Good and evil are so close as to be chained together in the soul. - Robert Louis Stevenson

The day returns and brings us the petty round of irritating concerns and duties.
Help us to play the man,
Help us to perform them with laughter and kind faces,
Let cheerfulness abound with industry.
Give us to go blithely on our business all this day,
Bring us to our resting beds weary and content and undishonoured,
And grant us in the end the gift of sleep.

He is not easy to describe. There is something wrong with his appearance; something displeasing, something downright detestable. I never saw a man I so disliked, and yet I scarce know why. He must be deformed somewhere; he gives a strong feeling of deformity, although I couldn’t specify the point. He’s an extraordinary-looking man, and yet I really can name nothing out of the way. No sir; I can make no hand of it; I can’t describe him. And it’s not want of memory; for I declare I can see him this moment.

After all, I reflected, I was like my neighbours; and then I smiled, comparing myself with other men, comparing my active goodwill with the lazy cruelty of their neglect.