A grudge makes a starveling diet. - L. Sprague de Camp

Obeying its natural instincts, it would have snapped up a tasty citizen or two. Then nought would have dissuaded your thick-skulled military from slaying the beast, as if one mountain dragon were not worth a score of human beings.
Thorolf raised his eyebrows. "How reckon you that?"
"The mountain dragon is an endangered species, whereas the world swarms with humanity. Man is in no danger of extermination, unless it destroy itself any devilish novel weapons like those Serican thunder tubes I hear of. It would serve the species right."
Thorolf gave a quiet laugh. "I never thought of it thus. Doubtless being human has warped my thinking.

If the gods made man, which I doubt, they should have made him so he sometimes enjoyed what he has instead of forever yearning for what he has not.

As you know, Monsieur Newbury, the civilization is but a thin crust over our savage interiors, no matter if our skins be white or black. We must try to keep this shell of egg intact.