I could give him that which he needs.

I appreciate him.

I make a bower of peace and enjoyment for him, where his artistic nature finds the repose it craves." "And she pitches into him about you," said Lillie, not slow to perceive the true literal rendering of all this.
"Of course, _ma chere_,--tears him, rends him, lacerates his soul; sometimes he comes to me in the most dreadful states.

Really, dear, I have apprehended something quite awful! I shouldn't in the least be surprised if he should blow his brains out!" And Mrs.Follingsbee sighed deeply, gave a glance at herself in an opposite mirror, and smoothed down a bow pensively, as the prima donna at the grand opera generally does when her lover is getting ready to stab himself.
"Oh! I don't think he's going to kill himself," said Mrs.Lillie, who, it must be understood, was secretly somewhat sceptical about the power of her friend's charms, and looked on this little French romance with the eye of an outsider: "never you believe that, dearest.

These men make dreadful tearings, and shocking eyes and mouths; but they take pretty good care to keep in the world, after all.