'You want to know who I am?' said the old man drawing himself up, with a sudden hauteur which was not without dignity, despite his shrunken form and grotesque appearence.

Nothing but the untiring effort to sell words for thoughts; a mode of merchandise that is always trying to make fresh openings for itself, and by means of odd expressions, turns of phrase, and combinations of every sort, whether new or used in a new sense, to produce the appearence of intellect in order to make up for the very painfully felt lack of it.