Live and let live." "I don't care about his taste," said the Major impatiently.

"What sort of man is he ?--man, Claude ?" "Ahem, humph! 'Irritabile genus poetarum.' But one is so accustomed to that among literary men, one never expects them to be like anybody else, and so takes their whims and oddities for granted." "And their sins too, eh ?" "Sins?
I know of none on his part." "Don't you call temper a sin ?" "No; I call it a determination of blood to the head, or of animal spirits to the wrong place, or--my dear Major, I am no moralist.

I take people, you know, as I find them.

But he is a bore; and I should not wonder if that sweet little woman had found it out ere now." Campbell ground something between his teeth.

He fancied himself full of righteous wrath: he was really in a very unchristian temper.