Standoffish Quotes

I am reduced to a thing that wants Virginia. I composed a beautiful letter to you in the sleepless nightmare hours of the night, and it has all gone: I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. You, with all your un-dumb letters, would never write so elementary a phrase as that; perhaps you wouldn’t even feel it. And yet I believe you’ll be sensible of a little gap. But you’d clothe it in so exquisite a phrase that it would lose a little of its reality. Whereas with me it is quite stark: I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal. So this letter is just really a squeal of pain. It is incredible how essential to me you have become. I suppose you are accustomed to people saying these things. Damn you, spoilt creature; I shan’t make you love me any the more by giving myself away like this —But oh my dear, I can’t be clever and stand-offish with you: I love you too much for that. Too truly. You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don’t love. I have brought it to a fine art. But you have broken down my defences. And I don’t really resent it.

On the one hand, you have a wonderfully caring, magnetic personality that draw people in close. On the other hand, you come across as standoffish, even reclusive. While both personalities are, in fact, who you are, at any one moment which side you show to the world depends on who you are with and the circumstances you are in.

She's not my type,' Carter says. 'So what is your type?' 'Tall, skinny, black hair, blue eyes, freckly nose. Blue tinsel wig and snowflakes optional.' 'Skinny?' I squeal. 'Definitely. Pretending to be shy, sensible and stand-offish when really you're mad about me.' 'You sure about that?' 'No, but I'm hoping.

I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. Oh my dear, I can’t be clever and stand-offish with you: I love you too much for that. Too truly.You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don’t love. I have brought it to a fine art. But you have broken down my defences. And I don’t really resent it.

He’s standoffish, all moody and dark, but more importantly, he’s the friggin’ starting QB for the tide!” “Official statistics – six foot three, two-hundred and thirty-five pounds of solid muscle!” Cass added excitedly. “He’s a what? For who?

I’d always thought of the monsters as my own sort of standoffish pets. If, you know, you thought pets that could eat you were cool. Which I totally did.

I’d been accused of being standoffish and bitchy. The truth was, it wasn’t that I was mean or unfriendly. I just generally sucked at small talk with people I didn’t know, and most important, I had a severe case of resting bitch face.

In friendships or relationships, usually one person is the cat—guarded, a little standoffish—someone where you have to work for it. And then the other person is the golden retriever. Loves immediately and completely.

The most pleased of the lot was the other lion, who kept running about everywhere pretending to be very busy but really in order to say to everyone he met, “Did you hear what he said? Us lions. That means him and me. Us lions. That’s what I like about Aslan. No side, no standoffishness. Us lions. That meant him and me.” At least he went on saying this till Aslan had loaded him up with three dwarfs, one dryad, two rabbits, and a hedgehog. That steadied him a bit.

Terry gets annoyed when I describe his mother as cold. She isn't cold, he insists, just a little standoffish, and not so gabby as certain members of my family. While Terry's mom doesn't believe in asking intrusive questions, like "How are you?", she's still a warm and loving mom; just quiet and undemonstrative.

A week earlier, Dominic couldn’t have imagined Levi describing him as trustworthy under any circumstances. Now he felt the same way he did when his sister Angela’s cat—a standoffish bastard with a wicked set of claws—came to him for petting while regally ignoring everyone else in the room. Not that he would ever make that comparison to Levi’s face.

Not that folks disliked me or that I ever went around being mean, but folks never did get close to me and it was most likely my fault. There was always something standoffish about me. I liked folks, but I liked the wild animals, the lonely trails, and the mountains better.

Granddad said I needed to get some muscles because I was looking gay these days. No, he didn't really say that. Speaking of which, here's Parrish.' Someone cuffed the back of Adam's head. He blinked up. One way, then the other. His assailant had come up on Adam's deaf side. 'Oh,' Adam said. It was Tad Carruthers, whose worst fault was that Adam didn't like him and Tad couldn't tell. 'Oh,' mimicked Tad benevolently, as if Adam's standoffish-ness charmed him. Adam wanted desperately and masochistically for Tad to ask him where he had summered. Instead, Tad turned to where Ronan was still reclined with his eyes closed. He lifted a hand to cuff Ronan's head but lost his nerve an inch into the swing. Instead, he just drummed on Ronan's desk and moved on.

