“Always the way!" muttered the Jew to himself as he turned homewards. "The worst of these women is, that a very little thing serves to call up some long-forgotten feeling; and the best of them is, that it never lasts. Ha! ha!”

“It's very soon done, sir, isn't it?' inquired Mr. Folair of the collector, leaning over the table to address him.What is soon done, sir?' returned Mr. Lillyvick.The tying up, the fixing oneself with a wife,' replied Mr. Folair. 'It don't take long, does it?'No, sir,' replied Mr. Lillyvick, colouring. 'It does not take long. And what then, sir?'Oh! nothing,' said the actor. 'It don't take a man long to hang himself, either, eh? Ha, ha!”

“Not knowing how he lost himself, or how he recovered himself, he may never feel certain of not losing himself again.”

“Do the wise thing and the kind thing too, and make the best of us and not the worst.”

“things cannot be expected to turn up of themselves. We must in a measure assist to turn them up”

“The pony preserved his character for independence and principle down to the last moment of his life; which was an unusually long one, and caused him to be looked upon, indeed, as the very Old Parr of ponies. He often went to and fro with the little phaeton between Mr. Garland's and his son's, and, as the old people and the young were frequently together, had a stable of his own at the new establishment, into which he would walk of himself with surprising dignity. He condescended to play with the children, as they grew old enough to cultivate his friendship, and would run up and down the little paddock with them like a dog; but though he relaxed so far, and allowed them such freedoms as caresses, or even to look at his shoes or hang on by his tail, he never permitted anyone among them to mount his back or drive him; thus showing that even their familiarity must have its limits, and that there were points between them far too serious for trifling. He was not unsusceptible of warm attachments in his later life, for when the good Bachelor came to live with Mr. Garland upon the clergyman's decease, he conceived a great friendship for him, and amiably submitted to be driven by his hands without the least resistance. He did no work for two or three years before he died, but lived on clover; and his last act (like a choleric old gentleman) was to kick his doctor.”

“Every man's his own friend, my dear," replied Fagin, with his most insinuating grin. "He hasn't as good a one as himself anywhere."Except sometimes," replied Morris Bolter, assuming the air of a man of the world. "Some people are nobody's enemies but their own, yer know."Don't believe that!" said the Jew. "When a man's his own enemy, it's only because he's too much his own friend; not because he's careful for everybody but himself. Pooh! Pooh! There ain't such a thing in nature.”