[she Wasn't] A Logically Reasoning Woman, But

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.

Bring In The Bottled Lightning, A Clean Tumbler, And A Corkscrew.

The New Testament Is The Very Best Book That Ever Was Or Ever Will Be Known In The World.

"some Persons Hold," He Pursued, Still Hesitating, "that There Is A Wisdom Of The Head, And That There Is A Wisdom Of The Heart..."

I Don't Suppose There's A Man Going, As Possesses The Fondness For Youth That I Do. There's Youth To The Amount Of Eight Hundredpound A-year, At Dotheboys Hall At This Present Time. I'd Take Sixteen Hundred Pound Worth, If I Could Get 'em, And Be As Fond Of Every Individual Twenty Pound Among 'em As Nothing Should Equal It!