The Sight Of Me Is Good For

... 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.

We Spent As Much Money As We Could And Got As Little For It As People Could Make Up Their Minds To Give Us. We Were Always More Or Less Miserable, And Most Of Our Acquaintance Were In The Same Condition. There Was A Gay Fiction Among Us That We Were Constantly Enjoying Ourselves, And A Skeleton Truth That We Never Did. To The Best Of My Belief, Our Case Was In The Last Aspect A Rather Common One.

She Had Curiously Thoughtful And Attentive Eyes; Eyes That Were Very Pretty And Very Good.

Life Is Made Of Ever So Many Partings Welded Together.

I Think The Romans Must Have Aggravated One Another Very Much, With Their Noses. Perhaps, They Became The Restless People They Were, In Consequence.