I Went Away, Dear Agnes, Loving You.

Then, At The End Of Every Hand, Miss Bolo Would Inquire With A Dismal Countenance And Reproachful Sigh, Why Mr. Pickwick Had Not Returned That Diamond, Or Led The Club, Or Roughed The Spade, Or Finessed The Heart, Or Led Through The Honour, Or Brought Out The Ace, Or Played Up To The King, Or Some Such Thing; And In Reply To All These Grave Charges, Mr. Pickwick Would Be Wholly Unable To Plead Any Justification Whatever, Having By This Time Forgotten All About The Game.

And Can It Be That In A World So Full And Busy The Loss Of One Creature Makes A Void So Wide And Deep That Nothing But The Width And Depth Of Eternity Can Fill It Up!

"mine Ain't A Selfish Affection, You Know," Said Mr. Toots, In The Confidence Engendered By His Having Been A Witness Of The Captain's Tenderness. "it's The Sort Of Thing With Me, Captain Gills, That If I Could Be Run Over - Or - Or Trampled Upon - Or - Or Thrown Off A Very High Place -or Anything Of That Sort - For Miss Dombey's Sake, It Would Be The Most Delightful Thing That Could Happen To Me."

To Conceal Anything From Those To Whom I Am Attached, Is Not In My Nature. I Can Never Close My Lips Where I Have Opened My Heart.

Along The Paris Streets, The Death-carts Rumble, Hollow And Harsh. Six Tumbrils Carry The Day's Wine To La Guillotine.