Their arrogance protected them against any liking for their fellow-man, against the slightest interest in the strangers sitting all about them, amidst whom M. de Stermaria adopted the manner one has in the buffet-car of a train, grim, hurried, stand-offish, brusque, fastidious and spiteful, surrounded by other passengers whom one has never seen before, whom one will never see again and towards whom the only conceivable way of behaving is to make sure that they keep away from one's cold chicken and stay out of one's chosen corner-seat.

On top of his grudge holding, he had a reputation for impatience. Like so many brilliant people, Calvin just couldn’t understand how no one else got it. He was also an introvert, which isn’t really a flaw but often manifests itself as standoffishness. Worst of all, he was a rower. As any non-rower can tell you, rowers are not fun. This is because rowers only ever want to talk about rowing. Get two or more rowers in a room and the conversation goes from normal topics like work or weather to long, pointless stories about boats, blisters, oars, grips, ergs, feathers, workouts, catches, releases, recoveries, splits, seats, strokes, slides, starts, settles, sprints, and whether the water was really “flat” or not. From there, it usually progresses to what went wrong on the last row, what might go wrong on the next row, and whose fault it was and/or will be. At some point the rowers will hold out their hands and compare calluses. If you’re really unlucky, this could be followed by several minutes of head-bowing reverence as one of them recounts the perfect row where it all felt easy.

Couldn’t get on the train, huh?’ Among other things, Soledad has a gift for changing the subject at exactly the right moment. She’s more tentative than her sister, but it’s hard to remain standoffish with Luca there, all eyelashes and coy dimples

There must be some middle ground between broken hearts and pure standoffishness.

To be a stoic in an age of self-pity is to be judged standoffish; worse, unfeeling.

He was also an introvert, which isn't really a flaw but often manifests itself as standoffishness.

When Justin began making his first solo album, Justified, he started being very standoffish with me. I think that was because he’d decided to use me as ammunition for his record, and so it made it awkward for him to be around me staring at him with all that affection and devotion. Ultimately, he ended our relationship by text message while I was on the set for the video for the “Overprotected

Like so many brilliant people, Calvin just couldn’t understand how no one else got it. He was also an introvert, which isn’t really a flaw but often manifests itself as standoffishness. Worst of all, he was a rower.

When he heard people with no knowledge of a cat's character saying that cats were not as loving as dogs, that they were cold and selfish, he always thought to himself how impossible it was to understand the charm and lovableness of a cat if one had not, like him, spent many years living alone with one. The reason was that all cats are to some extent shy creatures: they won't show affection or seek it from their owners in front of a third person but tend rather to be oddly standoffish. Lily too would ignore Shozo or run off when he called her, if his mother were present. But when the two of them were alone, she would climb up on his lap without being called and devote the most flattering attention to him.

She was herself unconscious of that faint hint of offishness which hung about her and repelled advances, an arrogance that stirred in people a peculiar irritation. They noticed her, admired her clothes, but that was all, for the self-sufficient uninterested manner adopted instinctively as a protective measure for her acute sensitiveness, in her child days, still clung to her.

In 2008, Lawrence Williams and John Bargh conducted a study where they had people meet strangers. One group held a cup of warm coffee, and the other group held iced coffee. Later, when asked to rate the stranger’s personality, the people who held the warm coffee said they found the stranger to be nice, generous, and caring. The other group said the same person was difficult, standoffish, hard to talk to. In another round of research subjects held either a heating pad or a cold pack and then were asked to look at various products and judge their overall quality. Once they had done this, the experimenters told them they could choose a gift to keep for participating or they could give the gift to someone else. Those who held the heating pad chose to give away their reward 54 percent of the time, but only 25 percent of the cold pack group shared. The groups had turned their physical sensations into words, and then used those words as metaphors to explain their perceptions or predict their own actions.

