Background Image

...

A Silent Look Of Affection And Regard When All Other Eyes Are Turned Coldly Away-the Consciousness That We Possess The Sympathy And Affection Of One Being When All Others Have Deserted Us-is A Hold, A Stay, A Comfort, In The Deepest Affliction, Which No Wealth Could Purchase, Or Power Bestow.

-Charles Dickens

...

Please Wait....
Translating....

A Silent Look Of

Charles Dickens

...

A Silent Look Of Affection And Regard When All Other Eyes Are Turned Coldly Away-the Consciousness That We Possess The Sympathy And Affection Of One Being When All Others Have Deserted Us-is A Hold, A Stay, A Comfort, In The Deepest Affliction, Which No Wealth Could Purchase, Or Power Bestow.

Views: 7

Topic

More From Charles Dickens

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. And Scrooge's Name Was Good Upon 'change For Anything He Chose To Put His Hand To. Old Marley Was As Dead As A Door-nail.

He Wore A Sprinkling Of Powder Upon His Head, As If To Make Himself Look Benevolent; But If That Were His Purpose, He Would Perhaps Have Done Better To Powder His Countenance Also, For There Was Something In Its Very Wrinkles, And In His Cold Restless Eye, Which Seemed To Tell Of Cunning That Would Announce Itself In Spite Of Him.

‎and Yet I Have Had The Weakness, And Have Still The Weakness, To Wish You To Know With What A Sudden Mastery You Kindled Me, Heap Of Ashes That I Am, Into Fire.

The Heavy Rain Beat Down The Tender Branches Of Vine And Jessamine, And Trampled On Them In Its Fury; And When The Lightning Gleamed, It Showed The Tearful Leaves Shivering And Cowering Together At The Window, And Tapping At It Urgently, As If Beseeching To Be Sheltered From The Dismal Night.

The Coffee Was Boiling Over A Charcoal Fire, And Large Slices Of Bread And Butter Were Piled One Upon The Other Like Deals In A Lumber Yard.

Lawyers Hold That There Are Two Kinds Of Particularly Bad Witnesses--a Reluctant Witness, And A Too-willing Witness.

I Am What You Designed Me To Be.i Am Your Blade. You Cannot Now Complain If You Also Feel The Hurt

Anything That Makes A Noise Is Satisfactory To A Crowd.

Words Of Wisdom

The Worst Class Of Sum Worked In The Every-day World Is Cyphered By The Diseased Arithmeticians Who Are Always In The Rule Of Subtraction As To The Merits And Successes Of Others, And Never In Addition As To Their Own.

Words Of Wisdom

I Hope That Real Love And Truth Are Stronger In The End Than Any Evil Or Misfortune In The World.

There Is Prodigious Strength In Sorrow And Despair.

I Must Do Something Or I Shall Wear My Heart Away.

If They Would Rather Die, . . . They Had Better Do It, And Decrease The Surplus Population.

Christmas Carol

A Loving Heart Is The Truest Wisdom.

All Other Swindlers Upon Earth Are Nothing To The Self-swindlers, And With Such Pretences Did I Cheat Myself. Surely A Curious Thing. That I Should Innocently Take A Bad Half-crown Of Somebody Else's Manufacture, Is Reasonable Enough; But That I Should Knowingly Reckon The Spurious Coin Of My Own Make, As Good Money!

Words Of Wisdom

It Was Darkly Rumoured That The Butler, Regarding Him With Favour Such As That Stern Man Had Never Shown Before To Mortal Boy, Had Sometimes Mingled Porter With His Table Beer To Make Him Strong.

Notwithstanding His Very Liberal Laudation Of Himself, However, The Major Was Selfish. It May Be Doubted Whether There Ever Was A More Entirely Selfish Person At Heart; Or At Stomach Is Perhaps A Better Expression, Seeing That He Was More Decidedly Endowed With That Latter Organ Than With The Former.

My Dear Young Lady, Crime, Like Death, Is Not Confined To The Old And Withered Alone. The Youngest And Fairest Are Too Often Its Chosen Victims.

