Pity (n.) is a concern for the misery of others without friendship; malice a joy in it without enmity.
Pity (n.) for the victim turns into hatred for the one who caused his misfortune — the more compassion, the more detestation.
Pity (n.) has good-will in it, yet lies close to contempt; respect for another's rise can alternate within moments with envy of it.
Pity (n.) depends entirely on the imagination, and contrast never fails to work on it — the victim's security makes our sorrow for him sharper.
Pity (n.) is an uneasiness at another's misery that ought, by rights, to produce hatred — yet it is always mixed with love, because its whole bent is toward the sufferer's good.
Pity (n.) depends on the sight of the object, not on subtle reflections about fortune — the same infirmity that makes one faint at a naked sword, even in a friend's hand.