The City is a machine miraculously organised for extracting gold from the seas, airs, clouds, from barren lands, holds of ships, mines, plantations, cottage hearth-stones, trees and rocks; and he, wretchedly waiting in the exterior halls, could not even get his finger on one tiny, tiny lever.

Everyone likes the obscene; that is real life.

A dominant race did not lie, because it had the whip.

A speculator is a man who, if he dies at the right time, has a rich widow.

A bank is a confidence trick. If you put up the right signs, the wizards of finance themselves will come in and ask you to take their money.

Charm is a cunning self-forgetfulness.

Money goes where money is, money yearns where money is.