Why, he's eighty!' 'Is he, indeed ?' said the young lady.
'And ecod,' cried Jonas, 'now he's gone so far without giving in, I don't see much to prevent his being ninety; no, nor even a hundred.

Why, a man with any feeling ought to be ashamed of being eighty, let alone more.

Where's his religion, I should like to know, when he goes flying in the face of the Bible like that?
Threescore-and-ten's the mark, and no man with a conscience, and a proper sense of what's expected of him, has any business to live longer.' Is any one surprised at Mr Jonas making such a reference to such a book for such a purpose?
Does any one doubt the old saw, that the Devil (being a layman) quotes Scripture for his own ends?
If he will take the trouble to look about him, he may find a greater number of confirmations of the fact in the occurrences of any single day, than the steam-gun can discharge balls in a minute.
'But there's enough of my father,' said Jonas; 'it's of no use to go putting one's self out of the way by talking about HIM.

I called to ask you to come and take a walk, cousin, and see some of the sights; and to come to our house afterwards, and have a bit of something.

Pecksniff will most likely look in in the evening, he says, and bring you home.
See, here's his writing; I made him put it down this morning when he told me he shouldn't be back before I came here; in case you wouldn't believe me.