Animals are good to think with.

A good dog, sir, deserves a good bone.

Of all the creatures that breathe and creep on the surface of the earth, none is more to be pitied than man.

Man is the only animal for whom his own existence is a problem which he has to solve and from which he cannot escape.

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.

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

Animals have these advantages over man: they never hear the clock strike, they die without any idea of death, they have no theologians to instruct them, their last moments are not disturbed by unwelcome and unpleasant ceremonies, their funerals cost them nothing, and no one starts lawsuits over their wills.

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

Men, my dear, are very queer animals—a mixture of horse nervousness, ass stubbornness, and camel malice.

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

Cows are among the gentlest of breathing creatures; none show more passionate tenderness to their young when deprived of them—and, in short, I am not ashamed to profess a deep love for these quiet creatures.

How like to us is that filthy beast the ape.

Histories are more full of examples of the fidelity of dogs than of friends.