"So what you're saying is he's angry at the world," said Lilac dreamily, hands clasped under her chin, elbows poised delicately on Tim Drake's expensive mahogany desk. Tim snorted mirthlessly. "He doesn't hate the world, just certain individuals." And Tim guessed that Jason didn't hate the world, not as long as he had that red helmet on and was fighting to make it a better place. "But to the world-- he's just bitter to it, I think." "Bitter to the world," repeated Lilac, gazing into the distance, lost inside her own head. "Can I use that for a book?" Tim groaned and turned back to his computer. "Go back to work."