Ask No Questions, And You'll Be Told

I Can Never Close My Lips Where I Have Opened My Heart

Remembrance, Like A Candle, Burns Brightest At Christmastime.

The Sun Himself Is Weak When He First Rises, And Gathers Strength And Courage As The Day Gets On.

... 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.

... When The Locked Door Opens, And There Comes In A Young Woman, Deadly Pale, And With Long Fair Hair, Who Glides To The Fire, And Sits Down In The Chair We Have Left There, Wringing Her Hands.