There Might Be Some Credit In Being

But The Sun Itself, However Beneficent, Generally, Was Less Kind To Coketown Than Hard Frost, And Rarely Looked Intently Into Any Of Its Closer Regions Without Engendering More Death Than Life. So Does The Eye Of Heaven Itself Become An Evil Eye, When Incapable Or Sordid Hands Are Interposed Between It And The Thing It Looks Upon To Bless.

If Its Individual Citizens, To A Man, Are To Be Believed, It Always Is Depressed, And Always Is Stagnated, And Always Is At An Alarming Crisis, And Never Was Otherwise; Though As A Body, They Are Ready To Make Oath Upon The Evangelists, At Any Hour Of The Day Or Night, That It Is The Most Thriving And Prosperous Of All Countries On The Habitable Globe.

Change Begets Change. Nothing Propagates So Fast.

Eccentricities Of Genius.

For A Long Time, No Village Girl Would Dress Her Hair Or Bosom With The Sweetest Flower From That Field Of Death: And After Many A Year Had Come And Gone, The Berries Growing There, Were Still Believed To Leave Too Deep A Stain Upon The Hand That Plucked Them.