I Will Live In The Past, The

Heaped On The Floor Were Turkeys, Geese, Game, Poultry, Brawn, Great Joints Of Meat, Sucking Pigs, Long Wreaths Of Sausages, Mince-pies, Plum-puddings, Bartrels Of Oysters, Re-hot Chestnuts, Cherry-cheeked Apples, Juicy Oranges, Luscious Pears, Immense Twelfth-cakes, And Seething Bowls Of Punch That Made The Chamber Dim With Their Delicious Steam.

....that The Mounds Of Ices, And The Bowls Of Mint-julep And Sherry Cobbler They Make In These Latitudes, Are Refreshments Never To Be Thought Of Afterwards, In Summer, By Those Who Would Preserve Contented Minds.

It Was A Harder Day's Journey Than Yesterday's, For There Were Long And Weary Hills To Climb; And In Journeys, As In Life, It Is A Great Deal Easier To Go Down Hill Than Up. However, They Kept On, With Unabated Perseverance, And The Hill Has Not Yet Lifted Its Face To Heaven That Perseverance Will Not Gain The Summit Of At Last.

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.

It Was The Best Of Times, It Was The Worst Of Times.