So many of the men who came to the West were southerners— men looking for work and a new life after the Civil War—that chivalrousness and strict codes of honor were soon thought of as western traits. There were very few women in Wyoming during territorial days, so when they did arrive (some as mail-order brides from places like Philadelphia) there was a standoffishness between the sexes and a formality that persists now. Ranchers still tip their hats and say, "Howdy, ma'am" instead of shaking hands with me. Even young cowboys are often evasive with women. It's not that they're Jekyll and Hyde creatures—gentle with animals and rough on women—but rather, that they don't know how to bring their tenderness into the house and lack the vocabulary to express the complexity of what they feel.

Our spirituality may be grounded in Scripture, yet is quieter, slower and more contemplative. In an upfront, talkative, active evangelical culture, we can be viewed as self-absorbed or standoffish, and we can feel like outsiders even when we have faithfully attended a church for years.

I know my defects. I don’t need you to take that stand-offish and unsympathetic tone. I get enough of that from the men who can’t bully me into loving them, or obeying them

He could be heard moving about in his room with a tormented and maddening insistence, as if on those nights he was receiving the ghost of the man he had been until then, and both of the them, the past man and the present one, were locked in a silent struggle in which the past one was defending his wrathful solitude, his invulnerable standoffish way, his intransigent manners; and the present one his terrible and unchangeable will to free himself from his own previous man.

Ghosts weren’t inherently mean, but many were standoffish. Many ghosts, after a certain length of time, became used to routine. They stayed in the same places in the same company, and generally had no reason or desire to leave. Beyond that, they were peaceful until disturbed. This was what people didn’t understand about ghosts. Most of them didn’t harbor any ill will towards the living or have some unexplainable animosity toward inanimate objects – they were just stubborn and didn’t like change.

Taken together with the evidence that creative individuals tend to be introverted, the CPI results paint an intriguing picture of their typical stance toward other individuals. Creative individuals might be regarded as asocial: they are neither drawn to interactions with others nor strongly antagonistic to them. Rather, their passions are concentrated on the domains in which they pursue their creative projects. This might well give rise to the impression that they are standoffish and rather arrogant.

But oh my dear, I can't be clever and stand-offish with you: I love you too much for that. Too truly. You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don't love. I have brought it to a fine art. But you have broken down my defenses. And I don't really resent it.

But only a short time passed before I began to realize that something extraordinary was happening to him at night. He could be heard moving about in his room with a tormented and maddening insistence, as if on those nights he was receiving the ghost of the man he had been until then, and both of them, the past man and the present one, were locked in a silent struggle in which the past one was defending his wrathful solitude, his invulnerable standoffish way, his intransigent manners; and the present one his terrible and unchangeable will to free himself from his own previous man.

Calvin was a brilliant man, but if he had one flaw, it was his ability to hold a grudge. On top of his grudge holding, he had a reputation for impatience. Like so many brilliant people, Calvin just couldn’t understand how no one else got it. He was also an introvert, which isn’t really a flaw but often manifests itself as standoffishness. Worst of all, he was a rower. As any non-rower can tell you, rowers are not fun. This is because rowers only ever want to talk about rowing. Get two or more rowers in a room and the conversation goes from normal topics like work or weather to long, pointless stories about boats, blisters, oars, grips, ergs, feathers, workouts, catches, releases, recoveries, splits, seats, strokes, slides, starts, settles, sprints, and whether the water was really “flat” or not. From there, it usually progresses to what went wrong on the last row, what might go wrong on the next row, and whose fault it was and/or will be. At some point the rowers will hold out their hands and compare calluses. If you’re really unlucky, this could be followed by several minutes of head-bowing reverence as one of them recounts the perfect row where it all felt easy.

