THE MOST EXTENSIVE
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We may deserve grief; but why should women be unhappy?--except that we know heaven chastens those whom it loves best, being pleased by repeated trials to make these pure spirits more pure.
We pass by common objects or persons without noticing them; but the keen eye detects and notes types everywhere and among all classes.
What a dignity it gives an old lady, that balance at the bankers! How tenderly we look at her faults if she is a relative; what a kind, good-natured old creature we find her!
What is it to be a gentleman? Is it to be honest, to be gentle, to be generous, to be brave, to be wise, and, possessing all these qualities, to exercise them in the most graceful outward manner? Ought a gentleman to be a loyal son, a true husband, an honest father? Ought his life to be decent, his bills to be paid, his taste to be high and elegant, his aims in life lofty and noble?
What man's life is not overtaken by one or more of those tornadoes that send us out of the course, and fling us on rocks to shelter as best we may?
What stories are new? All types of all characters march through all fables.
When a man is in love with one woman in a family, it is astonishing how fond he becomes of every person connected with it. He ingratiates himself with the maids; he is bland with the butler; he interests himself about the footman; he runs on errands for the daughters; he gives advice and lends money to the youngest son at college; he pats little dogs which he would kick otherwise; he smiles at old stories which would make him break out in yawns, were they uttered by any one but papa; he drinks sweet port wine, for which he would curse the steward and the whole committee of a club; he bears even with the cantankerous old maiden aunt; he beats time when darling little Fanny performs her piece on the piano; smiles when wicked, lively little Bobby upsets the coffee over his shirt.
When a mother, as fond mothers will; vows that she knows every thought in her daughter's heart, I think she pretends to know a great deal too much.
When Fate wills that something should come to pass, she sends forth a million of little circumstances to clear and prepare the way.
Which of us that is thirty years old has not had his Pompeii? Deep under ashes lies Life, Youth, the careless sports, the pleasures and passions, the darling joy.
Who feels injustice, who shrinks before a slight, who has a sense of wrong so acute, and so glowing a gratitude for kindness, as a generous boy?
Who has not seen how women bully women? What tortures have men to endure compared to those daily repeated shafts of scorn and cruelty with which poor women are riddled by the tyrants of their sex?
Women equitable, logical, and utterly just! Mercy upon us! If they were, population would cease, the world would be a howling wilderness.
You can't order remembrance out of the mind; and a wrong that was a wrong yesterday must be a wrong to-morrow.
You who are ashamed of your poverty, and blush for your calling, are a snob; as are you who boast of your pedigree, or are proud of your wealth.
You, who forget your own friends, meanly to follow after those of a higher degree, are a snob.
Young ladies may have been crossed in love, and have had their sufferings, their frantic moments of grief and tears, their wakeful nights, and so forth; but it is only in very sentimental novels that people occupy themselves perpetually with that passion, and I believe what are called broken hearts are a very rare article indeed.
Who is the dark horse he has in his stable?
- Adventures of Philip [Politics]
This Bouillabaisse a noble dish is--
A sort of soup or broth, or brew,
Or hotchpotch of all sorts of fishes,
That Greenwich never could outdo;
Green herbs, red peppers, mussels, saffron,
Soles, onions, garlic, roach, and dace;
All these you eat at Terre's tavern,
In that one dish of Bouillabaisse.
- Ballad of Bouillabaisse [Cookery]
It is impossible, in our condition of Society, not to be sometimes a Snob.
- Book of Snobs (ch. III) [Society]
Here lies Fred,
Who was alive and is dead.
Had it been his father,
I had much rather.
Had it been his brother,
Still better than another.
Had it been his sister,
No one would have missed her.
Had it been the whole generation,
Still better for the nation.
But since 'tis only Fred,
Who was alive, and is dead,
There's no more to be said.
- Four Georges,
Epitaph to Frederick, Prince of Wales (Father of George III)
Bravery never goes out of fashion.
- Four Georges--George Second [Bravery]
It is to the middle class we must look for the safety of England.
- Four Georges--George the Third [Public]
There were three sailors of Bristol City
Who took a boat and went to sea.
But first with beef and captain's biscuits
And pickled pork they loaded she.
There was gorging Jack and guzzling Jimmy,
And the youngest he was little Billee.
Now when they got as far as the Equator
They'd nothing left but one split pea.
- Little Billee [Navigation]
When I say that I know women, I mean that I know that I don't know them. Every single woman I ever knew is a puzzle to me, as I have no doubt she is to herself.
- Mr. Brown's Letters [Women]
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