Life is no way to treat an animal.

I hate the sight of monkeys; they remind me so of poor relations.

There are some who, if a cat accidentally comes into the room, though they neither see it nor are told of it, will presently be in a sweat and ready to die away.

Alas! We are ridiculous animals.

A good dog, sir, deserves a good bone.

In every man is a wild beast; most of them don’t know how to hold it back, and the majority give it full rein when they are not restrained by terror of law.

Animals are such agreeable friends—they ask no questions, they pass no criticisms.

How like to us is that filthy beast the ape.

I do not mean to call an elephant a vulgar animal, but if you think about him carefully, you will find that his nonvulgarity consists in such gentleness as is possible to elephantine nature—not in his insensitive hide, nor in his clumsy foot, but in the way he will lift his foot if a child lies in his way; and in his sensitive trunk, and still more sensitive mind, and capability of pique on points of honor.

Go to the ant, you lazybones; consider its ways, and be wise.

We call them dumb animals, and so they are, for they cannot tell us how they feel, but they do not suffer less because they have no words.