She's the sort of woman now,' said Mould, . . . 'one would almost feel disposed to bury for nothing: and do it neatly, too!

Nothing that we do, is done in vain. I believe, with all my soul, that we shall see triumph.

Marley was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it. And Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.

You can only form the minds of reasoning animals upon Facts: nothing else will ever be of any service to them. Stick to Facts, sir!

Moths, and all sorts of ugly creatures, hover about a lighted candle. Can the candle help it?

I love your daughter fondly, dearly, disinterestedly, devotedly. If ever there were love in the world, I love her.

We part with tender relations stretching far behind us, that never can be exactly renewed, and with others dawning - yet before us.