... I Had A Latent Impression That There Was Something Decidedly Fine In Mr. Wopsle's Elocution - Not For Old Associations' Sake, I Am Afraid, But Because It Was Very Slow, Very Dreary, Very Up-hill And Down-hill, And Very Unlike Any Way In Which Any Man In Any Natural Circumstances Of Life Or Death Ever Expressed Himself About Anything.

Heaped On The Floor Were Turkeys, Geese, Game, Poultry, Brawn, Great Joints Of Meat, Sucking Pigs, Long Wreaths Of Sausages, Mince-pies, Plum-puddings, Bartrels Of Oysters, Re-hot Chestnuts, Cherry-cheeked Apples, Juicy Oranges, Luscious Pears, Immense Twelfth-cakes, And Seething Bowls Of Punch That Made The Chamber Dim With Their Delicious Steam.

... Treachery Don't Come Natural To Beaming Youth; But Trust And Pity, Love And Constancy,-they Do, Thank God!

Words Of Wisdom

I Am No More Annoyed When I Think Of The Expression, Than I Should Be Annoyed By A Man's Opinion Of A Picture Of Mine, Who Had No Eye For Pictures; Or Of A Piece Of Music Of Mine, Who Had No Ear For Music.

A Boy's Story Is The Best That Is Ever Told.

Not Knowing How He Lost Himself, Or How He Recovered Himself, He May Never Feel Certain Of Not Losing Himself Again.

It's Not My Business," Scrooge Returned. "it's Enough For A Man To Understand His Own Business, And Not To Interfere With Other People's. Mine Occupies Me Constantly.

For Who Can Wonder That Man Should Feel A Vague Belief In Tales Of Disembodied Spirits Wandering Through Those Places Which They Once Dearly Affected, When He Himself, Scarcely Less Separated From His Old World Than They, Is For Ever Lingering Upon Past Emotions And Bygone Times, And Hovering, The Ghost Of His Former Self, About The Places And People That Warmed His Heart Of Old?

Change Begets Change.

There Is A Sunday Conscience As Well As A Sunday Coat; And Those Who Make Religion A Secondary Concern Put The Coat And Conscience Carefully By To Put On Only Once A Week.

"some Persons Hold," He Pursued, Still Hesitating, "that There Is A Wisdom Of The Head, And That There Is A Wisdom Of The Heart..."

Words Of Wisdom

And Still I Stood Looking At The House, Thinking How Happy I Should Be If I Lived There With Her, And Knowing That I Never Was Happy With Her, But Always Miserable.

Take The Pencil And Write Under My Name, 'i Forgive Her.

Every Baby Born Into The World Is A Finer One Than The Last.

It Is Because I Think So Much Of Warm And Sensitive Hearts, That I Would Spare Them From Being Wounded.

May I Tell You Why It Seems To Me A Good Thing For Us To Remember Wrong That Has Been Done Us? That We May Forgive It.

It Was A Foggy Day In London, And The Fog Was Heavy And Dark. Animate London, With Smarting Eyes And Irritated Lungs, Was Blinking, Wheezing, And Choking; Inanimate London Was A Sooty Spectre, Divided In Purpose Between Being Visible And Invisible, And So Being Wholly Neither.

My Faith In The People Governing Is, On The Whole, Infinitesimal; My Faith In The People Governed Is, On The Whole, Illimitable.

The Privileges Of The Side-table Included The Small Prerogatives Of Sitting Next To The Toast, And Taking Two Cups Of Tea To Other People's One.

"walter," She Said, Looking Full Upon Him With Her Affectionate Eyes, "like You, I Hope For Better Things. I Will Pray For Them, And Believe That They Will Arrive."

Morning Drew On Apace. The Air Became More Sharp And Piercing, As Its First Dull Hue: The Death Of Night, Rather Than The Birth Of Day: Glimmered Faintly In The Sky. The Objects Which Had Looked Dim And Terrible In The Darkness, Grew More And More Defined, And Gradually Resolved Into Their Familiar Shapes. The Rain Came Down, Thick And Fast; And Pattered, Noisily, Among The Leafless Bushes.

