My Life Is One Demd Horrid Grind.

....that The Mounds Of Ices, And The Bowls Of Mint-julep And Sherry Cobbler They Make In These Latitudes, Are Refreshments Never To Be Thought Of Afterwards, In Summer, By Those Who Would Preserve Contented Minds.

The Men Who Learn Endurance, Are They Who Call The Whole World, Brother.

Of All The Ruinous And Desolate Places My Uncle Had Ever Beheld, This Was The Most So. It Looked As If It Had Once Been A Large House Of Entertainment; But The Roof Had Fallen In, In Many Places, And The Stairs Were Steep, Rugged, And Broken. There Was A Huge Fire-place In The Room Into Which They Walked, And The Chimney Was Blackened With Smoke; But No Warm Blaze Lighted It Up Now. The White Feathery Dust Of Burnt Wood Was Still Strewed Over The Hearth, But The Stove Was Cold, And All Was Dark And Gloomy.

The Cloud Of Caring For Nothing, Which Overshadowed Him With Such A Fatal Darkness, Was Very Rarely Pierced By The Light Within Him.

There Was A Piece Of Ornamental Water Immediately Below The Parapet, On The Other Side, Into Which Mr. James Harthouse Had A Very Strong Inclination To Pitch Mr. Thomas Gradgrind Junior.