Anton Chekhov

“ NATALYA STEPANOVNA. Papa, tell us truly, which is the better dog, our Squeezer or his Guess.
LOMOV. Stepan Stepanovitch, I implore you to tell me just one thing: is your Squeezer overshot or not? Yes or no?
CHUBUKOV. And suppose he is? What does it matter? He's the best dog in the district for all that, and so on.
LOMOV. But isn't my Guess better? Really, now?
CHUBUKOV. Don't excite yourself, my precious one. ... Allow me. ... Your Guess certainly has his good points. ... He's pure-bred, firm on his feet, has well-sprung ribs, and all that. ”

“ He's old and as ugly as a worn-out cab-horse.
LOMOV. He is old, but I wouldn't take five Squeezers for him. ... Why, how can you? ... Guess is a dog; as for Squeezer, well, it's too funny to argue. ... Anybody you like has a dog as good as Squeezer ... you may find them under every bush almost. Twenty-five roubles would be a handsome price to pay for him.
NATALYA STEPANOVNA. There's some demon of contradiction in you to-day, Ivan Vassilevitch. First you pretend that the Meadows are yours; now, that Guess is better than Squeezer. ”

“ NATALYA STEPANOVNA. [Teasing] My heart. ... What sort of a hunter are you? You ought to go and lie on the kitchen oven and catch blackbeetles, not go after foxes! My heart!
CHUBUKOV. Yes really, what sort of a hunter are you, anyway? You ought to sit at home with your palpitations, and not go tracking animals. You could go hunting, but you only go to argue with people and interfere with their dogs and so on. Let's change the subject in case I lose my temper. You're not a hunter at all, anyway!
LOMOV. And are you a hunter? You only go hunting to get in with the Count and to intrigue. ”