A lover must have his delusions, justas a man must have a skinA madman gets madder when you talkreason to himA night that had shivered reposeA dash of conventionalism makes thewhole civilized world kinA string of pearls: a woman who goesbeyond that's in dangerA wound of the same kind that we areinflictingA tear would have overcome him—She hadnot weptA tragic comedian: that is, a grandpretender, a self-deceiverA fleet of South-westerly rain-cloudshad been met in mid-skyA bone in a boy's mind for him to gnawand worryA kind of anchorage in case ofindiscretionA cloud of millinery shoots me off amile from a womanA woman's at the core of every plot manplottethA witty woman is a treasure; a wittyBeauty is a powerA high wind will make a dead leaf flylike a birdA kindly sense of superiorityA young philosopher's an old fool!A bird that won't roast or boil or stewA woman, and would therefore listen tononsenseA male devotee is within an inch of amiracleA great oration may be a sedativeA very doubtful benefitA generous enemy is a friend on thewrong sideA woman is hurt if you do not confideto her your plansA woman who has mastered sauces sits onthe apex of civilizationA style of affable omnipotence aboutthe wise youthA maker of Proverbs—what is he but anarrow mind witA fortress face; strong and massive,and honourable in ruinA dumb tongue can be a heavy liarA common age once, when he married her;now she had grown oldA share of pity for the objects shedespisedA woman rises to her husband. But aman is what he isA stew's a stew, and not a boiling toshredsA marriage without love is dishonourA plunge into the deep is of littlemomentA sixpence kindly meant is worth anycrown-piece that's grudgedA man to be trusted with the keys ofanythingA free-thinker startles him as a kindof demonA female free-thinker is one of Satan'sconcubinesA wise man will not squander hislaughter if he can help itA man who rejected medicine inextremityA lady's company-smileA country of compromise goes to piecesat the first cannon-shotA youth who is engaged in theoccupation of eating his heartA whisper of cajolery in season isoften the secretA superior position was offered her byher being silentA contented Irishman scarcely seems mycountrymanAbject sense of the lack of acircumferenceAbove all things I detest the writingfor moneyAbove Nature, I tell him, or, we shallbe very much belowAbsolute freedom could be the worst ofperilsAccidents are the specific for avertingthe maladies of ageAccounting his tight blue tail coat andbrass buttons a victoryAccounting for it, is not the same asexcusingAccustomed to be paid for by hiscountryActing is not of the high class whichconceals the artActive despair is a passion that mustbe supersededAdd on a tired pipe after dark, and asound sleep to followAdept in the lie impliedAdmirable scruples of an inveterateborrowerAdmiration of an enemy or oppressordoing great deedsAdmires a girl when there's no marriedwoman or widow in sightAdversary at once offensive andhelpless provokes brutalityAdvised not to push at a shut gateAffected misapprehensionsAffectedly gentle and unusuallyroundabout openingAfter forty, men have married theirhabitsAfter five years of marriage, andtwelve of friendshipAfter a big blow, a very little onescarcely countsAgostino was enjoying the smoke ofpaper cigarettesAh! how sweet to waltz through lifewith the right partnerAh! we're in the enemy's country nowAh! we fall into their fictionsAimlessness of a woman's curiosityAlike believe that Providence is forthemAll of us an ermined owl within us tosit in judgementAll concessions to the people have beenwon from fearAll passed too swift for happinessAll women are the same—Know one, knowallAll that Matey and Browny wereforbidden to write they lookedAll are friends who sit at tableAll flattery is at somebody's expenseAllowed silly sensitiveness to preventthe repairAlthough it blew hard when Caesarcrossed the RubiconAlways the shout for more produced it("News")Am I ill? I must be hungry!Am I thy master, or thou mine?Americans forgivingly remember, withoutmentioningAmiable mirror as being wilfullyruffled to confuseAmong boys there are laws of honour andchivalrous codesAmused after their tiresome work ofslaughterAn edge to his smile that cuts muchlike a sneerAn obedient creature enough where hemust beAn angry woman will think the worstAn incomprehensible world indeed at thebottom and at the topAn instinct labouring to supply thedeficiencies of stupidityAn old spoiler of women is worse thanone spoiled by them!And now came war, the purifier and thepestilenceAnd so Farewell my young Ambition! andwith it farewell all trueAnd he passed along the road, adds thePhilosopherAnd, ladies, if you will consent to belikened to a fruitAnd her voice, against herself, was forEnglandAnd one gets the