Those days of intellectual coxcombry Threats of prayer, however, that harp upon their sincerity To be passive in calamity is the province of no woman Troublesome appendages of success Unaccustomed to have his will thwarted Who rises from Prayer a better man, his prayer is answered Wise in not seeking to be too wise Woman will be the last thing civilized by Man Women are swift at coming to conclusions in these matters Yet, though Angels smile, shall not Devils laugh You've got no friend but your bed Young as when she looked upon the lovers in Paradise SANDRA BELLONI, V1 [GM#19][GM19V10.TXT]4413 Being heard at night, in the nineteenth century Pleasure sat like an inextinguishable light on her face Beyond a plot of flowers, a gold-green meadow dipped to a ridge His alien ideas were not unimpressed by the picture Hushing together, they agreed that it had been a false move I had to make my father and mother live on potatoes I had to cross the park to give a lesson She was perhaps a little the taller of the two The circle which the ladies of Brookfield were designing The gallant cornet adored delicacy and a gilded refinement The philosopher (I would keep him back if I could) They had all noticed, seen, and observed SANDRA BELLONI, V2 [GM#20][GM20V10.TXT]4414 Emilia alone of the party was as a blot to her I cannot delay; but I request you, that are here privileged I detest anything that has to do with gratitude Love, with his accustomed cunning No nose to the hero, no moral to the tale Nor can a protest against coarseness be sweepingly interpreted One of those men whose characters are read off at a glance The majority, however, had been snatched out of this bliss Their way was down a green lane and across long meadow-paths They, meantime, who had a contempt for sleep Women are wonderfully quick scholars under ridicule SANDRA BELLONI, V3 [GM#21][GM21V10.TXT]4415 And, ladies, if you will consent to be likened to a fruit Passion does not inspire dark appetite--Dainty innocence does The sentimentalists are represented by them among the civilized The woman follows the man, and music fits to verse, You have not to be told that I desire your happiness above all Wilfrid perceived that he had become an old man SANDRA BELLONI, V4 [GM#22][GM22V10.TXT]4416 A marriage without love is dishonour Bear in mind that we are sentimentalists--The eye is our servant I am not ashamed Love that shrieks at a mortal wound, and bleeds humanly Love the poor devil My mistress! My glorious stolen fruit! My dark angel of love Poor mortals are not in the habit of climbing Olympus to ask Revived for them so much of themselves Solitude is pasturage for a suspicion Victims of the modern feminine'ideal' SANDRA BELLONI, V5 [GM#23][GM23V10.TXT]4417