1 I begin to get new lights on certain things which have puzzled me.
2 The snow is falling lightly and there is a strange excitement in the air.
3 There are darknesses in life, and there are lights; you are one of the lights.
4 It was immediately opened by Quincey Morris, beside whom stood Lord Godalming lighting a cigar.
5 The air seems full of specks, floating and circling in the draught from the window, and the lights burn blue and dim.
6 For a good while we sat and smoked, discussing the matter in its various lights and bearings; I took the opportunity of bringing this diary right up to the moment.
7 Be careful with him always that there may be nothing to excite him of this kind for a long time to come; the traces of such an illness as his do not lightly die away.
8 I think that the cylinders which you gave me contained more than you intended me to know; but I can see that there are in your record many lights to this dark mystery.
9 I see the lights scattered all over the town, sometimes in rows where the streets are, and sometimes singly; they run right up the Esk and die away in the curve of the valley.
10 When the sun grew so high this morning that it struck the top of the great gateway opposite my window, the high spot which it touched seemed to me as if the dove from the ark had lighted there.
11 Then he took from his bag the lantern, which he lit, and also two wax candles, which, when lighted, he stuck, by melting their own ends, on other coffins, so that they might give light sufficient to work by.
12 It was a shock to me to turn from the wonderful smoky beauty of a sunset over London, with its lurid lights and inky shadows and all the marvellous tints that come on foul clouds even as on foul water, and to realise all the grim sternness of my own cold stone building, with its wealth of breathing misery, and my own desolate heart to endure it all.