Scrooge was his sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole assign, his sole residuary
“Oh but he was a tight fisted hand at the grindstone
A squeezing wrenching grasping scraping clutching covetous old sinner
Hard and sharp as flint
Solitary as an oyster
He carried his own low temperature always
No warmth could warm, no wintry weather chill him, no wind that blew was bitterer than he
It was cold bleak biting weather
The fog came pouring in at every chink and keyhole
But the clerks fire was so very much smaller
Fred: He was all in a glow; his face was ruddy and handsome; his eyes sparkled and his breath smoked again
What reason have you to be merry?
you’re poor enough
What’s Christmas time to you, but a time for paying bills and finding yourself a year older and not a penny richer
Every idiot who goes about with merry Christmas on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding and buried with a stake of holly through his heart
Fred: Men and women by one consent seem to open their shut up hearts feely, and to think of people below them as if they were fellow passengers to the grave
Many thousands are in want of common necessities; hundreds of thousands are in want of common comforts sir
The treadmill and the poor law are in full vigour then?
… useful course
I can’t afford to make idle people merry
Meanwhile the fog and darkness thickened
The ancient tower of a church whose gruff old bell was always peeping slyly down at Scrooge
Foggier yet and colder. Piecing, searching, biting cold
Darkness is cheap and Scrooge liked it
Cashboxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers, deeds and heavy purses wrought in steel
The chain he drew was clasped around his middle. It was long and wound him like a tail
I wear the chain I forged in life
Marley: incessant torture of remorse
Mankind was my business, the common welfare was my business, charity, mercy, forbearance and benevolence were all my business. The dealings of my trade were nothing but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business
From the crown of its head there sprung a bright clear jet of light
He was conscious of a thousand of ours floating in the air, each one connected with a thousand thoughts and hopes and joys and cares long, long, forgotten
Fezziwig: organ of benevolence; and called out in a comfortable, oily, rich, fat , jovial voice
Fezziwig’s party: and there was a great piece of cold boiled, and there were mince pies, and plenty of beer
A positive light appeared from Fezziwig’s calves. They shone in every part of the dance like moons
His heart and soul were in the scene, and with his former self. He corroborated everything, remembered everything, and underwent the strangest agitation
The happiness he gives is quite as great as if it cost a fortune
No i should like to be able to say a word or two to my clerk just now that’s all
But it had begun to wear the signs of greed and avarice. There was an eager, greedy, restless motion in the eye
Another idol has displaced me…. a golden one
Might have called him father, and been a spring-time in the haggard winter of his life, his sight grew very dim indeed
Belle: I have seen your nobler aspirations fall off one by one… gain engrosses you
Ghost of Christmas present: Heaped up to the floor, to form a kind of throne, were turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn, great joints of meat