A Man Must Take The Fat With

My Dear If You Could Give Me A Cup Of Tea To Clear My Muddle Of A Head I Should Better Understand Your Affairs.

When Death Strikes Down The Innocent And Young, For Every Fragile Form From Which He Lets The Panting Spirit Free, A Hundred Virtues Rise, In Shapes Of Mercy, Charity, And Love, To Walk The World And Bless It. Of Every Tear That Sorrowing Mortals Shed On Such Green Graves, Some Good Is Born, Some Gentler Nature Comes.

Christmas Is A Time In Which, Of All Times In The Year, The Memory Of Every Remediable Sorrow, Wrong, And Trouble In The World Around Us, Should Be Active With Us, Not Less Than Our Own Experiences, For All Good.

I Looked At The Stars, And Considered How Awful It Would Be For A Man To Turn His Face Up To Them As He Froze To Death, And See No Help Or Pity In All The Glittering Multitude.

You Speak So Feelingly And So Manfully, Charles Darnay