Charles Dickens

Home had never been a very pleasant place to me,

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wis- dom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way—in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities in- sisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wis- dom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way—in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities in- sisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

The sky was gloomy, and the shortest streets were choked up with a dingy mist, half thawed, half frozen, whose heavier particles descended in a shower of sooty atoms, as if all the chimneys in Great Britain had, by one consent, caught fire, and were blazing away to their dear heart’s content.

squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner

Old Marley was as dead as a doornail.

No beggars implored him to bestow a trifle,

To see the dingy cloud come drooping down, obscuring everything,

That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me.

But it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck out of it, and think how different its course would have been.

Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day.

How can I say, when I never knew?