Nikolai Gogol,
Dead Souls—A Poem
(1922)
“ And whatever dodge he tries to ennoble his nickname, even though he may get the scribbling gentry for a consideration to trace his pedigree from an ancient aristocratic family, it is all of no use: the very sound of the nickname, like the caw of a crow, betrays where the bird has come from. A word aptly uttered or written cannot be cut away by an axe. ”
