In Sir Austin's Note-book was written: "Between Simple Boyhood..." In our House, my son, there is peculiar blood. We go to wreck! In India they sacrifice the widows, in France the virgins In every difficulty, patience is a life-belt In the pay of our doctors In bottle if not on draught (oratory) Incapable of putting the screw upon weak excited nature Incessantly speaking of the necessity we granted it unknowingly Inclined to act hesitation in accepting the aid she sought Increase of dissatisfaction with the more she got Indirect communication with heaven Inducement to act the hypocrite before the hypocrite world Indulged in their privilege of thinking what they liked Infallibility of our august mother Infants are said to have their ideas, and why not young ladies? Infatuated men argue likewise, and scandal does not move them Inferences are like shadows on the wall Inflicted no foretaste of her coming subjection to him Informed him that he never played jokes with money, or on men Injury forbids us to be friends again Innocence and uncleanness may go together Insistency upon there being two sides to a case--to every case Intellectual contempt of easy dupes Intensely communicative, but inarticulate Intentions are really rich possessions Intimations of cowardice menacing a paralysis of the will Intrusion of hard material statements, facts Intrusion of the spontaneous on the stereotyped would clash Invite indecision to exhaust their scruples Ireland 's the sore place of England Irishman there is a barrow trolling a load of grievances Irishmen will never be quite sincere Ironical fortitude Irony instead of eloquence Irony in him is only eulogy standing on its head Irony provoked his laughter more than fun Irony that seemed to spring from aversion Irritability at the intrusion of past disputes Is not one month of brightness as much as we can ask for? Is it any waste of time to write of love? Is he jealous? 'Only when I make him, he is.' It is the devil's masterstroke to get us to accuse him It was now, as Sir Austin had written it down, The Magnetic Age It rarely astonishes our ears It illumines our souls It was an honest buss, but dear at ten thousand It was harder to be near and not close It is the best of signs when women take to her It is no insignificant contest when love has to crush self-love It is well to learn manners without having them imposed on us It 's us hard ones that get on best in the world It was in a time before our joyful era of universal equality It is not high flying, which usually ends in heavy falling It goes at the lifting of the bridegroom's little finger It would be hard! ay, then we do it forthwith It was his ill luck to have strong appetites and a weak stomach It is better for us both, of course It was as if she had been eyeing a golden door shut fast It is no use trying to conceal anything from him It was her prayer to heaven that she might save a doctor's bill It's a fool that hopes for peace anywhere