It was prettily devised of Aesop, The fly sat on the axle tree of the chariot wheel and said, what dust do I raise!
Nature is often hidden, sometimes overcome, seldom extinguished.
Hurl your calumnies boldly; something is sure to stick.
They that reverence to much old times are but a scorn to the new.
Truth is so hard to tell, it sometimes needs fiction to make it plausible.
A bad man is worse when he pretends to be a saint.