“I haven’t yet spoken to you about the benefits of publicity. Publicity is a haughty and seductive mistress, and you should woo her with little gifts, sugared almonds, lavender sachets, and other tiny things expressive more of the constancy of your affections than of the boldness of your ambitions. Soliciting her favors through heroic deeds and sacrifices is something best left to Don Quixote and other such lunatics. The true bigwig takes an entirely different approach. Rather than composing a Scientific Treatise on Sheep Breeding, he buys a lamb and regales his friends with it in the form of a dinner, news of which cannot fail to rouse the interest of your fellow citizens. One thing leads to another, and before you know it, your name is in the newspapers five, ten, or even twenty times. Committees and delegations for congratulating war heroes, distinguished citizens, or foreigners are particularly beneficial, as are church organizations and various clubs and societies, whether devoted to mythology, hunting, or ballet. Even certain minor incidents can be mentioned, provided they serve to show you in a good light. Let me explain. If you were to fall from a carriage suffering nothing more than a nasty shock, it would be useful to trumpet the fact to all and sundry. Not on account of the incident in itself, which is insignificant, but for the purpose of reminding public affections of a name that is dear to them. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do.”