'tis Love That Makes The World Go

Veels Vithin Veels, A Prison In A Prison.

I Only Ask To Be Free. The Butterflies Are Free. Mankind Will Surely Not Deny To Harold Skimpole What It Concedes To The Butterflies.

Jarndyce And Jarndyce Drones On. This Scarecrow Of A Suit, Has, In Course Of Time, Become So Complicated That No Man Alive Knows What It Means. The Parties To It Understand It Least; But It Has Been Observed That No Two Chancery Lawyers Can Talk About It For Five Minutes, Without Coming To Total Disagreement As To All The Premises.

I Don't Quite Recollect How Many Tumblers Of Whiskey Toddy Each Man Drank After Supper; But This I Know, That About One O'clock In The Morning, The Baillie's Grown-up Son Became Insensible While Attempting The First Verse Of 'willie Brewed A Peck O' Maut'; And He Having Been, For Half An Hour Before, The Only Other Man Visible Above The Mahogany, It Occurred To My Uncle That It Was Almost Time To Think About Going.

You Touch Some Of The Reasons For My Going, Not For My Staying Away.