“Mr. Creakle, at whom of course I looked, shook his head without looking at me, and stopped up a sigh with a very large piece of buttered toast.
‘You are too young to know how the world changes every day,’ said Mrs. Creakle, ‘and how the people in it pass away. But we all have to learn it, David; some of us when we are young, some of us when we are old, some of us at all times of our lives.’
I looked at her earnestly.
‘When you came away from home at the end of the vacation,’ said Mrs. Creakle, after a pause, ‘were they all well?’ After another pause, ‘Was your mama well?’
I trembled without distinctly knowing why, and still looked at her earnestly, making no attempt to answer.
‘Because,’ said she, ‘I grieve to tell you that I hear this morning your mama is very ill.’
A mist rose between Mrs. Creakle and me, and her figure seemed to move in it for an instant. Then
I felt the burning tears run down my face, and it was steady again.
‘She is very dangerously ill,’ she added.
I knew all now.
‘She is dead.’
There was no need to tell me so. I had already broken out into a desolate cry, and felt an orphan in the wide world.”
The second example is just funny, but it makes us love Copperfield, and feel some kinship with him. He’s not the most handsome or wealthy or able person in the novel, he’s regular, like us, and full of flaws, and how nice it is to be able to laugh with him at our weaknesses! Here he is, drunk…
“Somebody was leaning out of my bedroom window, refreshing his forehead against the cool stone of the parapet, and feeling the air upon his face. It was myself. I was addressing myself as ‘Copperfield’, and saying, ‘Why did you try to smoke? You might have known you couldn’t do it.’ Now, somebody was unsteadily contemplating his features in the looking-glass. That was I too. I was very pale in the looking-glass; my eyes had a vacant appearance; and my hair – only my hair, nothing else – looked drunk.
Owing to some confusion in the dark, the door was gone. I was feeling for it in the window-curtains, when Steerforth, laughing, took me by the arm and led me out. We went downstairs, one behind another. Near the bottom, somebody fell, and rolled down. Somebody else said it was Copperfield. I was angry at that false report, until, finding myself on my back in the passage, I began to think there might be some foundation for it.”
I love that! And I love these cookies!! They were inspired by a recipe I happened upon for Halwa in an Indian cookbook. The combination of pistachios, almonds and cardamom sounded so perfect, that I decided, this being Christmas cookie season, to combine these elements in a sort of shortbread or butter cookie. The recipe is very simple and easy, and very adaptable, as well. You could roll these cookies out and cut them into shapes, or chill them as a log and cut them off as refrigerator cookies, or spread them in a pan and cut them after baking, like shortbread. I chose to roll them into little balls and then flatten them by hand.