Carry explosives and must particularly guard against sparks
     Charitable mercifulness; better than sentimental ointment
     Chaste are wattled in formalism and throned in sourness
     Circumstances may combine to make a whisper as deadly as a blow
     Common sense is the secret of every successful civil agitation
     Compared the governing of the Irish to the management of a horse
     Could have designed this gabbler for the mate
     Could the best of men be simply—­a woman’s friend? 
     Debit was eloquent, he was unanswerable
     Dedicated to the putrid of the upper circle
     Depending for dialogue upon perpetual fresh supplies of scandal
     Dose he had taken was not of the sweetest
     Dreaded as a scourge, hailed as a refreshment (Scandalsheet)
     Elderly martyr for the advancement of his juniors
     Enthusiasm has the privilege of not knowing monotony
     Envy of the man of positive knowledge
     Expectations dupe us, not trust
     Explaining of things to a dull head
     Externally soft and polished, internally hard and relentless
     Favour can’t help coming by rotation
     Fiddle harmonics on the sensual strings
     Flashes bits of speech that catch men in their unguarded corner
     For ’tis Ireland gives England her soldiers, her generals too
     Friendship, I fancy, means one heart between two
     Get back what we give
     Goodish sort of fellow; good horseman, good shot, good character
     Grossly unlike in likeness (portraits)
     Happy in privation and suffering if simply we can accept beauty
     He was not a weaver of phrases in distress
     He had by nature a tarnishing eye that cast discolouration
     He gained much by claiming little
     He, by insisting, made me a rebel
     He had neat phrases, opinions in packets
     He was the maddest of tyrants—­a weak one
     He’s good from end to end, and beats a Christian hollow (a hog)
     Heart to keep guard and bury the bones you tossed him
     Her peculiar tenacity of the sense of injury
     Her feelings—­trustier guides than her judgement in this crisis
     Her final impression likened him to a house locked up and empty
     Herself, content to be dull if he might shine
     His gaze and one of his ears, if not the pair, were given
     His ridiculous equanimity
     Holding to the refusal, for the sake of consistency
     How immensely nature seems to prefer men to women! 
     Human nature to feel an interest in the dog that has bitten you
     I wanted a hero
     I do not see it, because I will not see it
     I never knew till this morning the force of No in earnest
     I have and hold—­you shall hunger and covet
     I don’t count them against women (moods)
     I’m in love with everything she wishes!  I’ve got the habit
     Idea is the only vital