Nipple?” I ask, far too enthralled, but she shakes her head. I sit up straight and measure roughly eight inches between my palms. She nods. “No!” I look over to the reserved, standoffish Drew, my eyes automatically dropping to his crotch. “You won’t see it through his jeans, Ava.” Kate chuckles, and I’m off again, too. Uncontrollable, belly clenching, might-pee-my-knickers laughter. Through my tears, I see Kate stick her tongue in her cheek. “I nearly cracked a tooth.” “Please!” I’m falling all over my chair. I’m helpless. “Something funny?” I battle to pull myself together and wipe my eyes, looking up at my Lord of the Sex Manor, who’s staring down at his giggling wife with a bemused look plastered all over his face. “No, nothing.

Like so many brilliant people, Calvin just couldn’t understand how no one else got it. He was also an introvert, which isn’t really a flaw but often manifests itself as standoffishness. Worst of all, he was a rower. As any non-rower can tell you, rowers are not fun. This is because rowers only ever want to talk about rowing. Get two or more rowers in a room and the conversation goes from normal topics like work or weather to long, pointless stories about boats, blisters, oars, grips, ergs, feathers, workouts, catches, releases, recoveries, splits, seats, strokes, slides, starts, settles, sprints, and whether the water was really “flat” or not. From there, it usually progresses to what went wrong on the last row, what might go wrong on the next row, and whose fault it was and/or will be. At some point the rowers will hold out their hands and compare calluses. If you’re really unlucky, this could be followed by several minutes of head-bowing reverence as one of them recounts the perfect row where it all felt easy.

It’s annoying not being able to see you,” I said in place of a good morning.  I flipped to my stomach and propped myself up with my elbows to get a better look at him. “If you don’t talk, and I can’t see your face, how am I ever supposed to figure out what you’re thinking?” I reached out to move some hair out of the way, but he stopped me in a blurred move, catching my wrist gently in his hand.  He didn’t let me any closer.  First, he ditched me on dinner night then he wouldn’t let me touch him?  The thought stopped me.  I really hadn’t touched him before either, at least not as a man.  Maybe he was like me, a little standoffish.  I could understand that. “Seriously, Clay, what kind of bribe is it going to take for you to get rid of some of that hair?” He flashed his elongated canines at me again in explanation. “Can’t we at least trim it back some?”  Okay maybe a lot, but I knew to start with baby steps. He tugged my hand to his chest, laying it flat.  So much for my theory about not wanting to be touched.  I patiently allowed it because with him, everything was guessing or pantomime.  His chest warmed my palm. Using his free hand, he tapped my mouth.  I frowned, perplexed. “What, you want me to be mute like you?”  Was he hinting I talked too much? He shook his head and reached out again.  This time, he cupped my jaw and lightly ran his thumb over my bottom lip.  The gentle touch caused the pull in my stomach to intensify.  Though I couldn’t see his eyes, I read his intent. “Whoa!”  I scrambled out of the bed as if it had caught fire. He stayed where I left him and turned his head to study me as I stood trembling beside the bed.  I nervously rubbed a sweaty palm, the one that had moments before rested on his chest, against my leg.  His whiskers twitched down.  I couldn’t recall him frowning at me before. I almost asked where that idea suddenly came from, but guessed it was long overdue.  According to the Elders, when an unMated male finds his female, he begins a courtship of sorts.  The end goal is to Claim his Mate. But Clay hadn’t courted me.  He just lived here in his fur.  And sometimes cooked for me.  And sometimes helped me with chores...and when he wasn’t around, I felt disappointed and missed him.  My fearful expression slackened to one of stunned amazement.  He had been courting me these last few months.  Clever dog. Not

