A man's vanity is more fragile that you might think. It's easy for us to mistake shyness for coldness, and silence for indifference.

Ice is for death and endings.

She had in truth no abstract propensity to malice: she did not dislike Lily because the latter was brilliant and predominant, but because she thought that Lily disliked her. It is less mortifying to believe one's self unpopular than insignificant, and vanity prefers to assume that indifference is a latent form of unfriendliness.

One of the most liberating notions is learning how many truly do not care about you, and moreover, how the few who do care about you, marvel at your indifference.

You overrate my capacity of love. I don't posess half the warmth of nature you believe me to have. An unprotected childhood in a cold world has beaten gentleness out of me.

So, what's up with you and Damian?" Helena asks.

"What do you mean?" I can feel the hear of a blush coloring on my cheeks. I can't ever seem to not show how I feel. It's becoming pretty annoying.