worst of it (in anybargain)And it's one family where the dog ispulled by the collarAnd not any of your grand ladies canmatch my wife at homeAnd to these instructions he gave anaim: "First be virtuous"And not be beaten by an acknowledgeddefeatAnd never did a stroke of work in mylifeAnd life said, Do it, and death said,To what end?Anecdotist to slaughter families forthe amusementAnguish to think of having bent theknee for nothingAnticipate opposition by initiatingmeasuresAny man is in love with any womanAny excess pushes to crazinessAppealed to reason in them; he wouldnot hear of convictionsAppetite to flourish at the cost of theweakerArch-devourer TimeAre we practical?' penetrates the bosomof an English audienceAristocratic assumption of licenceArm'd with Fear the Foe finds passageto the vital partArrest the enemy by vociferations ofpersistent prayerArt of despising what he covetedArt of speaking on politics terselyAs when nations are secretly preparingfor warAs to wit, the sneer is the cloak ofclumsinessAs secretive as they are sensitiveAs the Lord decided, so it would end!"Oh, delicious creed!"As well ask (women) how a battle-fieldconcerns them!As faith comes—no saying how; oneswears by themAs if she had never heard himpreviously enunciate the formulaAs little trouble as the heath when thewoods are sweptAs if the age were the injury!As for titles, the way to defend themis to be worthy of themAs fair play as a woman's lord couldgive herAs for comparisons, they are flowersthrown into the fireAs in all great oratory! The key of itis the pathosAs becomes them, they do not look aheadAshamed of letting his ears be filledwith secret talkAsk not why, where reason never wasAsk pardon of you, without excusingmyselfAssist in our small sphere; not comemouthing to the footlightsAt the age of forty, men that love loverootedlyAt war with ourselves, means the besthappiness we can haveAttacked my conscience on the cowardlysideAutomatic creature is subject to thelaws of its constructionAvoid the position that enforcespublishingBack from the altar to discover thatshe has chained herselfBad laws are best brokenBad luck's not repeated every day Keepheart for the goodBade his audience to beware of princesBandied the weariful shuttlecock ofgallantryBarriers are for those who cannot flyBe philosophical, but accept yourpersonal duesBe politic and give her elbow-room forher natural anglesBe what you seem, my little oneBe on your guard the next two minuteshe gets you aloneBe good and dull, and please everybodyBe the woman and have the last word!Bear in mind that we aresentimentalists—The eye is our servantBeauchamp's careerBeautiful servicelessnessBeautiful women in her position provokean intemperatenessBeautiful women may believe themselvesbelovedBeauty is rare; luckily is it rareBecause you loved something better thanmeBecause he stood so high with her nowhe feared the fallBecause men can't abide praise ofanother manBecoming air of appropriation that madeit family historyBed was a rock of refuge and fortifieddefenceBegan the game of PullBeginning to have a movement to kissthe whipBehold the hero embarked in theredemption of an erring beautyBeing heard at night, in the nineteenthcenturyBeing in heart and mind the brother tothe sister with womenBelief in the narrative by promotingnausea in the audienceBelieved in her love, and judged it bythe strength of his ownBent double to gather things we havetossed awayBetter for men of extremely oppositeopinions not to meetBetween love grown old and indifferenceageing to loveBeware the silent one of an assembly!Beyond a plot of flowers, a gold-greenmeadow dipped to a ridgeBitten hard at experience, and know thevalue of a toothBorrower to be dancing on Fortune'stight-rope above the old abyssBotched mendings will only make themworseBound to assure everybody at table hewas perfectly happyBounds of his intelligence closed theirfour wallsBoys, of course—but men, too!Boys are unjustBoys who can appreciate brave deeds arecapable of doing themBraggadocioing in deeds is only nextbad to mouthing itBrains will beat Grim Death if we haveenough of themBrief negatives are not re-assuring toa lover's uneasy mindBritish hunger for news; second only tothat for beefBrittle is foredoomedBrotherhood among the select who wearmasks instead of facesBut I leave it to youBut a woman must now and theningratiate herselfBut great, powerful London—the newuniverse to her spiritBut to strangle craving is indeed to gothrough a deathBut the flower is a thing of theseason; the flower drops offBut you must be beautiful to pleasesome menBut they were a hopeless couple, theywere so friendlyBut the key to young men is theambition, or, in the place of it.....But love for a parent is not merelydutyBut a great success is full oftemptationsBut what is it