“There are some promotions in life, which, independent of the more substantial rewards they offer, acquire peculiar value and dignity from the coats and waistcoats connected with them. A field-marshal has his uniform; a bishop his silk apron; a counsellor his silk gown; a beadle his cocked hat. Strip the bishop of his apron, or the beadle of his hat and lace; what are they? Men. Mere men. Dignity, and even holiness too, sometimes, are more questions of coat and waistcoat than some people imagine.”

“Dignity, and even holiness too, sometimes, are more questions of coat and waistcoat than some people imagine.”

“That men saw his mask, but the bishop saw his face. That men saw his life, but the bishop saw his conscience.”

“The coat was a remnant from his stint at being people-size. I’d gotten his jacket, Ivy had gotten his silk robe, and we’d thrown out his two dozen toothbrushes.”

“They were looking after themselves, living with rigid economy; and there was no greater proof of their friendship than the way their harmony withstood their very grave differences in domestic behaviour. In Jack's opinion Stephen was little better than a slut: his papers, odd bits of dry, garlic'd bread, his razors and small-clothes lay on and about his private table in a miserable squalor; and from the appearance of the grizzled wig that was now acting as a tea-cosy for his milk-saucepan, it was clear that he had breakfasted on marmalade.Jack took off his coat, covered his waistcoat and breeches with an apron, and carried the dishes into the scullery. 'My plate and saucer will serve again,' said Stephen. 'I have blown upon them. I do wish, Jack,' he cried, 'that you would leave that milk-saucepan alone. It is perfectly clean. What more sanitary, what more wholesome, than scalded milk?”

“A mouse slid out from under his hat and scrambled down his sleeve, across his lap, and down to the floor.Nothing,' said Fenworth, 'should distract from a wizard's dignity.”