ficence of the unseen Powers who feed us
Cold curiosity
Dahlia, the perplexity to her sister's heart, lay stretched....
Dead Britons are all Britons, but live Britons are not quite brothers
Developing stiff, solid, unobtrusive men, and very personable women
Exceeding variety and quantity of things money can buy
Found by the side of the bed, inanimate, and pale as a sister of death
Full-o'-Beer's a hasty chap
Gravely reproaching the tobacconist for the growing costliness of cigars
He had no recollection of having ever dined without drinking wine
He tried to gather his ideas, but the effort was like that of a light dreamer
He lies as naturally as an infant sucks
He will be a part of every history (the fool)
I haven't got the pluck of a flea
I never pay compliments to transparent merit
I would cut my tongue out, if it did you a service
Inferences are like shadows on the wall
It was her prayer to heaven that she might save a doctor's bill
Land and beasts! They sound like blessed things
Love dies like natural decay
Marriage is an awful thing, where there's no love
Mrs. Fleming, of Queen Anne's Farm, was the wife of a yeoman
My first girl--she's brought disgrace on this house
My plain story is of two Kentish damsels
One learns to have compassion for fools, by studying them
Pleasant companion, who did not play the woman obtrusively among men
Principle of examining your hypothesis before you proceed to decide by it
Rhoda will love you. She is firm when she loves
Silence is commonly the slow poison used by those who mean to murder love
Sinners are not to repent only in words
So long as we do not know that we are performing any remarkable feat
Sort of religion with her to believe no wrong of you
The unhappy, who do not wish to live, and cannot die
The kindest of men can be cruel
The idea of love upon the lips of ordinary men, provoked Dahlia's irony
The backstairs of history (Memoirs)
The woman seeking for an anomaly wants a master
Then, if you will not tell me
There were joy-bells for Robert and Rhoda, but none for Dahlia
To be a really popular hero anywhere in Britain (must be a drinker)
To be her master, however, one must not begin by writhing as her slave
Wait till the day's ended before you curse your luck
William John Fleming was simply a poor farmer
With this money, said the demon, you might speculate
Work is medicine
You who may have cared for her through her many tribulations, have no fear
You choose to give you