He wos wery good to me, he wos! - Charles Dickens

You talk very easily of hours, sir! How long do you suppose, sir, that an hour is to a man who is choking for want of air?

"You are fettered," said Scrooge, trembling. "Tell me why?"
"I wear the chain I forged in life," replied the Ghost. "I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it."

I want to escape from myself. For when I do start up and stare myself seedily in the face, as happens to be my case at present, my blankness is inconceivable — indescribable — my misery amazing.