"'Let the dead past bury its dead.'"
"Yes, I will sleep," he answered.
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Aboriginal dispersion
And even envy praised her
Audience that patronisingly listens outside a room or window
But to pay the vulgar penalty of prison—ah!
Death is a magnificent ally; it untangles knots
Engrossed more, it seemed, in the malady than in the man
For a man having work to do, woman, lovely woman, is rocks
It is difficult to be idle—and important too
It is hard to be polite to cowards
Jews everywhere treated worse than the Chinaman
One always buys back the past at a tremendous price
One doesn't choose to worry
Saying uncomfortable things in a deferential way
Slow-footed hours wandered by, leaving apathy in their train
That anxious civility which beauty can inspire
The ravings of a sick man are not always counted ravings
The sea is a great breeder of friendship
The tender care of a woman—than many pharmacopoeias
Vanity; and from this much feminine hatred springs
Very severe on those who do not pretend to be good
What is gone is gone Graves are idolatry
Who get a morbid enjoyment out of misery