Everlasting farewells! and again, and yet again reverberated-everlasting farewells!

It was a Sunday afternoon, wet and cheerless; and a duller spectacle this earth of ours has not to show than a rainy Sunday in London.

Tea, though ridiculed by those who are naturally coarse in their nervous sensibilities ... will always be the favourite beverage of the intellectual.

Thou hast the keys of Paradise, oh just, subtle, and mighty opium!

And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls, Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.

The child is not mine as the first was, I cannot sing it to rest, I cannot lift it up fatherly And bliss it upon my breast; Yet it lies in my little one's crad…

Goodnight Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are. I hope so