Absurd to promise to love
     Acceptance of authority is not faith, it is mere credulity
     Always getting glimpses of things when it is too late
     Antipathy to forms
     Bad music, she said, offended her
     Can’t believe in the doctrine of the virgin birth
     Clothes of one man are binding on another
     Conviction that all things were as they ought to be
     Deification of beauty to the exclusion of all else
     Economic slavery
     Elaborate attention little men are apt to bestow upon women
     Even after all these ages, the belief, the hope would not down
     Faith may be likened to an egg
     Foolish sacrifices are worse than useless
     For ye make clean the outside of the cup and of the platter
     Futility of the traditional words of comfort
     Genius, analyzed, is often disappointing
     God himself would have divorced us
     Had a habit of not waiting for answers to her questions
     Happiness of gratitude and wonder, too wise to exult
     He was what is known as a “success”—­always that magic word
     Hell’s here—­isn’t it? 
     How to be silent with a clamouring heart
     I see no one upon whom I can rely but myself
     I hate humility
     I’m always searching for things to do
     If Christians were logical, they should be Socialists
     Immortality as orthodox Christianity depicts it
     Impulse had brought him thus far
     Indiscriminate, unreasoning self-sacrifice
     Individualism with which the Church can have no sympathy
     Intellectually lazy
     Know a great deal and don’t believe anything
     Knowledge puts faith out of the question
     Logical result of independent thinking is anarchy
     “Love,” she added, “plays such havoc with one’s opinions”
     Luxuries formerly unthought of seemed to become necessities
     Material proof, it seems to me, is a denial of faith
     Mistaking the effect for the cause
     Mixture of awkwardness and straightforwardness
     Not given to trite acquiescence
     Olmah which Isaiah uses does not mean virgin
     Only one regret as to what you said—­that it is true
     Pleasure?  Yes.  It makes me feel as if I were of some use
     Religion, I think, should be everybody’s (profession)
     Rule which you so confidently apply to fit all cases
     Scandalously forced through the council of Nicaea
     Seeking a forgiveness out of all proportion to the trespass
     St Paul, you say, put us in our proper place
     Success—­which was really failure
     Sunday was then a day essentially different from other days
     The law cannot fit all cases
     The weak always sink
     The hours of greatest suffering are the empty hours
     Thinking isn’t—­believing
     Vagueness generally attributed to her sex
     Vividly unreal, as a