I had to drive through a very poor and largely Hispanic section of Miami to get to the apartment complex where Casey Martin had died. There were a lot of beautiful women on the sidewalks and at the outdoor cafés, a lot of tough guys and a lot of guys who weren’t tough but trying to look like they were. The streets were alive with what criminally passed for music nowadays, and there were smells of cooking in the air that suggested savory tastes. Small, hole-in-the-wall shops marked one end, and some more upscale stores the other. The dividing line between the two was discernible not just by the stores, but the women. The women and even younger girls at the lower income end seemed softer, friendlier, quicker with a genuine smile. The ones walking into the trendy places were just as pretty, more expensively dressed, but more apt to express scorn than produce a spontaneous smile. The upscale women appeared to be from a different planet. For them, everything was sexist, everything a slight. They were eternal victims, even though the entire world was in their favor. The women at the poor end fell in love, watched out for their men, while the more affluent were stand-offish and demanding, making certain any man “lucky” enough to be with them lived in the right zip code, had the right amount of bling to give them, and above all, had been properly neutered. The balls of their boyfriends and husbands — sometimes they had both — were always in their handbag, somewhere between the trendy lip liner and eye shadow. A kiss from one of the poor girls was a sweet gift, filled with passion and tenderness, even if it could only last a night. A kiss from an uptown girl meant you’d checked off all her right boxes, and she needed to fulfill her duty. Girls without money were from Venus, girls with money were from Mars.

She was bossy, sometimes rude and standoffish, but her heart was made of gold. She was a lender and not a borrower and she had no problem closing her eyes and praying for you if need be. With

No one seemed to understand that she hadn’t chosen to be standoffish. That was simply a byproduct of what she’d been through.

That's what I like about Aslan. No side, no standoff-ishness. Us Lions. That meant him and me.

She cursed the part of herself that assumed everyone was sinister in some way-especially when she forgot that she, too, didn't always make a good first impression. Everyone who met her probably thought she was standoffish, maybe stuck-up, because while her mind assessed people at a million miles a minute, she wasn't quick to be friendly, open, warm.

She was standoffish in the way that lonely people often are.

Cordelia joined Emily with the Hancocks. Kenneth would expect her to stand guard, but she also wanted to be polite. If she hung back, it might look stand-offish. Worse, she might appear superior. If there was one thing the war had taught her, it was that people she had previously regarded as her social inferiors were every bit as good as she was

as a young black woman, all she had to do was be slightly standoffish and white people assumed she was angry and aggressive.

Auren looks as shocked as everyone else, because other than with Osrik, Rissa is pretty standoffish. Not the hugging type. But she’s certainly hugging now.

King liked to pretend that chivalry was still a thing. I liked to pretend that by being surly and standoffish, I would magically attract all the things I wanted in life. We’d see which one of us got what we wanted first.

So to the generally well-intentioned men in my life, please consider this: no matter what I accomplish or how self assured I am feeling, the aforementioned dickhead bouncers of the world will still believe they have a right to demand my time and attention, even when I want to be alone. They will still insist I be polite and cheerful, even while they make me uncomfortable and afraid. They will still comment about my body and allude to sexual violence, and then berate me for being “stuck up” if I don’t receive it with a sense of humour. They will still choose to reinforce their dominance with a reminder that they could hurt me if they wanted to, and that I should somehow be grateful if they don’t. This has made me defensive. It has put me more on my guard than I would like to be. Decent male humans, this is not your fault, but it also does not have nothing to do with you. If a woman is frosty or standoffish or doesn’t laugh at your joke, consider the notion that maybe she is not an uptight, humourless bitch, but rather has had experiences that are outside your realm of understanding, and have adversely colored her perception of the world. Consider that while you’re just joking around, a woman might actually be doing some quick mental math to see if she’s going to have to hide in a fucking bathroom stall and call someone to come help her, like I did three days ago.

I don’t know what his issue was; we had just had sex last night. Lately he’s been wanting it more and more, but I been a little standoffish because I didn’t want to get pregnant again.

Isaac dared not move and she did not stir either, both staring up at the canopy above. If he reached over, if he –no, no. It was better to keep a small shield between them, to preserve the little progress they had made in their standoffish, untested relationship, two strangers forced together under impossible circumstances. The last thing he needed was to push her away, to frighten her, to be the brute she’d taken him for. It had been three weeks since they’d been in this very same position and so much had changed and yet so little. A ridiculous, naïve hope drifted into his head before he found sleep: perhaps one day, a long time from now, they would be friends. He would settle for that, if he could have nothing more. Even though he wanted everything.

