Chapter 8

A dumb tongue can be a heavy liar Accounting his tight blue tail coat and brass buttons a victory Advised not to push at a shut gate Always the shout for more produced it ("News") Amused after their tiresome work of slaughter And her voice, against herself, was for England Anecdotist to slaughter families for the amusement As faith comes--no saying how; one swears by them As for comparisons, they are flowers thrown into the fire As if the age were the injury! Be the woman and have the last word! Bent double to gather things we have tossed away Brains will beat Grim Death if we have enough of them But a great success is full of temptations Call of the great world's appetite for more (Invented news) Charity that supplied the place of justice was not thanked Cock-sure has crowed low by sunset Contempt of military weapons and ridicule of the art of war Could affect me then, without being flung at me Country enclosed us to make us feel snug in our own importance Courage to grapple with his pride and open his heart was wanting Deeds only are the title Detested titles, invented by the English Did not know the nature of an oath, and was dismissed Dogs' eyes have such a sick look of love Drank to show his disdain of its powers Drink is their death's river, rolling them on helpless Earl of Cressett fell from his coach-box in a fit Enemy's laugh is a bugle blown in the night Everlastingly in this life the better pays for the worse Fatal habit of superiority stopped his tongue Father used to say, four hours for a man, six for a woman Father and she were aware of one another without conversing Festive board provided for them by the valour of their fathers Flung him, pitied him, and passed on Foe can spoil my face; he beats me if he spoils my temper Fond, as they say, of his glass and his girl Found that he 'cursed better upon water' Fun, at any cost, is the one object worth a shot Good-bye to sorrow for a while--Keep your tears for the living Had got the trick of lying, through fear of telling the truth Hard enough for a man to be married to a fool He did not vastly respect beautiful women He was a figure on a horse, and naught when off it He had wealth for a likeness of strength He wants the whip; ought to have had it regularly He was the prisoner of his word Heartily she thanked the girl for the excuse to cry Hearts that make one soul do not separately count their gifts Her intimacy with a man old enough to be her grandfather Himself in the worn old surplice of the converted rake I hate sleep: I hate anything that robs me of my will Ideas in gestation are the dullest matter you can have Injury forbids us to be friends again Innocence and uncleanness may go together It was an honest buss, but dear at ten thousand Lies are usurers' coin we pay for ten thousand per cent Life is the burlesque of young dreams Limit was two bottles of port wine at a sitting Little boy named Tommy Wedger said he saw a dead body go by Look backward only to correct an error of conduct in future Love of pleasure keeps us blind children Magnificent in generosity; he had little humaneness Make a girl drink her tears, if they ain't to be let fall Meditations upon the errors of the general man, as a cover Mighty Highnesses who had only smelt the outside edge of battle Never forgave an injury without a return blow for it No enemy's shot is equal to a weak heart in the act Not afford to lose, and a disposition free of the craving to win Not to be the idol, to have an aim of our own Objects elevated even by a decayed world have their magnetism On a morning when day and night were made one by fog One idea is a bullet Past, future, and present, the three weights upon humanity Pebble may roll where it likes--not so the costly jewel Poetic romance is delusion Push me to condense my thoughts to a tight ball Put material aid at a lower mark than gentleness Puzzle to connect the foregoing and the succeeding Quick to understand, she is in the quick of understanding Reflection upon a statement is its lightning in advance Religion condones offences: Philosophy has no forgiveness Religion is the one refuge from women Scorn titles which did not distinguish practical offices Sensitiveness to the sting, which is not allowed to poison Seventy, when most men are reaping and stacking their sins She seemed really a soaring bird brought down by the fowler She was thrust away because because he had offended She stood with a dignity that the word did not express She endured meekly, when there was no meekness Should we leave a good deed half done Showery, replied the admiral, as his cocked-hat was knocked off So much for morality in those days! So indulgent when they drop their blot on a lady's character Steady shakes them Strengthening the backbone for a bend of the knee in calamity Style is the mantle of greatness Sweetest on earth to her was to be prized by her brother That sort of progenitor is your "permanent aristocracy" The habit of the defensive paralyzes will The embraced respected woman The idol of the hour is the mob's wooden puppet The divinely damnable naked truth won't wear ornaments Their sneer withers There is no driver like stomach There's not an act of a man's life lies dead behind him They could have pardoned her a younger lover Those who have the careless chatter, the ready laugh Those who know little and dread much Thus are we stricken by the days of our youth Tighter than ever I was tight I'll be to-night To most men women are knaves or ninnies Touch sin and you accommodate yourself to its vileness Truth is, they have taken a stain from the life they lead Very little parleying between determined men Wakening to the claims of others--Youth's infant conscience Warm, is hardly the word--Winter's warm on skates We make our taskmasters of those to whom we have done a wrong We shall go together; we shall not have to weep for one another With one idea, we see nothing--nothing but itself Woman finds herself on board a rudderless vessel Women treat men as their tamed housemates Wooing her with dog's eyes instead of words Writer society delights in, to show what it is composed of You played for gain, and that was a licenced thieving You saw nothing but handkerchiefs out all over the theatre You are to imagine that they know everything You want me to flick your indecision

