Book 3 — ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
Reading edition
Beautiful women in her position provoke an intemperateness Capricious potentate whom they worship Circumstances may combine to make a whisper as deadly as a blow Compared the governing of the Irish to the management of a horse Could have designed this gabbler for the mate Debit was eloquent, he was unanswerable Explaining of things to a dull head Happy in privation and suffering if simply we can accept beauty He gained much by claiming little Her peculiar tenacity of the sense of injury His ridiculous equanimity Keep passion sober, a trotter in harness Moral indignation is ever consolatory Omnipotence, which is in the image of themselves Strain to see in the utter dark, and nothing can come of that Tendency to polysyllabic phraseology The blindness of Fortune is her one merit They have no sensitiveness, we have too much Top and bottom sin is cowardice Touch him with my hand, before he passed from our sight We must fawn in society We never see peace but in the features of the dead
[The End]