I Never Thought Before, That There Was A Woman In The World Who Could Affect Me So Much By Saying So Little. But Don't Be Hard In Your Construction Of Me. You Don't Know What My State Of Mind Towards You Is. You Don't Know How You Haunt And Bewilder Me. You Don't Know How The Cursed Carelessness That Is Over-officious In Helping Me At Every Other Turning Of My Life Won't Help Me Here. You Have Struck It Dead, I Think, And I Sometimes Wish You Had Struck Me Dead Along With It.

A Man Must Take The Fat With The Lean.

I Don't Remember Forms Or Faces Now, But I Know The Girl Was Beautiful. I Know She Was; For In The Bright Moonlight Nights, When I Start From My Sleep, And All Is Quiet About Me, I See, Standing Still And Motionless In One Corner Of This Cell, A Slight And Wasted Figure With Long Black Hair, Which Streaming Down Her Back, Stirs With No Earthly Wind, And Eyes That Fix Their Gaze On Me, And Never Wink Or Close.

It Was One Of Those March Days When The Sun Shines Hot And The Wind Blows Cold: When It Is Summer In The Light, And Winter In The Shade.

Thus Violent Deeds Live After Men Upon The Earth, And Traces Of War And Bloodshed Will Survive In Mournful Shapes Long After Those Who Worked The Desolation Are But Atoms Of Earth Themselves.

There Have Been Occasions In My Later Life (i Suppose As In Most Lives) When I Have Felt For A Time As If A Thick Curtain Had Fallen On All Its Interest And Romance, To Shut Me Out From Anything Save Dull Endurance Any More. Never Has That Curtain Dropped So Heavy And Blank, As When My Way In Life Lay Stretched Out Straight Before Me Through The Newly-entered Road Of Apprenticeship To Joe.

Let Me See You Ride A Donkey Over My Green Again, And As Sure As You Have A Head Upon Your Shoulders, I'll Knock Your Bonnet Off, And Tread Upon It!

The Citizen ... Preserved The Resolute Bearing Of One Who Was Not To Be Frowned Down Or Daunted, And Who Cared Very Little For Any Nobility But That Of Worth And Manhood.

I Only Know That It Was, And Ceased To Be; And That I Have Written, And There I Leave It.

But, In This Separation I Associate You Only With The Good And I Will Faithfully Hold You To That Always, For You Have Done Far More Good Than Harm, Let Me Feel Now What Sharp Distress I May.

Great Expectations

I Recollected One Story There Was In The Village, How That On A Certain Night In The Year (it Might Be That Very Night For Anything I Knew), All The Dead People Came Out Of The Ground And Sat At The Heads Of Their Own Graves Till Morning.

I Would Like To Be Going All Over The Kingdom...and Acting Everywhere. There's Nothing In The World Equal To Seeing The House Rise At You, One Sea Of Delightful Faces, One Hurrah Of Applause!

... Take Another Glass Of Wine, And Excuse My Mentioning That Society As A Body Does Not Expect One To Be So Strictly Conscientious In Emptying One's Glass, As To Turn It Bottom Upwards With The Rim On One's Nose.

It Always Grieves Me To Contemplate The Initiation Of Children Into The Ways Of Life When They Are Scarcely More Than Infants. It Checks Their Confidence And Simplicity, Two Of The Best Qualities That Heaven Gives Them, And Demands That They Share Our Sorrows Before They Are Capable Of Entering Into Our Enjoyments.

I Am A Neat Hand At Cookery, And I'll Tell You What I Knocked Up For My Christmas-eve Dinner In The Library Cart. I Knocked Up A Beefsteak-pudding For One, With Two Kidneys, A Dozen Oysters, And A Couple Of Mushrooms Thrown In. It's A Pudding To Put A Man In Good Humour With Everything, Except The Two Bottom Buttons Of His Waistcoat.

Most Men Unconsciously Judge The World From Themselves, And It Will Be Very Generally Found That Those Who Sneer Habitually At Human Nature, And Affect To Despise It, Are Among Its Worst And Least Pleasant Samples.

