You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are!

“Now you see, Tom," said Mr. Harthouse (...); "every man is selfish in everythin…”

“So, throughout life, our worst weaknesses and meannesses are usually committed …”

“Your memory does me more honour than my insignificance deserves.”

“The very stars to which I then raised my eyes, I am afraid I took to be but poo…”