Fear (n.) only had a point while one still had hope.
Fear (n.) is how one grows up into a decent, god-fearing man.
Fear (n.) converts where argument does not: "I did not argue, I made him fear Hell."
Fear (n.) on your face is an imposition on others: you've no right to inflict the sight of it on me.
Fear (n.) is what a god wants instead of love: "They fear you." — "Excellent! I've no use for love."
Fear (n.) is free: I have put all my freedom into my fear and chosen myself as fearful in this circumstance.
Fear (n.) shared still divides: two frightened men look at each other and almost speak, but the looks turn to defiance, for on a day like this you don't speak to just anyone.
Fear (n.) in the night, alone, comes from imaginary objects that are by nature suspect — never frankly themselves, at once themselves and other — whereas a clear perception, even of a tiger, is reassuring in its way.
Fear (n.) does not shorten the ten yards to the face at the window; it annihilates them — the window ceases to be a thing to be broken and becomes the frame of the frightful visage.
Fear (n.) is self-protection from the future, the shock of the new, a refusal of the self-knowledge that tells you your future selves are unknowable... they cannot be predicted, they can only be performed. For sartre, knowing oneself is a form of bad faith.