Love Is Not A Feeling To Pass Away Like The Balmy Breath Of A Summer's Day....... Love Is Not A Passion Of Earthly Mould As A Thirst For Honour, Or Fame, Or Gold

There Are Many Pleasant Fictions Of The Law In Constant Operation, But There Is Not One So Pleasant Or Practically Humorous As That Which Supposes Every Man To Be Of Equal Value In Its Impartial Eye, And The Benefits Of All Laws To Be Equally Attainable By All Men, Without The Smallest Reference To The Furniture Of Their Pockets.

Dickens Writes That An Event, "began To Be Forgotten, As Most Affairs Are, When Wonder, Having No Fresh Food To Support It, Dies Away Of Itself.

Spite Is A Little Word, But It Represents As Strange A Jumble Of Feelings And Compound Of Discords, As Any Polysyllable In The Language.

"ecod, You May Say What You Like Of My Father, Then, And So I Give You Leave," Said Jonas. "i Think It's Liquid Aggravation That Circulates Through His Veins, And Not Regular Blood..."

Mrs. Lammle's Manner Changed Under The Poor Silly Girl's Embraces, And She Turned Extremely Pale: Directing One Appealing Look, First To Mrs. Boffin, And Then To Mr. Boffin. Both Understood Her Instantly, With A More Delicate Subtlety Than Much Better Educated People, Whose Perception Came Less Directly From The Heart, Could Have Brought To Bear Upon The Case.

You Know What I Am Going To Say. I Love You. What Other Men May Mean When They Use That Expression, I Cannot Tell. What I Mean Is That I Am Under The Influence Of Some Tremendous Attraction Which I Have Resisted In Vain, And Which Overmasters Me. You Could Draw Me To Fire, You Could Draw Me To Water, You Could Draw Me To The Gallows, You Could Draw Me To Any Death, You Could Draw Me To Anything I Have Most Avoided, You Could Draw Me To Any Exposure And Disgrace. This And The Confusion Of My Thoughts, So That I Am Fit For Nothing, Is What I Mean By Your Being The Ruin Of Me.

And Yet I Love Him. I Love Him So Much And So Dearly, That When I Sometimes Think My Life May Be But A Weary One, I Am Proud Of It And Glad Of It. I Am Proud And Glad To Suffer Something For Him, Even Though It Is Of No Service To Him, And He Will Never Know Of It Or Care For It.

I Saw That The Bride Within The Bridal Dress Had Withered Like The Dress, And Like The Flowers, And Had No Brightness Left But The Brightness Of Her Sunken Eyes.

He Was The Meekest Of His Sex, The Mildest Of Little Men. He Sidled In And Out Of A Room, To Take Up The Less Space. He Walked As Softly As The Ghost In Hamlet, And More Slowly. He Carried His Head On One Side, Partly In Modest Depreciation Of Himself, Partly In Modest Propitiation Of Everybody Else.

The Rain And Hail Pattered Against The Glass; The Chimneys Quaked And Rocked; The Crazy Casement Rattled With The Wind, As Though An Impatient Hand Inside Were Striving To Burst It Open. But No Hand Was There, And It Opened No More.

And Numerous Indeed Are The Hearts To Which Christmas Brings A Brief Season Of Happiness And Enjoyment.

Their Demeanor Is Invariably Morose, Sullen, Clownish And Repulsive. I Should Think There Is Not, On The Face Of The Earth, A People So Entirely Destitute Of Humor, Vivacity, Or The Capacity For Enjoyment.

"mine Ain't A Selfish Affection, You Know," Said Mr. Toots, In The Confidence Engendered By His Having Been A Witness Of The Captain's Tenderness. "it's The Sort Of Thing With Me, Captain Gills, That If I Could Be Run Over - Or - Or Trampled Upon - Or - Or Thrown Off A Very High Place -or Anything Of That Sort - For Miss Dombey's Sake, It Would Be The Most Delightful Thing That Could Happen To Me."