we do (exceptingcricket, of course)But is there such a thing as happinessBut had sunk to climb on a firmerfootingBy our manner of loving we are knownBy forbearance, put it in the wrongBy resisting, I made him a tyrantBy nature incapable of asking pardonCajoled like a twenty-year-old yahoo atcollegeCall of the great world's appetite formore (Invented news)Calm fanaticism of the passion of loveCan you not be told you are perfectwithout seeking to improveCan believe a woman to be any age whenher cheeks are tintedCan a man go farther than his nature?Cannot be any goodness unless it is apracticed goodnessCanvassing means intimidation orcorruptionCapacity for thinking should precedethe act of writingCapricious potentate whom they worshipCareful not to smell of his officeCarry explosives and must particularlyguard against sparksCarry a scene through in virtue's nameand vice's maskCauses him to be popularly weighedCentres of polished barbarism known asaristocratic societiesChallenged him to lead up to herdesired stormy sceneCharges of cynicism are common againstall satiristsCharitable mercifulness; better thansentimental ointmentCharity that supplied the place ofjustice was not thankedChaste are wattled in formalism andthroned in sournessCheerful martyrChildish faith in the beneficence ofthe unseen Powers who feed usChose to conceive that he thoughtabstractedlyCircumstances may combine to make awhisper as deadly as a blowCivil tongue and rosy smiles sweeteneven sour wineClaim for equality puts an end to thepriceless privilegesClotilde fenced, which is half aconfessionCock-sure has crowed low by sunsetCold curiosityCold charity to allCome prepared to be not very wellsatisfied with anythingComfortable have to pay in occasionalpanics for the serenityCommand of countenance the CountesspossessedCommencement of a speech proves thatyou have made the plungeCommon voice of praise in the mouths ofhis creditorsCommon sense is the secret of everysuccessful civil agitationCompared the governing of the Irish tothe management of a horseComparisons will thrust themselves onminds disorderedCompassionate sentiments veered roundto irate amazementComplacent languor of the wise youthCompliment of being outwitted by theirown offspringCompromise is virtual deathConduct is never a straight index wherethe heart's involvedConfess no more than is necessary, butdo everything you canConfident serenity inspired by evilprognosticationsConsciousness of some guilt when vowingitself innocentConsent to take life as it isConsent of circumstancesConservative, whose astounded stateparalyzes his wrathConsign discussion to silence with thecynical closureConstitutionally discontentedConsult the family means—waste yourtimeContempt of military weapons andridicule of the art of warContemptuous exclusiveness could not gofartherContinued trust in the man—is thealternative of despairConvict it by instinct without theceremony of a juryConvictions we store—wherewith toshape our destiniesConvictions are generally firstimpressionsConvincing themselves that theyimpersonate sagacityCordiality of an extreme relief inleavingCould we—we might be friendsCould peruse platitudes upon that themewith enthusiasmCould not understand enthusiasm for theschoolmaster's careerCould the best of men be simply—awoman's friend?Could have designed this gabbler forthe mateCould affect me then, without beingflung at meCountry can go on very well without somuch speech-makingCountry enclosed us to make us feelsnug in our own importanceCountry prizing ornaments higher thanqualitiesCourage to grapple with his pride andopen his heart was wantingCover of action as an escape fromperplexityCowardice is even worse for nationsthan for individual menCrazy zigzag of policy in almost everystroke (of history)Creatures that wait for circumstancesto bring the changeCritical fashion of intimates who knowas well as hearCritical in their first glance at aprima donnaCupid clipped of wing is a destructiveparasiteCurious thing would be if curiousthings should fail to happenDahlia, the perplexity to her sister'sheart, lay stretched....Damsel who has lost the third volume ofan exciting novelDangerous things are uttered after thethird glassDark-eyed Renee was not beauty butattractionDays when you lay on your back and thesky rained applesDead Britons are all Britons, but liveBritons are not quite brothersDeath is always next doorDeath within which welcomed a deathwithoutDeath is only the other side of theditchDeath is our common cloak; but CalamityindividualizesDebit was eloquent, he was unanswerableDecency's a dirty petticoat in theGarden of InnocenceDecent insincerityDecline to practise hypocrisyDedicated to the putrid of the uppercircleDeeds only are the titleDeep as a mother's, pure as a virgin's,fiery as a saint'sDefiance of