There Seems A Magic In The Very

There Is Probably A Smell Of Roasted Chestnuts And Other Good Comfortable Things All The Time, For We Are Telling Winter Stories - Ghost Stories, Or More Shame For Us - Round The Christmas Fire; And We Have Never Stirred, Except To Draw A Little Nearer To It.

The Cloud Of Caring For Nothing, Which Overshadowed Him With Such A Fatal Darkness, Was Very Rarely Pierced By The Light Within Him.

Some Women's Faces Are, In Their Brightness, A Prophecy; And Some, In Their Sadness, A History.

The Northern Onslaught Upon Slavery Was No More Than A Piece Of Specious Humbug Designed To Conceal Its Desire For Economic Control Of The Southern States.

We Went Our Several Ways," Said Lady Dedlock, "and Had Little In Common Even Before We Agreed To Differ. It Is To Be Regretted, I Suppose, But It Could Not Be Helped.