I envy you, I envy you." He stopped abruptly, and then on his lips formed one of his strange quizzical smiles, as he added: "It's from my brain I envy you, take notice, and not from my heart.

My reason dictates it.

The envy is an intellectual product.

I am like a sober man looking upon drunken men, and, greatly weary, wishing he, too, were drunk." "Or like a wise man looking upon fools and wishing he, too, were a fool," I laughed.
"Quite so," he said.

"You are a blessed, bankrupt pair of fools.