foes and (what was harderto brave) of friendsDelay in thine undertaking Is disasterof thy own makingDepending for dialogue upon perpetualfresh supplies of scandalDepreciating it after the fashion ofchartered hypocrites.Desire of it destroyed itDespises hostile elements and goesunpunishedDespises the pomades and curling-ironsof modern romanceDetermine that the future is in ourdebt, and draw on itDetestable feminine storms envelopingmen weak enoughDetested titles, invented by theEnglishDeveloping stiff, solid, unobtrusivemen, and very personable womenDialectical stiffnessDialogue between Nature andCircumstanceDid not know the nature of an oath, andwas dismissedDidn't say a word No use in talkingabout feelingsDignitary, and he passed under thebondage of that positionDignity of sulking so seductive to thewounded spirit of manDiscover the writers in a day when allare writing!Discreet play with her eyelids in ourencountersDisqualification of constantlyoffending prejudicesDissent rings out finely, and approvalis a feeble murmurDistaste for all exercise oncepleasurableDistinguished by his not allowinghimself to be provokedDistrust us, and it is a declaration ofwarDithyrambic inebriety of narrationDivided lovers in presenceDo I serve my hand? or, Do I serve myheart?Do you judge of heroes as of lessermen?Dogmatic arrogance of a just butignorant manDogs die more decently than we menDogs' eyes have such a sick look ofloveDose he had taken was not of thesweetestDrank to show his disdain of its powersDreaded as a scourge, hailed as arefreshment (Scandal-sheet)Dreads our climate and coffee too muchto attempt the voyageDrink is their death's river, rollingthem on helplessDudley was not gifted to read behindwords and looksEarl of Cressett fell from his coach-boxin a fitEating, like scratching, only wants abeginningEccentric behaviour in triflesEffort to be reticent concerning Nevil,and communicativeEfforts to weary him out of his projectwere unsuccessfulElderly martyr for the advancement ofhis juniorsEmbarrassments of an uncongenialemploymentEmilia alone of the party was as a blotto herEminently servile is the toleratedlawbreakerEmpanelled to deliver verdicts upon theways of womenEmpty stomachs are foul counsellorsEmpty magnanimity which his unclepresented to himEnamoured young men have these notionsEnemy's laugh is a bugle blown in thenightEnergy to something, that was not to behad in a marketEngland's the foremost country of theglobeEnglish antipathy to babblersEnglish maids are domesticated savageanimalsEnjoys his luxuries and is ashamed ofhis lazinessEnthusiasm struck and tightened theloose chord of scepticismEnthusiasm has the privilege of notknowing monotonyEnthusiast, when not lyrical, isperilously near to boringEnvy of the man of positive knowledgeEqually acceptable salted when itcannot be had freshEverlastingly in this life the betterpays for the worseEvery failure is a step advancedEvery woman that's married isn't inlove with her husbandEvery church of the city lent its irontongue to the pealEverywhere the badge of subjection is apoor stomachExceeding variety and quantity ofthings money can buyExcellent is pride; but oh! be sure ofits foundationsExcess of a merit is a capital offencein moralityExcited, glad of catastrophe if it butkilled monotonyExpectations dupe us, not trustExplaining of things to a dull headExternally soft and polished,internally hard and relentlessExuberant anticipatory trustfulnessExult in imagination of an escape up tothe moment of captureEyes of a lover are not his own; buthis hands and lips areFace betokening the perpetual smack oflemonFailures oft are but advising friendsFaith works miracles. At least itallows time for themFantasticalFar higher quality is the will that cansubdue itself to waitFast growing to be an eccentric byprofessionFatal habit of superiority stopped histongueFather and she were aware of oneanother without conversingFather used to say, four hours for aman, six for a womanFavour can't help coming by rotationFear nought so much as Fear itselfFeel no shame that I do not feel!Feel they are not up to the people theyare mixing withFeeling, nothing beyond a livelyinterest in her well-beingFeigned utter condemnation to makepartial comfort acceptableFell to chatting upon the nothingsagreeably and seriouslyFeminine pity, which is nearer tocontempt than to tendernessFeminine; coming when she willed andflying when wantedFestive board provided for them by thevalour of their fathersFew feelings are single on this globeFew men can forbear to tell a spicystory of their friendsFiddle harmonics on the sensual stringsFine eye for celestially directedconsequences is ever hauntedFine Shades were still too dominant atBrookfieldFinishing touches to the negligenceFire smoothes the creasesFires in the grates went