Wealth, as such, impressed him deeply; his unromantic spirit respected this modern form of power—riches, no matter how acquired, were a sufficient attraction.

It didn’t matter that they were terrible at being parents; they were also very rich, which meant they could pay other people to love Alec.

If Americans were not always aware that they were rich men individually, they were at all events well instructed, by old-world visitors who came to observe them with a certain air of condescension, that collectively at least their material prosperity was a thing to be envied even by more advanced and more civilized peoples. Therefore any man called upon to pay a penny tax and finding his pocket bare might take a decent pride in the fact, which none need doubt since foreigners like Peter Kalm found it so, that "the English colonies in this part of the world have increased so much in ...their riches, that they almost vie with old England."

Rais'd of themselves, their genuine charms they boast, And those who paint them truest praise them most.

After he had gone over the mansion, his entertainer asked him what he thought of the splendours it contained; and he in reply did full justice to the riches of its owner and the skill of its decorators, but he added, "Lions would have fared better, had lions been the artists."

…I’m very rich because I’m loved by all my people, it’s a very beautiful thing. No money could surpass that. The love that my people feel for me is just so tremendous. It’s a lovely feeling.

The quality that made him great is that he loved greatly

He saw the beauties of his shape and face,
His female sweetness, and his manly grace

It was the eyes that did it. [timid giggle] I liked the way he painted eyes and he liked mine.

It was the eyes that did it. [timid giggle] I liked the way he painted eyes and he liked mine.

They cherish his mem'ry, and them as sell picturs of his birthplace, etc., make it prof'tible cherishin' it.

My friend was of opinion that when a man of rank appeared in that character [as an author], he deserved to have his merit handsomely allowed.

It excited him, too, that many men had already loved Daisy — it increased her value in his eyes. He felt their presence all about the house, pervading the air with the shades and echoes of still vibrant emotions.

She had liked him for himself, that was indisputable. And yet, much as she had liked him she had liked the bourgeois standard of valuation more.