able, and treats me
with contempt

The Countess dieted the vanity
according to the nationality

The letter had a smack of crabbed age
hardly counterfeit

The commonest things are the worst done

The thrust sinned in its shrewdness

The power to give and take flattery to
any amount

Their sneer withers

Their not caring to think at all

Their idol pitched before them on the
floor

Their hearts are eaten up by property

Their way was down a green lane and
across long meadow-paths

Then for us the struggle, for him the
grief

Then, if you will not tell me

There is little to be learnt when a
little is known

There is no history of events below the
surface

There is no first claim

There is no step backward in life

There is more in men and women than the
stuff they utter

There is no driver like stomach

There were joy-bells for Robert and
Rhoda, but none for Dahlia

There is for the mind but one grasp of
happiness

There may be women who think as well as
feel; I don't know them

There are women who go through life not
knowing love

There's nothing like a metaphor for an
evasion

There's not an act of a man's life lies
dead behind him

There's ne'er a worse off but there's a
better off

They have no sensitiveness, we have too
much

They may know how to make themselves
happy in their climate

They dare not. The more I dare, the
less dare they

They have not to speak to exhibit their
minds

They had all noticed, seen, and
observed

They seem to me to be educated to
conceal their education

They miss their pleasure in pursuing it

They could have pardoned her a younger
lover

They take fever for strength, and
calmness for submission

They are little ironical laughter--
Accidents

They have their thinking done for them

They laugh, but they laugh
extinguishingly

They kissed coldly, pressed a hand,
said good night

They create by stoppage a volcano

They want you to show them what they 'd
like the world to be

They, meantime, who had a contempt for
sleep

They believe that the angels have been
busy about them

They helped her to feel at home with
herself

They do not live; they are engines

They're always having to retire and
always hissing

Things are not equal

Things were lumpish and gloomy that day
of the week

Thirst for the haranguing of crowds

This was a totally different case from
the antecedent ones

This mania of young