Forget all feuds, and shed one English tear O'er English dust. A broken heart lies here. - Thomas Babington Macaulay, 1st Baron Macaulay

That wonderful book <nowiki>[</nowiki>The Pilgrim's Progress<nowiki>]</nowiki>, while it obtains admiration from the most fastidious critics, is loved by those who are too simple to admire it.

But when the face of Sextus
Was seen among the foes,
A yell that rent the firmament
From all the town arose.
On the house-tops was no woman
But spat towards him and hissed,
No child but screamed out curses,
And shook its little fist.

There you [Sir Robert Peel] sit, doing penance for the disingenuousness of years.