Both power and warmth are necessary conditions for charisma. Someone who is powerful but not warm can be impressive, but isn’t necessarily perceived as charismatic and can come across as arrogant, cold, or standoffish. Someone who possesses warmth without power can be likable, but isn’t necessarily perceived as charismatic and can come across as overeager, subservient, or desperate to please.

The trick was to look approachable, but disengaged. Attentive, but standoffish. That way nobody could accuse you of not serving their needs, but would hopefully think twice before actually asking for anything.

Gabby has friends now from waitressing, but Miriam does not share those friends because, at least as Miriam tells it, Miriam does not like people. (In more honest moments, she knows she admits to herself that she’s really afraid of connecting with people—new people in particular. Because people are fragile. Relationships are doomed. People up and fucking die on you, or they betray you, or they just stop caring. In less-honest moments, Miriam tells herself it’s because she’s a rebel, Dottie. A loner. And that’s cool, isn’t it? Aren’t all the cool kids aloof and standoffish and smart-assed?)

You're the kind of person who acts cold and standoffish, but really you're kind-hearted and caring,' I told her as I pointed at her choppy, uneven ends. 'You didn't give yourself that messy haircut. You let your little sister cut your hair and you tried to hide it with that hair clip.

When Justin began making his first solo album, Justified, he started being very standoffish with me. I think that was because he’d decided to use me as ammunition for his record, and so it made it awkward for him to be around me staring at him with all that affection and devotion.

Some undiagnosed Autistic people (particularly women) identify as “highly sensitive persons.”[73] Highly sensitive persons are generally described as intuitive, emotionally astute, and easily overwhelmed. Even the creator of the term, Elaine N. Aron, has revealed that some of the highly sensitive family members she has described in writing later found out they were Autistic.[74] The stigma that comes with Autism (and its very male, standoffish associations) may be part of why so many women on the spectrum find labels such as anxious and highly sensitive to be far more resonant.

Laurent had restored both his shirt and a flickering version of his usual standoffishness. But he had not laced himself back into his clothes, had not reappeared in his high-necked jacket and shiny boots as he might have done. He was here, hesitating, on the edge of uncertainty. Damen drew on Laurent's hand.

The IAT is more than just an abstract measure of attitudes. It’s also a powerful predictor of how we act in certain kinds of spontaneous situations. If you have a strongly pro-white pattern of associations, for example, there is evidence that that will affect the way you behave in the presence of a black person. It’s not going to affect what you’ll choose to say or feel or do. In all likelihood, you won’t be aware that you’re behaving any differently than you would around a white person. But chances are you’ll lean forward a little less, turn away slightly from him or her, close your body a bit, be a bit less expressive, maintain less eye contact, stand a little farther away, smile a lot less, hesitate and stumble over your words a bit more, laugh at jokes a bit less. Does that matter? Of course it does. Suppose the conversation is a job interview. And suppose the applicant is a black man. He’s going to pick up on that uncertainty and distance, and that may well make him a little less certain of himself, a little less confident, and a little less friendly. And what will you think then? You may well get a gut feeling that the applicant doesn’t really have what it takes, or maybe that he is a bit standoffish, or maybe that he doesn’t really want the job.

Am I always as friendly as I can be, like my golden retriever? Some people who might seem cold or standoffish or rude are really just scared. It’s up to me to reach out and try harder instead of writing them off or walking away.

Danielle sat on a desk and propped her feet on a chair. The 3rd graders immediately sat on the floor around her. The older kids followed, but more slowly. Why, I wondered, were the 4th and 5th graders so standoffish and afraid, but not the 3rd graders? Becca and Charlotte were not noted for their bravery.

He hadn't set foot in the Tower since his apprenticeship days, but Antain felt it was high time to visit the Sisters, who had been, for him, a sort of short-term family----albeit odd, standoffish, and, admittedly, murderous. Still. Family is family...

