Remember, To The Last, That While There

It's Not My Business," Scrooge Returned. "it's Enough For A Man To Understand His Own Business, And Not To Interfere With Other People's. Mine Occupies Me Constantly.

"why, I Don't Exactly Know About Perjury, My Dear Sir," Replied The Little Gentleman. "harsh Word, My Dear Sir, Very Harsh Word Indeed. It's A Legal Fiction, My Dear Sir, Nothing More."

Go Ye, Who Rest So Placidly Upon The Sacred Bard Who Had Been Young, And When He Strung His Harp Was Old, And Had Never Seen The Righteous Forsaken, Or His Seed Begging Their Bread; Go, Teachers Of Content And Honest Pride, Into The Mine, The Mill, The Forge, The Squalid Depths Of Deepest Ignorance, And Uttermost Abyss Of Man's Neglect, And Say Can Any Hopeful Plant Spring Up In Air So Foul That It Extinguishes The Soul's Bright Torch As Fast As It Is Kindled!

Home Is A Name, A Word, It Is A Strong One; Stronger Than Magician Ever Spoke, Or Spirit Ever Answered To, In The Strongest Conjuration.

It's In Vain To Recall The Past, Unless It Works Some Influence Upon The Present.