“I never feel anything,” I whisper. “But every time I remember how little
you think of yourself, I feel angry. I feel like banishing anyone and everyone
who ever made you believe you deserve to be alone. Because that kind of pain,
it– it can ruin people, it can make them lose faith in everything, just like
Hamlet did, but you? You look at me more than anyone ever has, and no one
ever looks twice at me. I’m a skull in a graveyard. I’m empty.”