'Christmas Eve—old Scrooge sat busy in his counting house.'
"A merry Christmas, Uncle! God save you!"
'Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner Scrooge signed it...'
“it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the Poor and destitute..."
'Scrooge had a very small fire, but the clerk’s fire was so very much smaller that it looked like one coal. But he couldn’t replenish it, for Scrooge kept the coal-box in his own room...'
"Meanwhile, the fog and darkness thickened so..."
'It was the voice of Scrooge’s nephew, who came upon him so quickly that this was the first intimation he had of his approach.'
"...Not a knocker, but Marley’s face."
“Since you ask me what I wish, gentlemen, that is my answer. I don’t make merry myself at Christmas and I can’t afford to make idle people merry (...)If they would rather die,” said Scrooge, “they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population.."
"People ran about with flaring links, proffering their services to go before horse and carriages, and conduct them on their way."
"Marley’s face. It was not in impenetrable shadow as the other objects in the yard were, but had a dismal light about it, like a bad lobster in a dark cellar."