Aesthetic admiration for that old Church Agreed in the large, and differed in the narrow All life seemed suddenly a thing of forms and sham And I don't want to be forgiven At my age one expects no more than one gets! Avoided discussion on matters where he might hurt others Conquests leading to defeats, defeats to conquests Could not as yet disagree with suavity Cunning, the astute, the adaptable, will ever rule in times of peace Daddy's a darling; but I don't always believe what he believes Depressing to think that I would go on living after death Difficult for a good man to see the evil round him Efforts to eliminate instinct Events are the parents of the future Events were the children of the past For we are mad--nothing to speak of, but just a little Forget all about oneself in what one is doing God is the helping of man by man Happiness never comes when you are looking for it I don't believe, and I can't pray I shall hate God for His cruelty I think it's cruel that we can't take what we can while we can If he'd drop the habits of authority If you're not ashamed of yourself, no one will be ashamed of you In opening your hearts you feel that you lose authority It must be dreadful to grow old, and pass the time! Let the dead past bury its dead Life's a huge wide adaptable thing! Man is His pet concern? Marvellous speeder-up of Love is War Men will be just as brutal afterwards--more brutal My mistress, mademoiselle, is not a thing of flesh. It is art Needs must when the devil drives--that's all Oughtn't to mind us taking what we can People do not like you to be different Prayers which come so glibly from unbelievers Revolt against a world so murderous and uncharitable Seemed to know that in silence was her strength She never went to meet life Sheer pride; and I can't subdue it Silence was her strength So absorbed in his dismay and concern, that he was almost happy Speak, or keep silent; try to console; try to pretend? The heart of another is a dark forest The talked-about is always the last to hear the talk The tongue and the pen will rule them Their lovering had advanced by glance and touch alone There's no excitement in what you're used to There's no room on earth for saints in authority Things are; and we have just to take them Too long immune from criticism Too-consciousness that Time was after her Trust our reason and our senses for what they're worth Unself-consciousness Voices had a hard, half-jovial vulgarity Wake at night and hear the howling of all the packs of the world We can only find out for ourselves We can only help ourselves; and I can only bear it if I rebel We can't take things at second-hand any longer We do think we ought to have the run of them while we're alive We love you, but you are not in our secrets We want to own our consciences We want to think and decide things for ourselves What we do is not wrong till it's proved wrong by the result World will go on the same You really think God merciful, sir