through theceremony of warming nobodyFit of Republicanism in the nurseryFlashes bits of speech that catch menin their unguarded cornerFlung him, pitied him, and passed onFoamy top is offered and gulped asequivalent to an ideaFoe can spoil my face; he beats me ifhe spoils my temperFoist on you their idea of your idea atthe momentFond, as they say, of his glass and hisgirlFoolish trick of thinking for herselfFor 'tis Ireland gives England hersoldiers, her generals tooForewarn readers of this history thatthere is no plot in itForgetfulness is like a closing seaFortitude leaned so much upon the ironyForty seconds too fast, as if it were acapital offenceFound by the side of the bed,inanimate, and pale as a sister ofdeathFound it difficult to forgive her hisown follyFound that he 'cursed better uponwater'Fourth of the GeorgesFrankness as an armour over warinessFretted by his relatives he cannot bemuch of a giantFriend he would not shake off, butcould not well link withFriendship, I fancy, means one heartbetween twoFrom head to foot nothing better than amoan made visibleFrozen vanity called pride, which doesnot seek to be revengedFull-o'-Beer's a hasty chapFun, at any cost, is the one objectworth a shotFurther she read, "Which is the cowardamong us?"Generally he noticed nothingGentlefolks like straight-forwardnessin their inferiorsGentleman who does so much 'cause hesays so littleGentleman in a good state ofpreservationGet back what we giveGiant Vanity urged Giant Energy to makeuse of Giant DuplicityGive our courage as hostage for thefulfilment of what we hopeGive our consciences to the keeping ofthe parsonsGiven up his brains for a lodging to asingle ideaGlimpse of her whole life in the horridtomb of his embraceGone to pieces with an injured lover'sbabbleGood and evil work together in thisworldGood nature, and means no more harmthan he can helpGood nerve to face the scene which heis certain will be enactedGood-bye to sorrow for a while—Keepyour tears for the livingGood maxim for the wrathful—speak notat allGood jokes are not always good policyGoodish sort of fellow; good horseman,good shot, good characterGossip always has some solidfoundation, however smallGovernment of brain; not sufficientInsurrection of heartGradations appear to be unknown to youGraduated naturally enough the finerstages of self-deceptionGrand air of pitying sadnessGratitude never was a woman's giftGratuitous insultGravely reproaching the tobacconist forthe growing costliness of cigarsGreater our successes, the greater theslaves we becomeGreatest of men; who have to learn fromthe loss of the womanGrief of an ill-fortuned passion of hisyouthGrimaces at a government long-nosed tono purposeGrossly unlike in likeness (portraits)Habit had legalized his union with herHabit of antedating his sagacityHabit, what a sacred and admirablething it isHad got the trick of lying, throughfear of telling the truthHad come to be her lover through beingher husbandHad Shakespeare's grandmother threeChristian names?Had taken refuge in their opera-glassesHalf-truth that we may put on the maskof the wholeHalf a dozen dozen leftHalf designingly permitted her troubleto be seenHappiness in love is a match betweenecstasy and complianceHappy the woman who has not more tospeakHappy in privation and suffering ifsimply we can accept beautyHard to bear, at times unbearableHard enough for a man to be married toa foolHard men have sometimes a warmaffection for dogsHaremed opinion of the unfitness ofwomenHated one thing alone—which was'bother'Hated tears, considering them a clog toall useful machineryHates a compromiseHaunted many pillowsHave her profile very frequently whileI am conversing with herHaving contracted the fatal habit ofironyHe was not alive for his own pleasureHe, by insisting, made me a rebelHe bowed to factsHe grunted that a lying clock washateful to himHe has been tolerably honest, Tom, fora man and a loverHe kept saying to himself, 'to-morrow Iwill tell'He postponed it to the next minute andthe nextHe prattled, in the happy ignorance ofcompulsionHe was in love, and subtle love willnot be shamed and smotheredHe thinks that the country must besaved by its women as wellHe is in the season of faultsHe had his character to maintainHe squandered the guineas, shepatiently picked up the penceHe neared her, wooing her; and sheassentedHe judged of others by himselfHe is inexorable, being the guilty oneof the twoHe had to shake up wrath over hisgrievancesHe had gone, and the day lived againfor both of themHe gave a slight sign of restiveness,and was allowed to goHe loathed a skulkerHe clearly could not learn frommisfortuneHe thinks or he chewsHe would neither retort nor defendhimselfHe whipped himself up to one of hisoratorical frenziesHe put no question to anybodyHe took small account