Nature Gives To Every Time And Season

Pride Is One Of The Seven Deadly Sins; But It Cannot Be The Pride Of A Mother In Her Children, For That Is A Compound Of Two Cardinal Virtues - Faith And Hope.

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.

I Was So Humiliated, Hurt, Spurned, Offended, Angry, Sorry--i Cannot Hit Upon The Right Name For The Smart--god Knows What Its Name Was--that Tears Started To My Eyes.

I Distress You; I Draw Fast To An End.

I Believe No Satirist Could Breathe This Air. If Another Juvenal Or Swift Could Rise Up Among Us Tomorrow, He Would Be Hunted Down. If You Have Any Knowledge Of Our Literature, And Can Give Me The Name Of Any Man, American Born And Bred, Who Has Anatomised Our Follies As A People, And Not As This Or That Party; And Who Has Escaped The Foulest And Most Brutal Slander, The Most Inveterate Hatred And Intolerant Pursuit; It Will Be A Strange Name In My Ears, Believe Me.