A witty woman is a treasure; a witty Beauty is a power
A high wind will make a dead leaf fly like a bird
A kindly sense of superiority
Accidents are the specific for averting the maladies of age
Accounting for it, is not the same as excusing
Assist in our small sphere; not come mouthing to the footlights
At war with ourselves, means the best happiness we can have
Avoid the position that enforces publishing
Beautiful women in her position provoke an intemperateness
Beauty is rare; luckily is it rare
Between love grown old and indifference ageing to love
Beware the silent one of an assembly!
Brittle is foredoomed
But they were a hopeless couple, they were so friendly
By resisting, I made him a tyrant
Capacity for thinking should precede the act of writing
Capricious potentate whom they worship
Carry explosives and must particularly guard against sparks
Charitable mercifulness; better than sentimental ointment
Chaste are wattled in formalism and throned in sourness
Circumstances may combine to make a whisper as deadly as a blow
Common sense is the secret of every successful civil agitation
Compared the governing of the Irish to the management of a horse
Could have designed this gabbler for the mate
Could the best of men be simply--a woman's friend?
Debit was eloquent, he was unanswerable
Dedicated to the putrid of the upper circle
Depending for dialogue upon perpetual fresh supplies of scandal
Dose he had taken was not of the sweetest
Dreaded as a scourge, hailed as a refreshment (Scandalsheet)
Elderly martyr for the advancement of his juniors
Enthusiasm has the privilege of not knowing monotony
Envy of the man of positive knowledge
Expectations dupe us, not trust
Explaining of things to a dull head
Externally soft and polished, internally hard and relentless
Favour can't help coming by rotation
Fiddle harmonics on the sensual strings
Flashes bits of speech that catch men in their unguarded corner
For 'tis Ireland gives England her soldiers, her generals too
Friendship, I fancy, means one heart between two
Get back what we give
Goodish sort of fellow; good horseman, good shot, good character
Grossly unlike in likeness (portraits)
Happy in privation and suffering if simply we can accept beauty
He was not a weaver of phrases in distress
He had by nature a tarnishing eye that cast discolouration
He gained much by claiming little
He, by insisting, made me a rebel
He had neat phrases, opinions in packets
He was the maddest of tyrants--a weak one
He's good from end to end, and beats a Christian hollow (a hog)
Heart to keep guard and bury the bones you tossed him
Her peculiar tenacity of the sense of injury
Her feelings--trustier guides than her judgement in this crisis
Her final impression likened him to a house locked up and empty
Herself, content to be dull if he might shine
His gaze and one of his ears, if not the pair, were given
His ridiculous equanimity
Holding to the refusal, for the sake of consistency
How immensely nature seems to prefer men to women!
Human nature to feel an interest in the dog that has bitten you
I wanted a hero
I do not see it, because I will not see it
I never knew till this morning the force of No in earnest
I have and hold--you shall hunger and covet
I don't count them against women (moods)
I'm in love with everything she wishes! I've got the habit
Idea is the only vital breath
If I'm struck, I strike back
If he had valued you half a grain less, he might have won you
Inclined to act hesitation in accepting the aid she sought
Inducement to act the hypocrite before the hypocrite world
Infatuated men argue likewise, and scandal does not move them
Insistency upon there being two sides to a case--to every case
Intrusion of the spontaneous on the stereotyped would clash
Irony that seemed to spring from aversion
It is the best of signs when women take to her
It is the devil's masterstroke to get us to accuse him
Its glee at a catastrophe; its poor stock of mercy
Keep passion sober, a trotter in harness
Lengthened term of peace bred maggots in the heads of the people
Let never Necessity draw the bow of our weakness
Literature is a good stick and a bad horse
Loathing for speculation
Mare would do, and better than a dozen horses
Material good reverses its benefits the more nearly we clasp it
Matter that is not nourishing to brains
Mistake of the world is to think happiness possible to the sense
Mistaking of her desires for her reasons
Money is of course a rough test of virtue
Moral indignation is ever consolatory
Music was resumed to confuse the hearing of the eavesdroppers
Mutual deference
Needed support of facts, and feared them
Never fell far short of outstripping the sturdy pedestrian Time
Nothing the body suffers that the soul may not profit by
Nothing is a secret that has been spoken
Now far from him under the failure of an effort to come near
O self! self! self!
Observation is the most, enduring of the pleasures of life
Omnipotence, which is in the image of themselves
One might build up a respectable figure in negatives
Openly treated; all had an air of being on the surface
Or where you will, so that's in Ireland
Our weakness is the swiftest dog to hunt us
Our bravest, our best, have an impulse to run
Owner of such a woman, and to lose her!
Paint themselves pure white, to the obliteration of minor spots
Perused it, and did not recognize herself in her language
Pride in being always myself
Procrastination and excessive scrupulousness
Question the gain of such an expenditure of energy
Quixottry is agreeable reading, a silly performance
Rare men of honour who can command their passion
Read with his eyes when you meet him this morning
Read deep and not be baffled by inconsistencies
Real happiness is a state of dulness
Reluctant to take the life of flowers for a whim
Rewards, together with the expectations, of the virtuous
Salt of earth, to whom their salt must serve for nourishment
Sentimentality puts up infant hands for absolution
Service of watering the dry and drying the damp (Whiskey)
Sham spiritualism
She had sunk her intelligence in her sensations
She marries, and it's the end of her sparkling
She herself did not like to be seen eating in public
She had a fatal attraction for antiques
Sleepless night
Slightest taste for comic analysis that does not tumble to farce
Smart remarks have their measured distances
Smoky receptacle cherishing millions
Something of the hare in us when the hounds are full cry
Strain to see in the utter dark, and nothing can come of that
Swell and illuminate citizen prose to a princely poetic
Sympathy is for proving, not prating
Tendency to polysyllabic phraseology
Terrible decree, that all must act who would prevail
That is life--when we dare death to live!
That's the natural shamrock, after the artificial
The man had to be endured, like other doses in politics
The burlesque Irishman can't be caricatured
The greed of gain is our volcano
The debts we owe ourselves are the hardest to pay
The well of true wit is truth itself
The blindness of Fortune is her one merit
They have no sensitiveness, we have too much
They create by stoppage a volcano
This love they rattle about and rave about
Tooth that received a stone when it expected candy
Top and bottom sin is cowardice
Touch him with my hand, before he passed from our sight
Trial of her beauty of a woman in a temper
Vagrant compassionateness of sentimentalists
Vowed never more to repeat that offence to his patience
Was not one of the order whose Muse is the Public Taste
We live alone, and do not much feel it till we are visited
We never see peace but in the features of the dead
We must fawn in society
We don't know we are in halves
We're a peaceful people, but 'ware who touches us
Weather and women have some resemblance they say
Weighty little word--woman's native watchdog and guardian (No!)
What might have been
What the world says, is what the wind says
What a woman thinks of women, is the test of her nature
When we despair or discolour things, it is our senses in revolt
Where she appears, the first person falls to second rank
Who can really think, and not think hopefully?
Who venerate when they love
Wife and no wife, a prisoner in liberty
With that I sail into the dark
Without those consolatory efforts, useless between men
Women are taken to be the second thoughts of the Creator
Women with brains, moreover, are all heartless
World is ruthless, dear friends, because the world is hypocrite
World prefers decorum to honesty
Yawns coming alarmingly fast, in the place of ideas
You beat me with the fists, but my spirit is towering
You are entreated to repress alarm