Part 12

He is a man of no worth in the world but compliment

He is not a man fit to be told what one hears

Heard noises over their head upon the leads

Heeling her on one side to make her draw little water

Helping to slip their calfes when there is occasion

Her months upon her is gone to bed

Here I first saw oranges grow

Hired her to procure this poor soul for him

His enemies have done him as much good as he could wish

His readiness to speak spoilt all

His satisfaction is nothing worth, it being easily got

His company ever wearys me

Holes for me to see from my closet into the great office

Hopes to have had a bout with her before she had gone

Houses marked with a red cross upon the doors

How the Presbyterians would be angry if they durst

How highly the Presbyters do talk in the coffeehouses still

How little merit do prevail in the world, but only favour

How little heed is had to the prisoners and sicke and wounded

How unhappily a man may fall into a necessity of bribing people

How natural it is for us to slight people out of power

How little to be presumed of in our greatest undertakings

Hugged, it being cold now in the mornings . . . .

I took occasion to be angry with him

I could not forbear to love her exceedingly

I do not value her, or mind her as I ought

I did what I would, and might have done anything else

I have itched mightily these 6 or 7 days