The Way We Live Now

by Anthony Trollope

All greatness bows down before gold. Dishonesty becomes acceptable so long as it contributes to success.

This was effected with an air of wonderful omniscience, and not unfrequently with an ignorance hardly surpassed by its arrogance. But the writing was clever. The facts, if not true, were well invented; the arguments, if not logical, were seductive.

The one most essential obstacle to the chance of success in all this was probably Lady Carbury’s conviction that her end was to be obtained not by producing good books, but by inducing certain people to say that her books were good.

The woman was false from head to foot, but there was much of good in her, false though she was.

He made a few words go a long way, and was well trained in the work of easing the burden of his own greatness for those who were for the moment inflicted with it. When the dance was over

There were no doubt gentlemen of different degrees, but the English gentleman of gentlemen was he who had land, and family title-deeds, and an old family place, and family portraits, and family embarrassments, and a family absence of any useful employment.

Men reconcile themselves to swindling. Though they themselves mean to be honest, dishonesty of itself is no longer odious to them. Then there comes the jealousy that others should be growing rich with the approval of all the world, — and the natural aptitude to do what all the world approves. It seems to me that the existence of a Melmotte is not compatible with a wholesome state of things in general.”

Throughout the world, the more wrong a man does, the more indignant is he at wrong done to him.

Love is like any other luxury. You have no right to it unless you can afford it. And those who will have it when they can’t afford it, will come to the ground like this Mr. Melmotte.