Change Begets Change. Nothing Propagates So Fast.

When I Have Heard Him Talking To Papa During The Sittings For The Picture, I Have Sat Wondering Whether It Could Be That He Has No Belief In Anybody Else, Because He Has No Belief In Himself.

The Forces That Affect Our Lives, The Influences That Mold And Shape Us, Are Often Like Whispers In A Different Room, Teasingly Indistinct, Apprehended Only With Difficulty.

"madam," Replied Mr. Micawber, "it Is My Intention To Register Such A Vow On The Virgin Page Of The Future."

Fog Everywhere. Fog Up The River Where It Flows Among Green Airs And Meadows; Fog Down The River, Where It Rolls Defiled Among The Tiers Of Shipping, And The Waterside Pollutions Of A Great (and Dirty) City.... Chance People On The Bridges Peeping Over The Parapets Into A Nether Sky Of Fog, With Fog All Round Them, As If They Were Up In A Balloon And Hanging In The Misty Clouds.

New Thoughts And Hopes Were Whirling Through My Mind, And All The Colours Of My Life Were Changing.