There never was a looking-glass that told a woman she was ugly, [25]
There never was a shoe, however handsome, that did not become an ugly slipper, [113]
There were never fewer nobles than when all would be so, [346]
There would be no ill word if it were not ill taken, [235]
There’s cunning in—a pointed chin, [169]
There’s many a knave concealed under a surplice, [366]
There’s neither rhyme nor reason in him, [25]
There’s no argument like that of the stick, [236]
There’s no catching trouts with dry breeches, [286]
There’s no disputing about tastes, [91]