There was no elevator, so I lugged my cases up four flights of stairs, where I was met by Viggo – my first bona fide Danish person! He wasn’t a whole lot taller than me, which was reassuring, and he had blond hair and a stubbly beard, like a lesser Bee Gee brother. He also seemed a bit standoffish, but that might have been in comparison to all the polite fakery we normally do in England, all the gushing and frozen grins, the bobbing and blushing, and ‘Oh gosh, really?’ and the rest. Viggo made statements impassively, and moved on to the next one without asking how my journey was, or mentioning the weather, or noting that I was still panting heavily (what, me out of shape?). I was surprised to learn I was staying in the large canary-coloured room

There is a type of woman I'd like to tell you about. This is a woman who a lot see as abrasive, standoffish, rbf, sarcasm is a first language. Also one, that if you're paying attention, is the one who is following up, checking in on people. Ya know, the kind of thing most people don't think to do. If you ask her out and you didn't do your homework, you're going to get an automatic no. If you didn't approach her in a way that had nothing to do with you wanting to date, because she has been hurt, trauma in her past. She's absolutely not broken. She doesn't want somebody to sweep her off her feet. She doesn't need to be rescued. She needs somebody who will sweep under her feet with her. Knowing you're willing to sweep that same floor. And then she'll be excited to do it for you if she knows you're willing to do it for her. She wants to let the kindness out and the walls down. It's not because she isn't able to, but She took control. She's not going to give it away to anybody else. But, she's willing to have somebody beside her--equally and independent. Living life. This is the kind of woman you build a future with. No matter what it takes, it's worth it.

Physical appearance is more straightforward—what you wear sends a pretty clear, established message about how you feel. For example, wearing old sweatpants and ratty T-shirts and having disheveled hair every day tells the world you’ve given up, while overdressing for every occasion and never missing your weekly haircut lets people know you are trying too hard. Your demeanor also says a lot about your mood, but the message often gets twisted. If you’re meeting someone for the first time and you’re feeling insecure about how you’ll be received, like many people, you may tend to be aloof and a bit standoffish or get overzealous.

Better described as introverted than standoffish, Daisuké wasn’t the type to go out of his way to socialize, but if someone struck up a conversation with him, he would engage them with surprising cheerfulness.

One aspect of Samantha's personality that drove me nuts was her tendency to reveal herself via literary allusions. She called it a quirk, but it was more of a compulsion. Her mother was Lady Macbeth; her father, Big Daddy. An uncle she liked was Mr. Micawber, a favorite governess, Jane Eyre; a doting professor, Mr. Chips. This curious habit of hers quickly made the voyage from eccentric to bizarre when she began to invoke the names of literary characters to describe moments in our relationship. When she thought I was treating her rudely, she called me Wolf Larsen; if I was standoffish, I was Mr. Darcy; when I dressed too shabbily, I was Tom Joad. Once, in bed, she yelled out the name Victor as she approached orgasm. I assumed she was referring to Victor Hugo because she'd been reading 'Les Miserables.'. It didn't really bother me that much though it was a little odd being with a woman who thought she was having sex with a dead French author.

Although the association between women and cats who are standoffish and wrapped up in themselves is a longstanding one, there are, as we saw in Chapter 3, plenty of women who feel a need to love and not simply to be loved. (Does Freud restrict women to loving either themselves or children as extensions of themselves, but not men?) In any case, Freud introduces here a curious facet of love, which would seem to apply not only to men, which is that we human beings are attracted to people (women and children, for example) and animals (cats, for example) that show little or no interest in us. Are we then interested in anything that seems narcissistically wrapped up in itself (its interest in itself pointing the way for our own interest or desire?) or are we interested in these things precisely because they seem inaccessible? Do we pursue them because they shun us and wound our own narcissism? Do we pursue them because they seem the most valuable – valuable precisely because they are so difficult to win – because we suspect that we will never win them? Or do we pursue them because we identify with something about them or want to be like them?