CELT AND SAXON, V1 [GM#95][GM95V10.TXT]4489

A contented Irishman scarcely seems my countryman A country of compromise goes to pieces at the first cannon-shot A lady's company-smile A superior position was offered her by her being silent And it's one family where the dog is pulled by the collar Arch-devourer Time As if she had never heard him previously enunciate the formula As secretive as they are sensitive Be politic and give her elbow-room for her natural angles Becoming air of appropriation that made it family history Constitutionally discontented Decency's a dirty petticoat in the Garden of Innocence England's the foremost country of the globe Enjoys his luxuries and is ashamed of his laziness Fires in the grates went through the ceremony of warming nobody Foist on you their idea of your idea at the moment Grimaces at a government long-nosed to no purpose He judged of others by himself Hear victorious lawlessness appealing solemnly to God the law Her aspect suggested the repose of a winter landscape Here, where he both wished and wished not to be I 'm the warming pan, as legitimately I should be I detest enthusiasm I never saw out of a doll-shop, and never saw there Indirect communication with heaven Ireland 's the sore place of England Irishman there is a barrow trolling a load of grievances Irony in him is only eulogy standing on its head Lack of precise words admonished him of the virtue of silence Married at forty, and I had to take her shaped as she was Men must fight: the law is only a quieter field for them Mika! you did it in cold blood? No man can hear the words which prove him a prophet (quietly) Not so much read a print as read the imprinting on themselves Not to bother your wits, but leave the puzzle to the priest Old houses are doomed to burnings Our lawyers have us inside out, like our physicians Philip was a Spartan for keeping his feelings under Taste a wound from the lightest touch, and they nurse the venom That fiery dragon, a beautiful woman with brains The race is for domestic peace, my boy We're all of us hit at last, and generally by our own weapon We're smitten to-day in our hearts and our pockets Welsh blood is queer blood Where one won't and can't, poor t' other must Winds of panic are violently engaged in occupying the vacuum With a frozen fish of admirable principles for wife Withdrew into the entrenchments of contempt You'll tell her you couldn't sit down in her presence undressed

CELT AND SAXON, V2 [GM#96][GM96V10.TXT]4490

A whisper of cajolery in season is often the secret Ah! we're in the enemy's country now Beautiful women may believe themselves beloved Could peruse platitudes upon that theme with enthusiasm Foamy top is offered and gulped as equivalent to an idea Hard men have sometimes a warm affection for dogs He was not alive for his own pleasure Hug the hatred they packed up among their bundles I baint done yet Irishmen will never be quite sincere Loudness of the interrogation precluded thought of an answer Love the children of Erin, when not fretted by them Loves his poets, can almost understand what poetry means May lull themselves with their wakefulness Never forget that old Ireland is weeping Not every chapter can be sunshine Not likely to be far behind curates in besieging an heiress Not the great creatures we assume ourselves to be Nursing of a military invalid awakens tenderer anxieties Paying compliments and spoiling a game! Secret of the art was his meaning what he said Suggestion of possible danger might more dangerous than silence Tears of men sink plummet-deep Tears of such a man have more of blood than of water in them They laugh, but they laugh extinguishingly Time, whose trick is to turn corners of unanticipated sharpness Twisted by a nature that would not allow of open eyes With death; we'd rather not, because of a qualm Woman's precious word No at the sentinel's post, and alert Would like to feel he was doing a bit of good