We Need Be Careful How We Deal With Those About Us, When Every Death Carries To Some Small Circle Of Survivors, Thoughts Of So Much Omitted, And So Little Done- Of So Many Things Forgotten, And So Many More Which Might Have Been Repaired! There Is No Remorse So Deep As That Which Is Unavailing; If We Would Be Spared Its Tortures, Let Us Remember This, In Time.

Fledgeby Deserved Mr. Alfred Lammle's Eulogium. He Was The Meanest Cur Existing, With A Single Pair Of Legs. And Instinct (a Word We All Clearly Understand) Going Largely On Four Legs, And Reason Always On Two, Meanness On Four Legs Never Attains The Perfection Of Meanness On Two.

Then, At The End Of Every Hand, Miss Bolo Would Inquire With A Dismal Countenance And Reproachful Sigh, Why Mr. Pickwick Had Not Returned That Diamond, Or Led The Club, Or Roughed The Spade, Or Finessed The Heart, Or Led Through The Honour, Or Brought Out The Ace, Or Played Up To The King, Or Some Such Thing; And In Reply To All These Grave Charges, Mr. Pickwick Would Be Wholly Unable To Plead Any Justification Whatever, Having By This Time Forgotten All About The Game.

Try To Do Unto Others As You Would Have Them Do To You, And Do Not Be Discouraged If They Fail Sometimes. It Is Much Better That They Should Fail Than You Should.

The Memories Which Peaceful Country Scenes Call Up, Are Not Of This World, Nor Of Its Thoughts And Hopes. Their Gentle Influence May Teach Us How To Weave Fresh Garlands For The Graves Of Those We Loved: May Purify Our Thoughts, And Bear Down Before It Old Enmity And Hatred; But Beneath All This, There Lingers, In The Least Reflective Mind, A Vague And Half-formed Consciousness Of Having Held Such Feelings Long Before, In Some Remote And Distant Time, Which Calls Up Solemn Thoughts Of Distant Times To Come, And Bends Down Pride And Worldliness Beneath It.

It Was A Long And Gloomy Night That Gathered On Me, Haunted By The Ghosts Of Many Hopes, Of Many Dear Remembrances, Many Errors, Many Unavailing Sorrows And Regrets.

Every Man, However Obscure, However Far Removed From The General Recognition, Is One Of A Group Of Men Impressible For Good, And Impressible For Evil, And It Is In The Nature Of Things That He Cannot Really Improve Himself Without In Some Degree Improving Other Men.

Regrets Are The Natural Property Of Grey Hairs.

You Should Keep Dogs-fine Animals-sagacious.

Are There No Prisons?

Let Us Be Moral. Let Us Contemplate Existence.

One Always Begins To Forgive A Place As Soon As It's Left Behind.

Scattered Wits Take A Long Time In Picking Up.

Accidentally Consumed Five Biscuits When I Wasn't Paying Attention. Those Biscuits Are Wily Fellows - They Leap In Like Sugary Ninjas

I Can Never Close My Lips Where I Have Opened My Heart

In Seasons Of Pestilence, Some Of Us Will Have A Secret Attraction To The Disease--a Terrible Passing Inclination To Die Of It.

When She Took Her Opposite Place In The Carriage Corner, The Brightness In Her Face Was So Charming To Behold, That On Her Exclaiming, "what Beautiful Stars And What A Glorious Night!" The Secretary Said "yes," But Seemed To Prefer To See The Night And The Stars In The Light Of Her Lovely Little Countenance, To Looking Out Of Window.

When The Time Comes, Let Loose A Tiger And A Devil; But Wait For The Time With The Tiger And The Devil Chained -not Shown- Yet Always Ready.

And Thus Ever By Day And Night, Under The Sun And Under The Stars, Climbing The Dusty Hills And Toiling Along The Weary Plains, Journeying By Land And Journeying By Sea, Coming And Going So Strangely, To Meet And To Act And React On One Another, Move All We Restless Travellers Through The Pilgrimage Of Life.

"a Child!" Said Edith, Looking At Her. "when Was I A Child? What Childhood Did You Ever Leave To Me? I Was A Woman - Artful, Designing, Mercenary, Laying Snares For Men - Before I Knew Myself, Or You, Or Even Understood The Base And Wretched Aim Of Every New Display I Learnt. You Gave Birth To A Woman. Look Upon Her. She Is In Her Pride Tonight."

