A lie can make it half way around the world before the truth has time to put its boots on.
It is our nature to conform; it is a force which not many can successfully resist. What is its seat? The inborn requirement of self-approval.
Intellectual ''work'' is misnamed; it is a pleasure, a dissipation, and is its own highest reward.
The finest clothing made is a person's own skin, but, of course, society demands something more than this.
You perceive I generalize with intrepidity from single instances. It is the tourist's custom.
I am a democrat only on principle, not by instinct, nobody is that. Doubtless some people say they are, but this world is grievously given to lying.