Please, Sir, I Want Some

For Nature Gives To Every Time And Season Some Beauties Of Its Own; And From Morning To Night, As From The Cradle To The Grave, It Is But A Succession Of Changes So Gentle And Easy That We Can Scarcely Mark Their Progress.

I Don't Remember Who Was There, Except Dora. I Have Not The Least Idea What We Had For Dinner, Besides Dora. My Impression Is, That I Dined Off Dora, Entirely, And Sent Away Half-a-dozen Plates Untouched. I Sat Next To Her. I Talked To Her. She Had The Most Delightful Little Voice, The Gayest Little Laugh, The Pleasantest And Most Fascinating Little Ways, That Ever Led A Lost Youth Into Hopeless Slavery. She Was Rather Diminutive Altogether. So Much The More Precious, I Thought.

It Was The Best Of Times, It Was The Worst Of Times, It Was The Age Of Wisdom, It Was The Age Of Foolishness, It Was The Epoch Of Belief, It Was The Epoch Of Incredulity, It Was The Season Of Light, It Was The Season Of Darkness, It Was The Spring Of Hope, It Was The Winter Of Despair.

It Is Not Possible To Know How Far The Influence Of Any Amiable, Honest-hearted Duty-doing Man Flies Out Into The World, But It Is Very Possible To Know How It Has Touched One's Self In Going By.

Anything That Makes A Noise Is Satisfactory To A Crowd.