Yuletide by the fireside, and joyful memories there

[marketsquare]

This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased.

I reread A Christmas Carol on the train from Boston to Atlanta. It's a much weirder book than I remembered, every note crystal clear, yet oddly

Comments

[canonfire]

I would love a Dostoevskyan Christmas Carol. It would, of course, take place twelve days later, in January, a bitter and cold month that scours the Russian steppes.

Merry Christmas!