What of it, if some old hunks of a sea-captain orders me to get a broom and sweep down the decks ? What does that indignity amount to, weighed, I mean, in the scales of the New Testament? Do you think the archangel Gabriel thinks anything the less of me, because I promptly and respectfully obey that old hunks in that particular instance ? Who ain't a slave ? Tell me that. Weft, then, however the old sea-captains may order me about—however they may thump and punch me about, I have the satisfaction of knowing that it is all right: that everybody else is one way or other served in much the same way—either in a physical or metaphysical point of view, that is; and so the universal thump is passed round, and all hands should rub each other's shoulder-blades, and be content.
- From Moby Dick by Herman Melville
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