Her duel with Time Her singing struck a note of grateful remembered delight Her final impression likened him to a house locked up and empty Her peculiar tenacity of the sense of injury Here and there a plain good soul to whom he was affectionate Here, where he both wished and wished not to be Hermits enamoured of wind and rain Hero embarked in the redemption of an erring beautiful woman Heroine, in common with the hero, has her ambition to be of use Herself, content to be dull if he might shine Hesitating strangeness that sometimes gathers during absences Himself in the worn old surplice of the converted rake His equanimity was fictitious His gaze and one of his ears, if not the pair, were given His alien ideas were not unimpressed by the picture His idea of marriage is, the taking of the woman into custody His violent earnestness, his imperial self-confidence His ridiculous equanimity His fancy performed miraculous feats His apparent cynicism is sheer irritability His aim to win the woman acknowledged no obstacle in the means His restored sense of possession His wife alone, had, as they termed it, kept him together Holding to his work after the strain's over--That tells the man Holding to the refusal, for the sake of consistency Holy images, and other miraculous objects are sold Honest creatures who will not accept a lift from fiction Hope which lies in giving men a dose of hysterics Hopeless task of defending a woman from a woman Hopes of a coming disillusion that would restore him Hosts of men are of the simple order of the comic How many instruments cannot clever women play upon How little a thing serves Fortune's turn How Success derides Ambition! How immensely nature seems to prefer men to women! How angry I should be with you if you were not so beautiful! How little we mean to do harm when we do an injury How to compromise the matter for the sake of peace? How many degrees from love gratitude may be Hug the hatred they packed up among their bundles Human nature to feel an interest in the dog that has bitten you Humour preserved her from excesses of sentiment Huntress with few scruples and the game unguarded Hushing together, they agreed that it had been a false move I rather like to hear a woman swear. It embellishes her! I ain't a speeder of matrimony I haven't got the pluck of a flea I never pay compliments to transparent merit I 'm the warming pan, as legitimately I should be I always respected her; I never liked her I would cut my tongue out, if it did you a service I do not defend myself ever I want no more, except to be taught to work I married a cook She expects a big appetite I would wait till he flung you off, and kneel to you I detest anything that has to do with gratitude I had to make my father and mother live on potatoes I cannot delay; but I request you, that are here privileged I cannot get on with Gibbon I can confess my sight to be imperfect: but will you ever do so? I have all the luxuries--enough to loathe them