A philosopher when he has all that he wants is different
Accustomed to assurance in the youthful manner
Adept at keeping things to herself
Admiration of beauty and longing for possession are not love
Afraid to enjoy to-day for fear he might not enjoy tomorrow
All else, then, was but preliminary to this!
But they could not keep his eyebrows down
Can you stand this spiritualistic racket?
Clear eyes and an almost depressing amount of common sense
Could fear go with a smile?
Delicacy became a somewhat minor consideration
Determination not to know when he was beaten
Difficult it is for elders to give themselves away to the young
Dinner--consecrated to the susceptibilities of the butler
Disliked the idea of dying
Felt suddenly he might say things she would regret
Fixed idea
Guileless snobbery of youth
How much better than men women play a waiting game
I've got it in the neck, only the feeling is really lower down
Inoculated against the germs of love by small doses
Lest by some dreadful inadvertence they might drop into a tune
Life's awful like a lot of monkeys scramblin' for empty nuts
Like a man uninsured, with his ships at sea
Lunch was the sort a man dreams of but seldom gets
Malaise of one who contemplates himself as seen by another
Men were judged in this world rather by what they were
Nobody can spoil a life, my dear
One does not precisely choose with whom one will fall in love
Only sort of life that doesn't hurt anybody; except art
Parasitically clinging on to the effortless close of a life
Private possession underlay everything worth having
Purpose of marriage was children, not mere sinful happiness
Question so moot that it was not mooted
Quiet tenacity with which he had converted a mediocre talent
Spoiled their rods, spared their children
Take himself seriously, yet never bore others
Tarred with cynicism, realism, and immorality like the French
The young have such cheap, hard judgment
They can't have my private property and my public spirit-both
Thought we were progressing--now we know we're only changing
To be kind and keep your end up--there's nothing else in it
Unless one believed there was something in a thing, there wasn't
Victory in defeat
Wishes father thought but they don't breed evidence
You are a giver, Jon; she is a taker
Younger every day, till at last he had been too young to live
Youth's eagerness to give with both hands, to take with neither
VILLA RUBEIN AND OTHER STORIES
/gutenberg/etext01/vlrbn10.txt
Villa Rubein
A Man of Devon
A Knight
Salvation of a Forsyte
The Silence