The Uncommon Scholar

i wish you hadn't taught me to call knaves at cards jacks. And i wish my boots weren't so thick, nor my hands so coarse. Then i told joe that i felt very miserable, and that i hadn't been able to explain myself to missus, joe and pumblechook who were so rude to me. There's one thing you may be sure of, pip. Howsoever they come, they didn't ought to come. And they come from the father of lies, and work round to the same. That ain't the way to get out of being common, old chap. You are uncommon. In some things, you're uncommon small.

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