CELT AND SAXON, ENTIRE [GM#97][GM97V10.TXT]4491

A country of compromise goes to pieces at the first cannon-shot A lady's company-smile A superior position was offered her by her being silent A whisper of cajolery in season is often the secret A contented Irishman scarcely seems my countryman Ah! we're in the enemy's country now And it's one family where the dog is pulled by the collar Arch-devourer Time As secretive as they are sensitive As if she had never heard him previously enunciate the formula Be politic and give her elbow-room for her natural angles Beautiful women may believe themselves beloved Becoming air of appropriation that made it family history Constitutionally discontented Could peruse platitudes upon that theme with enthusiasm Decency's a dirty petticoat in the Garden of Innocence England's the foremost country of the globe Enjoys his luxuries and is ashamed of his laziness Fires in the grates went through the ceremony of warming nobody Foamy top is offered and gulped as equivalent to an idea Foist on you their idea of your idea at the moment Grimaces at a government long-nosed to no purpose Hard men have sometimes a warm affection for dogs He judged of others by himself He was not alive for his own pleasure Hear victorious lawlessness appealing solemnly to God the law Her aspect suggested the repose of a winter landscape Here, where he both wished and wished not to be Hug the hatred they packed up among their bundles I never saw out of a doll-shop, and never saw there I 'm the warming pan, as legitimately I should be I detest enthusiasm I baint done yet Indirect communication with heaven Ireland 's the sore place of England Irishman there is a barrow trolling a load of grievances Irishmen will never be quite sincere Irony in him is only eulogy standing on its head Lack of precise words admonished him of the virtue of silence Loudness of the interrogation precluded thought of an answer Love the children of Erin, when not fretted by them Loves his poets, can almost understand what poetry means Married at forty, and I had to take her shaped as she was May lull themselves with their wakefulness Men must fight: the law is only a quieter field for them Mika! you did it in cold blood? Never forget that old Ireland is weeping No man can hear the words which prove him a prophet (quietly) Not every chapter can be sunshine Not likely to be far behind curates in besieging an heiress Not the great creatures we assume ourselves to be Not so much read a print as read the imprinting on themselves Not to bother your wits, but leave the puzzle to the priest Nursing of a military invalid awakens tenderer anxieties Old houses are doomed to burnings Our lawyers have us inside out, like our physicians Paying compliments and spoiling a game! Philip was a Spartan for keeping his feelings under Secret of the art was his meaning what he said Suggestion of possible danger might more dangerous than silence Taste a wound from the lightest touch, and they nurse the venom Tears of men sink plummet-deep Tears of such a man have more of blood than of water in them That fiery dragon, a beautiful woman with brains The race is for domestic peace, my boy They laugh, but they laugh extinguishingly Time, whose trick is to turn corners of unanticipated sharpness Twisted by a nature that would not allow of open eyes We're all of us hit at last, and generally by our own weapon We're smitten to-day in our hearts and our pockets Welsh blood is queer blood Where one won't and can't, poor t' other must Winds of panic are violently engaged in occupying the vacuum With a frozen fish of admirable principles for wife With death; we'd rather not, because of a qualm Withdrew into the entrenchments of contempt Woman's precious word No at the sentinel's post, and alert Would like to feel he was doing a bit of good You'll tell her you couldn't sit down in her presence undressed

FARINA [GM#98][GM98V10.TXT]4492

A generous enemy is a friend on the wrong side All are friends who sit at table Be what you seem, my little one Bed was a rock of refuge and fortified defence Civil tongue and rosy smiles sweeten even sour wine Dangerous things are uttered after the third glass Everywhere the badge of subjection is a poor stomach Face betokening the perpetual smack of lemon Gratitude never was a woman's gift It was harder to be near and not close Loving in this land: they all go mad, straight off Never reckon on womankind for a wise act Self-incense Sign that the evil had reached from pricks to pokes So are great deeds judged when the danger's past (as easy) Soft slumber of a strength never yet called forth Suspicion was her best witness Sweet treasure before which lies a dragon sleeping We like well whatso we have done good work for Weak reeds who are easily vanquished and never overcome Weak stomach is certainly more carnally virtuous than a full one Wins everywhere back a reflection of its own kindliness

