Cows Are My Passion. What I Have

Old Mr. Rarx Was Not A Pleasant Man To Look At, Nor Yet To Talk To, Or To Be With, For No One Could Help Seeing That He Was A Sordid And Selfish Character, And That He Had Warped Further And Further Out Of The Straight With Time.

On Summer Evenings, When Every Flower, And Tree, And Bird, Might Have Better Addressed My Soft Young Heart, I Have In My Day Been Caught In The Palm Of A Female Hand By The Crown, Have Been Violently Scrubbed From The Neck To The Roots Of The Hair As A Purification For The Temple, And Have Then Been Carried Off Highly Charged With Saponaceous Electricity, To Be Steamed Like A Potato In The Unventilated Breath Of The Powerful Boanerges Boiler And His Congregation, Until What Small Mind I Had, Was Quite Steamed Out Of Me

"i Take My Leave Of You, Mr. Creakle, And All Of You," Said Mr. Mell, Glancing Round The Room, And Again Patting Me Gently On The Shoulders. "james Steerforth, The Best Wish I Can Leave You Is That You May Come To Be Ashamed Of What You Have Done Today. At Present I Would Prefer To See You Anything Rather Than A Friend, To Me, Or To Anyone In Whom I Feel An Interest."

What Are The Odds So Long As The Fire Of The Soul Is Kindled At The Taper Of Conviviality, And The Wing Of Friendship Never Molts A Feather?

... I Had A Latent Impression That There Was Something Decidedly Fine In Mr. Wopsle's Elocution - Not For Old Associations' Sake, I Am Afraid, But Because It Was Very Slow, Very Dreary, Very Up-hill And Down-hill, And Very Unlike Any Way In Which Any Man In Any Natural Circumstances Of Life Or Death Ever Expressed Himself About Anything.