ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS FOR THE ENTIRE LORD ORMONT AND HIS AMINTA
A bird that won’t roast or boil or stew A woman, and would therefore listen to nonsense A free-thinker startles him as a kind of demon A female free-thinker is one of Satan’s concubines Acting is not of the high class which conceals the art Affected misapprehensions
Ah! we fall into their fictions
All that Matey and Browny were forbidden to write they looked And not be beaten by an acknowledged defeat Any excess pushes to craziness
As well ask (women) how a battle-field concerns them! Bad luck’s not repeated every day Keep heart for the good Bad laws are best broken
Began the game of Pull
Being in heart and mind the brother to the sister with women Botched mendings will only make them worse Bounds of his intelligence closed their four walls Boys who can appreciate brave deeds are capable of doing them Boys, of course–but men, too!
But had sunk to climb on a firmer footing By nature incapable of asking pardon
Cajoled like a twenty-year-old yahoo at college Careful not to smell of his office
Challenged him to lead up to her desired stormy scene Chose to conceive that he thought abstractedly Consciousness of some guilt when vowing itself innocent Consign discussion to silence with the cynical closure Convictions we store–wherewith to shape our destinies Convincing themselves that they impersonate sagacity Could not understand enthusiasm for the schoolmaster’s career Could we–we might be friends
Curious thing would be if curious things should fail to happen Death is only the other side of the ditch Death is always next door
Desire of it destroyed it
Detestable feminine storms enveloping men weak enough Didn’t say a word No use in talking about feelings Distaste for all exercise once pleasurable Divided lovers in presence
Enthusiasm struck and tightened the loose chord of scepticism Enthusiast, when not lyrical, is perilously near to boring Exult in imagination of an escape up to the moment of capture Few men can forbear to tell a spicy story of their friends Greatest of men; who have to learn from the loss of the woman Having contracted the fatal habit of irony He had to shake up wrath over his grievances He had gone, and the day lived again for both of them He gave a slight sign of restiveness, and was allowed to go He loathed a skulker
He took small account of the operations of the feelings He began ambitiously–It’s the way at the beginning Her vehement fighting against facts
Her duel with Time
His aim to win the woman acknowledged no obstacle in the means His restored sense of possession
Hopeless task of defending a woman from a woman How to compromise the matter for the sake of peace? I have all the luxuries–enough to loathe them I hate old age It changes you so
I could be in love with her cruelty, if only I had her near me I look on the back of life
I want no more, except to be taught to work I married a cook She expects a big appetite I’m for a rational Deity
If the world is hostile we are not to blame it Ignorance roaring behind a mask of sarcasm Increase of dissatisfaction with the more she got Lawyers hold the keys of the great world Learn–principally not to be afraid of ideas Loathing of artifice to raise emotion
Look well behind
Lucky accidents are anticipated only by fools Magnify an offence in the ratio of our vanity Man who helps me to read the world and men as they are Meant to vanquish her with the dominating patience Men bore the blame, though the women were rightly punished Men who believe that there is a virtue in imprecations Naked original ideas, are acceptable at no time Napoleon’s treatment of women is excellent example Necessity’s offspring
Never nurse an injury, great or small Nevertheless, inclinations are an infidelity No love can be without jealousy
Not daring risk of office by offending the taxpayer Not the indignant and the frozen, but the genially indifferent Not men of brains, but the men of aptitudes Old age is a prison wall between us and young people One has to feel strong in a delicate position One night, and her character’s gone
One is a fish to her hook; another a moth to her light Orderliness, from which men are privately exempt Our love and labour are constantly on trial Passion added to a bowl of reason makes a sophist’s mess People were virtuous in past days: they counted their sinners Perhaps inspire him, if he would let her breathe Person in another world beyond this world of blood Policy seems to petrify their minds
Practical for having an addiction to the palpable Professional Puritans
Published Memoirs indicate the end of a man’s activity Rage of a conceited schemer tricked
Regularity of the grin of dentistry Respect one another’s affectations
Screams of an uninjured lady
Selfishness and icy inaccessibility to emotion She had to be the hypocrite or else–leap She had a thirsting mind
Silence was doing the work of a scourge Smile she had in reserve for serviceable persons Snatch her from a possessor who forfeited by undervaluing her So says the minute Years are before you
That pit of one of their dead silences The despot is alert at every issue, to every chance The spending, never harvesting, world
The shots hit us behind you
The terrible aggregate social woman The next ten minutes will decide our destinies The woman side of him
The good life gone lives on in the mind The beat of a heart with a dread like a shot in it There is no history of events below the surface There are women who go through life not knowing love They want you to show them what they ‘d like the world to be Things are not equal
Things were lumpish and gloomy that day of the week This female talk of the eternities
Titles showered on the women who take free breath of air To males, all ideas are female until they are made facts To time and a wife it is no disgrace for a man to bend To know how to take a licking, that wins in the end Uncommon unprogressiveness
Venus of nature was melting into a Venus of art Violent summons to accept, which is a provocation to deny We cannot, men or woman, control the heart in sleep at night We shall want a war to teach the country the value of courage We don’t go together into a garden of roses When duelling flourished on our land, frail women powerful Where heart weds mind, or nature joins intellect Who cries, Come on, and prays his gods you won’t Why he enjoyed the privilege of seeing, and was not beside her With what little wisdom the world is governed Women are happier enslaved
World against us It will not keep us from trying to serve Years are the teachers of the great rocky natures You’ll have to guess at half of everything he tells you You’re going to be men, meaning something better than women
[The End]
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