I hate ingratitude more in a person; than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, or, any taint of vice whose strong corruption inhabits our frail blood.

All the stored vengeances of heaven fall On her ingrateful top!

This was the most unkindest cut of all; For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitor's arms, Quite vanquished him. Then burst his mighty heart; And in his mantle muffling up his face, Even at the base of Pompey's statue (Which all the while ran blood) great Caesar fell.

Ingratitude is monstrous; and for the multitude to be ingrateful were to make a monster of the multitude; of which we being members, should bring ourselves to be monstrous members.

What, wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee twice?

Ingratitude! thou marble-hearted fiend, More hideous when thou show'st thee in a child Than the sea-monster.