A Boy's Story Is The Best That

It Would Have Been Cruel In Miss Havisham, Horribly Cruel, To Practise On The Susceptibility Of A Poor Boy, And To Torture Me Through All These Years With A Vain Hope And An Idle Pursuit, If She Had Reflected On The Gravity Of What She Did. But I Think She Did Not. I Think That In The Endurance Of Her Own Trial, She Forgot Mine, Estella.

Jarndyce And Jarndyce Drones On. This Scarecrow Of A Suit, Has, In Course Of Time, Become So Complicated That No Man Alive Knows What It Means. The Parties To It Understand It Least; But It Has Been Observed That No Two Chancery Lawyers Can Talk About It For Five Minutes, Without Coming To Total Disagreement As To All The Premises.

He Was Drunk Upon The Average Once A Day, And Penitent Upon An Equally Fair Calculation Once A Month; And When He Was Penitent, He Was Invariably In The Very Last Stage Of Maudlin Intoxication. He Was A Ragged, Roving, Roaring Kind Of Fellow, With A Burly Form, A Sharp Wit, And A Ready Head, And Could Turn His Hand To Anything When He Chose To Do It.

A Merry Christmas To Everybody! A Happy New Year To All The World!

Repression Is The Only Lasting Philosophy. The Dark Deference Of Fear And Slavery, My Friend, Will Keep The Dogs Obedient To The Whip, As Long As This Roof Shuts Out The Sky.