A dog starv'd at the master's gate Predicts the ruin of the State. A horse misus'd upon the road Calls to heaven for human blood. Each outcry of the hunted hare A fibre from the brain does tear, A skylark wounded on the wing, A cherubim does cease to sing.
Nothing predicts future behavior as much as past impunity.
A dog starved at his master's gate Predicts the ruin of the state.
History is full of delightful reversals, where the opposite of what one predicts comes true.
No one predicts the future. No one tries to.
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