When once infidelity can persuade men that they shall die like beasts, they will soon be brought to live like beasts also.—South.
Ingratitude.—If there be a crime of deeper dye than all the guilty train of human vices, it is ingratitude.—H. Brooke.
Men may be ungrateful, but the human race is not so.—De Boufflers.
Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind
As man's ingratitude.
—Shakespeare.
He that forgets his friend is ungrateful to him; but he that forgets his Saviour is unmerciful to himself.—Bunyan.
You may rest upon this as an unfailing truth, that there neither is, nor never was, any person remarkably ungrateful, who was not also insufferably proud. In a word, ingratitude is too base to return a kindness, too proud to regard it, much like the tops of mountains, barren indeed, but yet lofty; they produce nothing; they feed nobody; they clothe nobody; yet are high and stately, and look down upon all the world.—South.
Ingratitude is always a kind of weakness. I have never seen that clever men have been ungrateful.—Goethe.
You love a nothing when you love an ingrate.—Plautus.
And shall I prove ungrateful? shocking thought! He that is ungrateful has no guilt but one; all other crimes may pass for virtues in him.—Young.
Nothing more detestable does the earth produce than an ungrateful man.—Ausonius.