young people have handy
     What will be thought of me? not a small matter to any of us
     What he did, she took among other inevitable matters
     What’s an eccentric? a child grown grey! 
     When testy old gentlemen could commit slaughter with ecstasy
     When you run away, you don’t live to fight another day
     When Love is hurt, it is self-love that requires the opiate
     Whose bounty was worse to him than his abuse
     Why, he’ll snap your head off for a word
     With good wine to wash it down, one can swallow anything
     With a proud humility
     Wrapped in the comfort of his cowardice
     You do want polish
     You talk your mother with a vengeance
     You accuse or you exonerate—­Nobody can be half guilty
     You rides when you can, and you walks when you must
     You’re the puppet of your women! 
     Youth is not alarmed by the sound of big sums