Every Failure Teaches A Man Something, If

And Could I Look Upon Her Without Compassion, Seeing Her Punishment In The Ruin She Was, In Her Profound Unfitness For This Earth On Which She Was Placed, In The Vanity Of Sorrow Which Had Become A Master Mania, Like The Vanity Of Penitence, The Vanity Of Remorse, The Vanity Of Unworthiness, And Other Monstrous Vanities That Have Been Curses In This World?

All Partings Foreshadow The Great Final One.

You Anticipate What I Would Say, Though You Cannot Know How Earnestly I Say It, How Earnestly I Feel It, Without Knowing My Secret Heart, And The Hopes And Fears And Anxieties With Which It Has Long Been Laden. Dear Doctor Manette, I Love Your Daughter Fondly, Dearly, Disinterestedly, Devotedly. If Ever There Were Love In The World, I Love Her.

At Last, In The Dead Of The Night, When The Street Was Very Still Indeed, Little Dorrit Laid The Heavy Head Upon Her Bosom, And Soothed Her To Sleep. And Thus She Sat At The Gate, As It Were Alone; Looking Up At The Stars, And Seeing The Clouds Pass Over Them In Their Wild Flight-which Was The Dance At Little Dorrit's Party.

There Is Something In Sickness That Breaks Down The Pride Of Manhood.