We think our fathers fools, so wise we grow. Our wiser sons, no doubt will think us so.
A perfect woman's but a softer man.
Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne.
O peace! how many wars were waged in thy name.
How do we know that we have a right to kill creatures that we are so little above, as dogs, for our curiosity or even for some use to us?
Is that a birthday? 'tis, alas! too clear; 'Tis but the funeral of the former year.