Nothing That We Do, Is Done In Vain. I Believe, With All My Soul, That We Shall See Triumph.

I See A Beautiful City And A Brilliant People Rising From This Abyss, And, In Their Struggles To Be Truly Free, In Their Triumphs And Defeats, Through Long Years To Come, I See The Evil Of This Time And Of The Previous Time Of Which This Is The Natural Birth, Gradually Making Expiation For Itself And Wearing Out.

How Could You Give Me Life, And Take From Me All The Inappreciable Things That Raise It From The State Of Conscious Death? Where Are The Graces Of My Soul? Where Are The Sentiments Of My Heart? What Have You Done, Oh, Father, What Have You Done With The Garden That Should Have Bloomed Once, In This Great Wilderness Here? Said Louisa As She Touched Her Heart.

So Does A Whole World, With All Its Greatnesses And Littlenesses, Lie In A Twinkling Star. And As Mere Human Knowledge Can Split A Ray Of Light And Analyse The Manner Of Its Composition, So, Sublimer Intelligences May Read In The Feeble Shining Of This Earth Of Ours, Every Thought And Act, Every Vice And Virtue, Of Every Responsible Creature On It.

The One Great Principle Of English Law Is To Make Business For Itself.

All Partings Foreshadow The Great Final One.

Now, I Return To This Young Fellow. And The Communication I Have Got To Make Is, That He Has Great Expectations.

At Last, However, He Began To Think -- As You Or I Would Have Thought At First; For It Is Always The Person Not In The Predicament Who Knows What Ought To Have Been Done In It, And Would Unquestionably Have Done It Too . . .

Words Of Wisdom

Is It Better To Have Had A Good Thing And Lost It, Or Never To Have Had It?

It Was Very Dark; But In The Murky Sky There Were Masses Of Cloud Which Shone With A Lurid Light, Like Monstrous Heaps Of Copper That Had Been Heated In A Furnace, And Were Growing Cold.

The More Especially, As In My Juvenile Frankness, I Took Some Credit To Myself For Being So Confidential And Felt That I Was Quite The Patron Of My Two Respectful Entertainers.

There Is Something Indefinably Keen And Wan About Her Anatomy, And She Has A Watchful Way Of Looking Out Of The Corners Of Her Eyes Without Turning Her Head Which Could Be Pleasantly Dispensed With, Especially When She Is In An Ill Humour And Near Knives. Through All The Good Taste Of Her Dress And Little Adornments, These Objections So Express Themselves That She Seems To Go About Like A Very Neat She-wolf Imperfectly Tamed.

I'd Lay Down My Life For Her - Mas'r Davy - Oh! Most Content And Cheerful! She's More To Me - Gent'lmen - Than - She's All To Me That Ever I Can Want, And More Than Ever I - Than Ever I Could Say. I - I Love Her True. There Ain't A Gent'lman In All The Land - Nor Yet Sailing Upon All The Sea - That Can Love His Lady More Than I Love Her.

You Hear, Eugene?' Said Lightwood Over His Shoulder. 'you Are Deeply Interested In Lime.' 'without Lime,' Returned That Unmoved Barrister At Law, 'my Existence Would Be Unilluminated By A Ray Of Hope.

An Unfinished Coffin On Black Tressels, Which Stood In The Middle Of The Shop, Looked So Gloomy And Death-like That A Cold Tremble Came Over Him, Every Time His Eyes Wandered In The Direction Of The Dismal Object: From Which He Almost Expected To See Some Frightful Form Slowly Rear Its Head, To Drive Him Mad With Terror.

He Would Make A Lovely Corpse.

If You Will Take Me For Your Wife, Walter, I Will Love You Dearly. If You Will Let Me Go With You, Walter, I Will Go To The World's End Without Fear. I Can Give Up Nothing For You - I Have Nothing To Resign, And No One To Forsake; But All My Love And Life Shall Be Devoted To You, And With My Last Breath I Will Breathe Your Name To God If I Have Sense And Memory Left.

