Fear (n.) comes from knowing the danger: if we thought ourselves invulnerable we should know none.
Fear (n.) of spiders is a luxury of clean houses: I never saw a peasant, man, woman or child, afraid of spiders.
Fear (n.) is cured by practice, not argument: the tiler on the roof does not know what it is to be dizzy.
Fear (n.) makes the frightened savage call other men giants: the first word for a man is false, yet it is a true sign of fear.
Fear (n.) of imagined evils is crueler than the real ones: told his disease was incurable but not mortal, Rousseau bore it more patiently than before.
Fear (n.) of falling in love can half accomplish it: he trembled lest he love the daughter, and that very fear had already half done the business.
Fear (n.) in a child is undone as Hector did it for Astyanax, frightened by the nodding plumes: put the helmet on the ground and caress the child.
Fear (n.) of a showdown is often the worst of it: the scene you dread may end in an embrace and tears, and no explanation at all.