It is seasoned throughout with Attic salt. - Molière

MADAME PERNELLE. For slanderers abound in calumnies . . . ORGON. Mother, you'd make me damn my soul. I tell you I saw with my own eyes his shamelessness. MADAME PERNELLE. Their tongues for spitting venom never lack, There's nothing here below they'll not attack. ORGON. Your speech has not a single grain of sense. I saw it, harkee, saw it, with these eyes I saw — d'ye know what saw means? — must I say it A hundred times, and din it in your ears?

...y, por dejarlo claro, el amigo del género humano, no lo es mío.

Ar. Fie! I tell you. Can you not conceive the disgust that such a word inspires, the moment it is heard; with what a strange image one is shocked, on what filthy prospects it leads the thought? Do not you shudder at it, and can you, sister, bring your heart to contemplate the consequences of this word? Hen. The consequences of this word, when I contemplate them, show me a husband, children, a household; and I see nothing there, to talk rationally, which shocks my imagination and makes me shudder.