"What satisfaction can there be in having a man express his consideration for you, profess friendship, faith, zeal, esteem and affection, and praise you to the skies when he’ll hasten to do as much for the first worthless scoundrel he runs into? No man with any self-respect wants that sort of debased and worthless esteem. There’s precious little satisfaction in the most glorious of reputations if you find you have to share it with the whole universe. Esteem must be founded on some sort of preference. Bestow it on everybody and it ceases to have any meaning at all. Surrender to the foolish manners of the age, and by God, you’re no friend of mine. I despise the all-embracing, undiscriminating affection which makes no distinction of merit. I want to be singled out and, to put it bluntly, the friend of the whole human race is not a friend of mine at all."
- Moliere’s "The Misanthrope" (via monsta)