He was the maddest of tyrants--a weak one He had to go, he must, he has to be always going He never calculated on the happening of mortal accidents He had expected romance, and had met merchandize He condensed a paragraph into a line He lost the art of observing himself He had neat phrases, opinions in packets He's good from end to end, and beats a Christian hollow (a hog) Hear victorious lawlessness appealing solemnly to God the law Heart to keep guard and bury the bones you tossed him Heartily she thanked the girl for the excuse to cry Hearts that make one soul do not separately count their gifts Heathen vindictiveness declaring itself holy Heights of humour beyond laughter Her intimacy with a man old enough to be her grandfather Her vehement fighting against facts Her peculiar tenacity of the sense of injury Her feelings--trustier guides than her judgement in this crisis Her final impression likened him to a house locked up and empty Her aspect suggested the repose of a winter landscape Her singing struck a note of grateful remembered delight Her duel with Time Here, where he both wished and wished not to be Here and there a plain good soul to whom he was affectionate 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 aim to win the woman acknowledged no obstacle in the means His idea of marriage is, the taking of the woman into custody His gaze and one of his ears, if not the pair, were given His ridiculous equanimity His alien ideas were not unimpressed by the picture His restored sense of possession His wife alone, had, as they termed it, kept him together His equanimity was fictitious His fancy performed miraculous feats His violent earnestness, his imperial self-confidence His apparent cynicism is sheer irritability Holding to the refusal, for the sake of consistency Holding to his work after the strain's over--That tells the man 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 angry I should be with you if you were not so beautiful! How Success derides Ambition! How many degrees from love gratitude may be How immensely nature seems to prefer men to women! How little a thing serves Fortune's turn How to compromise the matter for the sake of peace? How many instruments cannot clever women play upon How little we mean to do harm when we do an injury Hug the hatred they packed up among their bundles