Fear (n.) was first taught to fearless Siegfried by a sleeping woman — he cried “Mother! Mother!”
Fear (n.) makes us dependent — a weak thing needs support; hence priest and magician, and for the few who cannot go back to the Church, dependence on a human being.
Fear (n.) makes a patient more dangerous than rage or hatred — and whole nations too.
Fear (n.) is an admission of inferiority that shrinks back from chaos and longs for continuity and meaning — in a word, for civilization; it knows that all destruction comes from inadequacy.
Fear (n.) is the quintessence of the angel's everlasting gospel, with no more talk of God's love — and what is feared can only be something fearful.
Fear (n.) is love that cannot reach its object: an obstacle to the child's love for the parents converts it into fear — Papa wanted to drown me, didn't he?