Familiarity with her other servants is it that spoils them all
Fear it may do him no good, but me hurt
Fearful that I might not go far enough with my hat off
Feverish, and hath sent for Mr. Pierce to let him blood
Found guilty, and likely will be hanged (for stealing spoons)
Found him a fool, as he ever was, or worse
Galileo’s air thermometer, made before 1597
Give her a Lobster and do so touse her and feel her all over
God knows that I do not find honesty enough in my own mind
Goes with his guards with him publiquely, and his trumpets
Goes down the wind in honour as well as every thing else
Great plot which was lately discovered in Ireland
Had a good supper of an oxe’s cheek
Half a pint of Rhenish wine at the Still-yard, mixed with beer
Hanged with a silken halter
He is too wise to be made a friend of
He hoped he should live to see her “ugly and willing”
He having made good promises, though I fear his performance
His readiness to speak spoilt all
How highly the Presbyters do talk in the coffeehouses still
I calling her beggar, and she me pricklouse, which vexed me
I and she never were so heartily angry in our lives as to-day
I do not find other people so willing to do business as myself
I slept most of the sermon
I was very angry, and resolve to beat him to-morrow
Ill humour to be so against that which all the world cries up
In some churches there was hardly ten people in the whole church
Insurrection of the Catholiques there
It must be the old ones that must do any good
Jealous, though God knows I have no great reason
John has got a wife, and for that he intends to part with him
Justice of proceeding not to condemn a man unheard
Keep at interest, which is a good, quiett, and easy profit
King was gone to play at Tennis
Lady Castlemaine hath all the King’s Christmas presents
Lay long in bed talking and pleasing myself with my wife
Lay very long with my wife in bed talking with great pleasure
Lay chiding, and then pleased with my wife in bed
Liability of a husband to pay for goods supplied his wife
Many thousands in a little time go out of England
Matters in Ireland are full of discontent
Money, which sweetens all things
Most flat dead sermon, both for matter and manner of delivery
Much discourse, but little to be learned
My maid Susan ill, or would be thought so
My wife has got too great head to be brought down soon
My wife and her maid Ashwell had between them spilled the pot. . . . 
No more matter being made of the death of one than another
No sense nor grammar, yet in as good words that ever I saw
Nor will yield that the Papists have any ground given them
Nor would become obliged too much to any
Nothing in the world done with true integrity
Nothing of any truth and sincerity, but mere envy and design
Nothing is to be got without offending God and the