If you want realism, you have to make a few things up.
To a quite unwreckable Lie,
To a most impeccable Lie!
To a water-tight, fire-proof, angle-iron, sunk-hinge, time-lock, steel-faced Lie!
Not a private hansom Lie,
But a pair-and-brougham Lie,
Not a little-place-at-Tooting, but a country-house-with-shooting
And a ring-fence-deer-park Lie.
Men first lie and cheat for sport, then for trinkets, and finally for great ends, having formed the habit.
We are told that the enemy is privilege; in fact it is distinction.
We generally adopt a new opinion by persuading ourselves that we have always held it.
To imagine oneself facing an unpleasant truth — few sensations are as pleasant.
That we would have been above the absurd beliefs and barbaric practices of other times — this absurd belief abets our barbaric practices.
The heartfelt periodic resolutions to give up a vice are no small part of its enjoyment.
You never violate your principles: you only discover that they are not what you thought they were.
Liars love to be lied to: indeed they insist on it.
The facts lie chiefly in their arrangement.