EXCERPTS FROM THE FORSYTE SAGA
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A thing slipped between him and all previous knowledge Afraid of being afraid Afraid to show emotion before his son Always wanted more than he could have Aromatic spirituality As she will, when she will, not at all if she will not Attack his fleas; for though he was supposed to have none Avoided expression of all unfashionable emotion Back of beauty was harmony Back of harmony was—union Beauty is the devil, when you're sensitive to it! Blessed capacity of living again in the young But it tired him and he was glad to sit down But the thistledown was still as death By the cigars they smoke, and the composers they love Change—for there never was any—always upset her very much Charm; and the quieter it was, the more he liked it Compassion was checked by the tone of that close voice Conceived for that law a bitter distaste Conscious beauty Detached and brotherly attitude towards his own son Did not mean to try and get out of it by vulgar explanation Did not want to be told of an infirmity Dislike of humbug Dogs: with rudiments of altruism and a sense of God Don't care whether we're right or wrong Don't hurt others more than is absolutely necessary Early morning does not mince words Era which had canonised hypocrisy Evening not conspicuous for open-heartedness Everything in life he wanted—except a little more breath Fatigued by the insensitive, he avoided fatiguing others Felt nearly young Forgiven me; but she could never forget Forsytes always bat Free will was the strength of any tie, and not its weakness Get something out of everything you do Greater expense can be incurred for less result than anywhere Hard-mouthed women who laid down the law He could not plead with her; even an old man has his dignity He saw himself reflected: An old-looking chap Health—He did not want it at such cost Horses were very uncertain I have come to an end; if you want me, here I am I never stop anyone from doing anything I shan't marry a good man, Auntie, they're so dull! If not her lover in deed he was in desire Importance of mundane matters became increasingly grave Intolerable to be squeezed out slowly, without a say yourself Ironical, which is fatal to expansiveness Ironically mistrustful Is anything more pathetic than the faith of the young? It was their great distraction: To wait! Know how not to grasp and destroy! Law takes a low view of human nature Let her come to me as she will, when she will Little notion of how to butter her bread Living on his capital Longing to escape in generalities beset him Love has no age, no limit; and no death Man had money, he was free in law and fact Ministered to his daughter's love of domination More spiritual enjoyment of his coffee and cigar Never give himself away Never seemed to have occasion for verbal confidences Never since had any real regard for conventional morality Never to see yourself as others see you No money! What fate could compare with that? None of them quite knew what she meant None of us—none of us can hold on for ever! Not going to run with the hare and hunt with the hounds Nothing left to do but enjoy beauty from afar off Nothing overmastering in his feeling Old men learn to forego their whims One cannot see the havoc oneself is working One could break away into irony—as indeed he often had to One who has never known a struggle with desperation One's never had enough Only aversion lasts Only Time was good for sorrow Own feelings were not always what mattered most People who don't live are wonderfully preserved Perching-place; never-never her cage! Philosophy of one on whom the world had turned its back Pity, they said, was akin to love! Preferred to concentrate on the ownership of themselves Putting up a brave show of being natural Quiet possession of his own property Quivering which comes when a man has received a deadly insult Self-consciousness is a handicap Selfishness of age had not set its proper grip on him Sense of justice stifled condemnation Servants knew everything, and suspected the rest Shall not expect this time more than I can get, or she can give She used to expect me to say it more often than I felt it Sideways look which had reduced many to silence in its time Smiled because he could have cried So difficult to be sorry for him 'So we go out!' he thought 'No more beauty! Nothing?' Socialists: they want our goods Sorrowful pleasure Spirit of the future, with the charm of the unknown Striking horror of the moral attitude Sum of altruism in man Surprised that he could have had so paltry an idea Tenderness to the young Thank you for that good lie Thanks awfully That dog was a good dog The Queen—God bless her! The soundless footsteps on the grass! There was no one in any sort of authority to notice him There went the past! To seem to be respectable was to be Too afraid of committing himself in any direction Trees take little account of time Unfeeling process of legal regulation Unknowable Creative Principle Unlikely to benefit its beneficiaries Wanted things so inexorably until she got them Waves of sweetness and regret flooded his soul Weighing you to the ground with care and love Went out as if afraid of being answered What do you mean by God? When you fleece you're sorry When you're fleeced you're sick Where Beauty was, nothing ever ran quite straight Whole world was in conspiracy to limit freedom With the wisdom of a long life old JoIyon did not speak Witticism of which he was not the author was hardly to his taste Wonderful finality about a meal You have to buy experience
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