Some people's money is merited and other people's is inherited.
Oh, what a tangled web do parents weave, when they think that their children are naive.
The burnt child, urged by rankling ire, Can hardly wait to get back at the fire.
But children, hark! Your mother would rather, When you arrived, have been your father.
Where there is a monster, there is a miracle.
Nobody agrees with anybody else anyhow, but adults conceal it and infants show it.