CASE OF GENERAL OPEL [GM#99][GM99V10.TXT]4493

Can believe a woman to be any age when her cheeks are tinted Modest are the most easily intoxicated when they sip at vanity Nature is not of necessity always roaring Only to be described in the tongue of auctioneers Respected the vegetable yet more than he esteemed the flower She seems honest, and that is the most we can hope of girls Spare me that word "female" as long as you live The mildness of assured dictatorship When we see our veterans tottering to their fall

THE TALE OF CHLOE [GM#100][GN00V10.TXT]4494

All flattery is at somebody's expense Be philosophical, but accept your personal dues But I leave it to you Distrust us, and it is a declaration of war Happiness in love is a match between ecstasy and compliance If I do not speak of payment Intellectual contempt of easy dupes Invite indecision to exhaust their scruples Is not one month of brightness as much as we can ask for? No flattery for me at the expense of my sisters Nothing desirable will you have which is not coveted Primitive appetite for noise She might turn out good, if well guarded for a time The alternative is, a garter and the bedpost They miss their pleasure in pursuing it This mania of young people for pleasure, eternal pleasure Wits, which are ordinarily less productive than land

THE HOUSE ON THE BEACH [GM#101][GN01V10.TXT]4495

Adversary at once offensive and helpless provokes brutality Causes him to be popularly weighed Distinguished by his not allowing himself to be provoked Eccentric behaviour in trifles Excited, glad of catastrophe if it but killed monotony Generally he noticed nothing Good jokes are not always good policy I make a point of never recommending my own house Indulged in their privilege of thinking what they liked Infants are said to have their ideas, and why not young ladies? Lend him your own generosity Men love to boast of things nobody else has seen Naughtily Australian and kangarooly Not in love--She was only not unwilling to be in love Rich and poor 's all right, if I'm rich and you're poor She began to feel that this was life in earnest She dealt in the flashes which connect ideas She sought, by looking hard, to understand it better Sunning itself in the glass of Envy That which fine cookery does for the cementing of couples The intricate, which she takes for the infinite Tossed him from repulsion to incredulity, and so back Two principal roads by which poor sinners come to a conscience

THE GENTLEMAN OF FIFTY [GM#102][GN02V10.TXT]4496

A wise man will not squander his laughter if he can help it A woman is hurt if you do not confide to her your plans Gentleman in a good state of preservation Imparting the usual chorus of yesses to his own mind In every difficulty, patience is a life-belt Knew my friend to be one of the most absent-minded of men Rapture of obliviousness Telling her anything, she makes half a face in anticipation When you have done laughing with her, you can laugh at her

THE SENTIMENTALISTS(PLAY) [GM#103][GN03V10.TXT]4497

A great oration may be a sedative A male devotee is within an inch of a miracle Above Nature, I tell him, or, we shall be very much below As in all great oratory! The key of it is the pathos Back from the altar to discover that she has chained herself Cupid clipped of wing is a destructive parasite Excess of a merit is a capital offence in morality His idea of marriage is, the taking of the woman into custody I am a discordant instrument I do not readily vibrate I like him, I like him, of course, but I want to breathe I who respect the state of marriage by refusing Love and war have been compared--Both require strategy Peace, I do pray, for the husband-haunted wife Period of his life a man becomes too voraciously constant Pitiful conceit in men Rejoicing they have in their common agreement Self-worship, which is often self-distrust Suspects all young men and most young women Their idol pitched before them on the floor Were I chained, For liberty I would sell liberty Woman descending from her ideal to the gross reality of man Your devotion craves an enormous exchange

MISCELLANEOUS PROSE [GM#104][GN04V10.TXT]4498

A very doubtful benefit Americans forgivingly remember, without mentioning As becomes them, they do not look ahead Charges of cynicism are common against all satirists Fourth of the Georges Here and there a plain good soul to whom he was affectionate Holy images, and other miraculous objects are sold It is well to learn manners without having them imposed on us Men overweeningly in love with their creations Must be the moralist in the satirist if satire is to strike Not a page of his books reveals malevolence or a sneer Petty concessions are signs of weakness to the unsatisfied Statesman who stooped to conquer fact through fiction The social world he looked at did not show him heroes The exhaustion ensuing we named tranquillity Utterance of generous and patriotic cries is not sufficient We trust them or we crush them We grew accustomed to periods of Irish fever

THE ENTIRE SHORT WORKS OF GEORGE MEREDITH [GM#105][GN05V10.TXT]4499