of the operationsof the feelingsHe began ambitiously—It's the way atthe beginningHe never explainedHe never acknowledged a trouble, hedispersed itHe was the prisoner of his wordHe wants the whip; ought to have had itregularlyHe had wealth for a likeness ofstrengthHe was a figure on a horse, and naughtwhen off itHe did not vastly respect beautifulwomenHe sinks terribly when he sinks at allHe was not a weaver of phrases indistressHe lies as naturally as an infant sucksHe tried to gather his ideas, but theeffort was like that of a light dreamerHe runs too much from first principlesto extremesHe gained much by claiming littleHe had by nature a tarnishing eye thatcast discolourationHe was too much on fire to know thetaste of absurdityHe smoked, Lord Avonley said of thesecond departureHe had no recollection of having everdined without drinking wineHe stormed her and consented to bebeatenHe will be a part of every history (thefool)He was the maddest of tyrants—a weakoneHe had to go, he must, he has to bealways goingHe never calculated on the happening ofmortal accidentsHe had expected romance, and had metmerchandizeHe condensed a paragraph into a lineHe lost the art of observing himselfHe had neat phrases, opinions inpacketsHe's good from end to end, and beats aChristian hollow (a hog)Hear victorious lawlessness appealingsolemnly to God the lawHeart to keep guard and bury the bonesyou tossed himHeartily she thanked the girl for theexcuse to cryHearts that make one soul do notseparately count their giftsHeathen vindictiveness declaring itselfholyHeights of humour beyond laughterHer intimacy with a man old enough tobe her grandfatherHer vehement fighting against factsHer peculiar tenacity of the sense ofinjuryHer feelings—trustier guides than herjudgement in this crisisHer final impression likened him to ahouse locked up and emptyHer aspect suggested the repose of awinter landscapeHer singing struck a note of gratefulremembered delightHer duel with TimeHere, where he both wished and wishednot to beHere and there a plain good soul towhom he was affectionateHermits enamoured of wind and rainHero embarked in the redemption of anerring beautiful womanHeroine, in common with the hero, hasher ambition to be of useHerself, content to be dull if he mightshineHesitating strangeness that sometimesgathers during absencesHimself in the worn old surplice of theconverted rakeHis aim to win the woman acknowledgedno obstacle in the meansHis idea of marriage is, the taking ofthe woman into custodyHis gaze and one of his ears, if notthe pair, were givenHis ridiculous equanimityHis alien ideas were not unimpressed bythe pictureHis restored sense of possessionHis wife alone, had, as they termed it,kept him togetherHis equanimity was fictitiousHis fancy performed miraculous featsHis violent earnestness, his imperialself-confidenceHis apparent cynicism is sheerirritabilityHolding to the refusal, for the sake ofconsistencyHolding to his work after the strain'sover—That tells the manHoly images, and other miraculousobjects are soldHonest creatures who will not accept alift from fictionHope which lies in giving men a dose ofhystericsHopeless task of defending a woman froma womanHopes of a coming disillusion thatwould restore himHosts of men are of the simple order ofthe comicHow angry I should be with you if youwere not so beautiful!How Success derides Ambition!How many degrees from love gratitudemay beHow immensely nature seems to prefermen to women!How little a thing serves Fortune'sturnHow to compromise the matter for thesake of peace?How many instruments cannot cleverwomen play uponHow little we mean to do harm when wedo an injuryHug the hatred they packed up amongtheir bundlesHuman nature to feel an interest in thedog that has bitten youHumour preserved her from excesses ofsentimentHuntress with few scruples and the gameunguardedHushing together, they agreed that ithad been a false moveI do not defend myself everI have learnt as much from lightliterature as from heavyI have and hold—you shall hunger andcovetI cannot get on with GibbonI could be in love with her cruelty, ifonly I had her near meI married a cook She expects a bigappetiteI want no more, except to be taught toworkI detest anything that has to do withgratitudeI know nothing of imaginationI haven't got the pluck of a fleaI hate old age It changes you soI would cut my tongue out, if it didyou a serviceI can't think brisk out of my breechesI look on the back of lifeI never pay compliments to transparentmeritI always respected her; I never likedherI give my self, I do not sellI cannot live a life of deceit. A lifeof misery—not deceitI was discontented, and could not speakmy discontentI laughed louder than was necessaryI had to cross the park to give alessonI cannot delay; but I request you, that