"Abandon all hope, ye who enter..." -Welcome sign above the City of Dis. "Kaos is my son."- Ravager

A while ago I started Anna Karenina and I loved her from the first page I met her. I'm on page 690 or so, during her mental fit of trying to destroy her position with Vronsky. Now, I'm as repulsed of her as she believes Vronsky is of her- she holds him accountable for things he's never said, but what she imagines he could say. She's totally irrational and so ego driven that she can't understand what she's doing.

Meanwhile, Levin, the other pillar character has become what I've always feared- once independent, now a family man that feels only disgust and compassion for his mewling baby boy, but at least he still loves his wife. Ah, what literary characters can do for the mind.

'Tis the night of Christmas, and all through the house, a kitty is sleeping, like a little mouse.
He's laying before the window, his heavy belly heaving, with every breath as if he were leaving.
With a snort and a snarf, his breath stinks like fish, but all eyes turn thoughtful when he's at his dish.
This kitty is surely as big as a house, let alone could he catch a slow mouse.
So with holiday glee and terrible mischief, I've tied a ribbon round his neck like a handkerchief.
Mewling and mad, he wanders the house, looking for something to destroy, except for the mouse.