That everybody is supicious of what they improperly call our cinicism, our cruelty, our courteous arrogance, almost pleases us. Actually, to be honest, I will say that we enjoy it. But that which we enjoy the most is to see how everybody marvels before the scorn with which we repay their suspicion and animosity. For it isn't a scorn born from chance, nor from spite or vanity, nor pride: it is a heartfelt scorn, and a little resentful, cheerful, deeply reasoned, and ancient. And you only need to look at how a Tevinter walks to understand the stuff from which their scorn is made.
(Curzio Malaparte)











