Some would say that fear has an icy hand.. at least, that's what i've always read, but i don't think that's quite right. It's not so much of an icy hand as it is a cloak and dagger. Fear is a quiet, silent thing, unlike it's brother, Anger. Anger blunders into the room like a weightlifter full of whisky, crashing and destroying anything in it's path. Fear creeps, like an assassin, on the corners of our minds, until we're at our most vulnerable. People have died from fright, so i think it speaks to it's potency.
Always remember, though, that for all the fear in the world, we need it to keep us alive. and without fear.. without fear, we miss the one fundamental emotion in our lives, the one thing that has pushed humanity throughout it's darkest nights.
Without fear, there is no hope