Coldness (n.) and refinement in the vengeful come not from spirit but from envy.
Coldness (n.) is trusted because people confuse the cold with those who catch fire slowly and keep it long.
Coldness (n.) at its extreme burns the fingers of every hand that touches it, and for that very reason some think the cold man glows.
Coldness (n.) of style is the cure for inflated modern words — and a danger, for biting coldness is as much a stimulant as great warmth.
Coldness (n.) and detachment are often a lack of feeling and moral strength in disguise; banality poses as tranquillity because it is tedious.
Coldness (n.) of thought feels too wintry only to someone with too little fire; some people are so compounded of fire they can barely find air cutting enough.
Coldness (n.) toward others, read as hard character, is often only weariness of spirit: then others are a burden or indifferent to us — as we are to ourselves.