... As To Sleep, You Know, I

What Are The Odds So Long As The Fire Of The Soul Is Kindled At The Taper Of Conviviality, And The Wing Of Friendship Never Molts A Feather?

Possibly We Might Even Improve The World A Little, If We Got Up Early In The Morning, And Took Off Our Coats To The Work.

Some Philosophers Tell Us That Selfishness Is At The Root Of Our Best Loves And Affections. Mr. Dombey's Young Child Was, From The Beginning, So Distinctly Important To Him As A Part Of His Own Greatness, Or (which Is The Same Thing) Of The Greatness Of Dombey And Son, That There Is No Doubt His Parental Affection Might Have Been Easily Traced, Like Many A Goodly Superstructure Of Fair Fame, To A Very Low Foundation.

A Word In Earnest Is As Good As A Speech.

After Tea, We Discussed A Variety Of Topics Before The Fire; And Mrs. Micawber Was Good Enough To Sing Us (in A Small, Thin, Flat Voice, Which I Remembered To Have Considered, When I First Knew Her, The Very Table-beer Of Acoustics) The Favourite Ballads Of "the Dashing White Sergeant", And "little Tafflin".