Sir, your faithful and humble servant
Slabbering themselves, and mirth fit for clownes
So out, and lost our way, which made me vexed
So time do alter, and do doubtless the like in myself
Suffered her humour to spend, till we begun to be very quiet
Tell me that I speak in my dreams
The factious part of the Parliament
The manner of the gaming
The most ingenious men may sometimes be mistaken
The devil being too cunning to discourage a gamester
Their ladies in the box, being grown mighty kind of a sudden
There being no curse in the world so great as this
There setting a poor man to keep my place
This kind of prophane, mad entertainment they give themselves
Though I know it will set the Office and me by the ears for ever
To be enjoyed while we are young and capable of these joys
Tried the effect of my silence and not provoking her
Trouble, and more money, to every Watch, to them to drink
Troubled me, to see the confidence of the vice of the age
Turn out every man that will be drunk, they must turn out all
Uncertainty of beauty
Up, finding our beds good, but lousy; which made us merry
Vexed me, but I made no matter of it, but vexed to myself
Weather being very wet and hot to keep meat in. 
When he was seriously ill he declared himself a Roman Catholic
Where I expect most I find least satisfaction
Where a pedlar was in bed, and made him rise
Whip a boy at each place they stop at in their procession
Whom I find in bed, and pretended a little not well
With hangings not fit to be seen with mine
Without importunity or the contrary
Work that is not made the work of any one man

Diary of Samuel Pepys, January 1668/69 [sp81g10.txt]

Dine with them, at my cozen Roger’s mistress’s
Dutchmen come out of the mouth and tail of a Hamburgh sow
Fain to keep a woman on purpose at 20s. a week
Find it a base copy of a good originall, that vexed me
Found in my head and body about twenty lice, little and great
I have itched mightily these 6 or 7 days
I know I have made myself an immortal enemy by it
Lady Castlemayne is now in a higher command over the King
Mighty fond in the stories she tells of her son Will
Observing my eyes to be mightily employed in the playhouse
Proud, carping, insolent, and ironically-prophane stile
She finds that I am lousy
Unquiet which her ripping up of old faults will give me
Up, and with W. Hewer, my guard, to White Hall
Weeping to myself for grief, which she discerning, come to bed

Diary of Samuel Pepys, Feb/Mar 1668/69 [sp82g10.txt]

Broken sort of people, that have not much to lose
But so fearful I am of discontenting my wife
By her wedding-ring, I suppose he hath married her at last
Have not much to lose, and therefore will venture all
His satisfaction is nothing worth, it being easily got
Nor was there any pretty woman that I did see, but my wife
With egg to keep off the glaring of the light