Nicholas Nickleby

Gold conjures up a mist about a man, more destructive of all his old senses and lulling to his feelings than the fumes of charcoal.

The pain of parting is nothing to the joy of meeting again. Kate will be a beautiful woman, and I so proud to hear them say so, and mother so happy to be with us once again, and all these sad times forgotten.

He had but one eye, and the popular prejudice runs in favor of two.

Subdue your appetites, my dears, and you've conquered human nature.