He’s not like anything, Ahn. He’s the original. - Lois McMaster Bujold

Yet if the truth doesn’t serve us, what does that say about us, eh?

He stared at the two bundles more than filling his lap in a kind of cosmic amazement.
“We did it,” he muttered to Ekaterin, now perching on the chair arm. “Why didn’t anybody stop us? Why aren’t there more regulations about this sort of thing? What fool in their right mind would put me in charge of a baby? Two babies?”

If you desire a man to tell you comfortable lies about your prowess, and so fetter any hope of true excellence, I'm sure you may find one anywhere. Not all prisons are made of iron bars. Some are made of feather beds.