He who meanly admires mean things is a Snob.
An immense percentage of snobs, I believe, is to be found in every rank of this mortal life.
To see a young couple loving each other is no wonder; but to see an old couple loving each other is the best sight of all.
No particular motive for living, except the custom and habit of it.
Life is the soul's nursery.
When one fib becomes due as it were, you must forge another to take up the old acceptance; and so the stock of your lies in circulation inevitably multiplies, and the danger of detection increases every day.