'Yes,' he said in a voice indescribable, 'you are right. I am afraid of him.  Therefore I swear by God that I will seek out this man whom I fear until I find him, and strike him on the mouth.  If heaven were his throne and the earth his footstool, I swear that I would pull him down.'

'How?' asked the staring Professor.  'Why?'

'Because I am afraid of him,' said Syme; 'and man should not leave in the universe anything of which he is afraid.'

DeWorms blinked at him with a sort of blind wonder.  He made an effort to speak, but Syme went on in a low voice, but with an undercurrent of inhuman exaltation: 'Who would condescend to strike down the mere things he does not fear?  Who would debase himself to be merely brave, like any common prize-fighter?  Who would stoop to be fearless - like a tree?  Fight the thing that you fear...'


...


'Young man,' said the Professor pleasantly, 'I am amused to observe that you think I am a coward.  As to that I will say only one word, and that shall be entirely in the manner of your own philosophical rhetoric.  You think that it is impossible to pull down the President.  I know that it is impossible, and I am going to try it,' and opening the tavern door, which let in a blast of bitter air, they went out together into the dark streets by the docks.



-G.K. Chesterton, The Man Who Was Thursday