An inner sorrow is a consuming fire
At first--and at the last--he was kind
Awkward for your friends and gratifying to your enemies
Carrying with him the warm atmosphere of a good woman’s love
Courage; without which, men are as the standing straw
Delicate revenge which hath its hour with every man
Evil is half-accidental, half-natural
Fascinating colour which makes evil appear to be good
Freedom is the first essential of the artistic mind
Good is often an occasion more than a condition
Had the luck together, all kinds and all weathers
He does not love Pierre; but he does not pretend to love him
Hunger for happiness is robbery
I was born insolent
If one remembers, why should the other forget
Instinct for detecting veracity, having practised on both sides
Irishmen have gifts for only two things--words and women
It is not Justice that fills the gaols, but Law
It is not much to kill or to die--that is in the game
Knowing that his face would never be turned from me
Likenesses between the perfectly human and the perfectly animal
Longed to touch, oftener than they did, the hands of children
Meditation is the enemy of action
Men and women are unwittingly their own executioners
More idle than wicked
Mothers always forgive
My excuses were making bad infernally worse
Noise is not battle
Nothing so good as courage, nothing so base as the shifting eye
Philosophy which could separate the petty from the prodigious
Reconciling the preacher and the sinner, as many another has
Remember your own sins before you charge others
She was beginning to understand that evil is not absolute
She wasn’t young, but she seemed so
The soul of goodness in things evil
The Injin speaks the truth, perhaps--eye of red man multlpies
The Government cherish the Injin much in these days
The gods made last to humble the pride of men--there was rum
The higher we go the faster we live
The Barracks of the Free
The world is not so bad as is claimed for it
Time is the test, and Time will have its way with me
Whatever has been was a dream; whatever is now is real
Where I should never hear the voice of the social Thou must
You do not shout dinner till you have your knife in the loaf