What Is Peace? Is It War? No.

'tis Love That Makes The World Go Round, My Baby.

Heaped On The Floor Were Turkeys, Geese, Game, Poultry, Brawn, Great Joints Of Meat, Sucking Pigs, Long Wreaths Of Sausages, Mince-pies, Plum-puddings, Bartrels Of Oysters, Re-hot Chestnuts, Cherry-cheeked Apples, Juicy Oranges, Luscious Pears, Immense Twelfth-cakes, And Seething Bowls Of Punch That Made The Chamber Dim With Their Delicious Steam.

Although I Am An Old Man, Night Is Generally My Time For Walking.

I Have Been Very Fortunate In Worldly Matters; Many Men Have Worked Much Harder, And Not Succeeded Half So Well; But I Never Could Have Done What I Have Done, Without The Habits Of Punctuality, Order, And Diligence, Without The Determination To Concentrate Myself On One Object At A Time, No Matter How Quickly Its Successor Should Come Upon Its Heels, Which I Then Formed.

The Universe, He Observed, Makes Rather An Indifferent Parent, I Am Afraid.