The More Man Knows Of Man, The Better For The Common Brotherhood Among Men.

Yet, I Had Nothing Else To Tell; Unless, Indeed, I Were To Confess (which Might Be Of Less Moment Still), That No One Can Ever Believe This Narrative, In The Reading, More Than I Believed It In The Writing.

I Believe No Satirist Could Breathe This Air. If Another Juvenal Or Swift Could Rise Up Among Us Tomorrow, He Would Be Hunted Down. If You Have Any Knowledge Of Our Literature, And Can Give Me The Name Of Any Man, American Born And Bred, Who Has Anatomised Our Follies As A People, And Not As This Or That Party; And Who Has Escaped The Foulest And Most Brutal Slander, The Most Inveterate Hatred And Intolerant Pursuit; It Will Be A Strange Name In My Ears, Believe Me.

It Is A Long Time,' Repeated His Wife; 'and When Is It Not A Long Time? Vengeance And Retribution Require A Long Time; It Is The Rule.' 'it Does Not Take A Long Time To Strike A Man With Lightning,' Said Defarge. 'how Long,' Demanded Madame, Composedly, 'does It Take To Make And Store The Lightning? Tell Me?

Heaven Knows We Need Never Be Ashamed Of Our Tears, For They Are Rain Upon The Blinding Dust Of Earth, Overlying Our Hard Hearts. I Was Better After I Had Cried, Than Before--more Sorry, More Aware Of My Own Ingratitude, More Gentle.

To Close The Eyes, And Give A Seemly Comfort To The Apparel Of The Dead, Is Poverty's Holiest Touch Of Nature.

"oh!" Said My Aunt, "i Was Not Aware At First To Whom I Had The Pleasure Of Objecting."

It Is The Last Straw That Breaks The Camel's Back.

Pause You Who Read This, And Think For A Moment Of The Long Chain Of Iron Or Gold, Of Thorns Or Flowers, That Would Never Have Bound You, But For The Formation Of The First Link On One Memorable Day.

Poetry's Unnat'ral; No Man Ever Talked Poetry 'cept A Beadle On Boxin' Day, Or Warren's Blackin' Or Rowland's Oil, Or Some O' Them Low Fellows; Never You Let Yourself Down To Talk Poetry, My Boy.

Christmas Is A Time In Which, Of All Times In The Year, The Memory Of Every Remediable Sorrow, Wrong, And Trouble In The World Around Us, Should Be Active With Us, Not Less Than Our Own Experiences, For All Good.

-why Don't You Cry Again, You Little Wretch? -because I'll Never Cry For You Again.

Sadly, Sadly, The Sun Rose; It Rose Upon No Sadder Sight Than The Man Of Good Abilities And Good Emotions, Incapable Of Their Directed Exercise, Incapable Of His Own Help And His Own Happiness, Sensible Of The Blight On Him, And Resigning Himself To Let It Eat Him Away.

A Moment, And Its Glory Was No More. The Sun Went Down Beneath The Long Dark Lines Of Hill And Cloud Which Piled Up In The West An Airy City, Wall Heaped On Wall, And Battlement On Battlement; The Light Was All Withdrawn; The Shining Church Turned Cold And Dark; The Stream Forgot To Smile; The Birds Were Silent; And The Gloom Of Winter Dwelt On Everything.

It's Over, And Can't Be Helped, And That's One Consolation, As They Always Say In Turkey, When They Cut The Wrong Man's Head Off.

A Person Who Can't Pay Gets Another Person Who Can't Pay To Guarantee That He Can Pay. Like A Person With Two Wooden Legs Getting Another Person With Two Wooden Legs To Guarantee That He Has Got Two Natural Legs. It Don't Make Either Of Them Able To Do A Walking-match.

Guarantees That

When The Moon Shines Very Brilliantly, A Solitude And Stillness Seem To Proceed From Her That Influence Even Crowded Places Full Of Life.

Before I Go," He Said, And Paused -- "i May Kiss Her?" It Was Remembered Afterwards That When He Bent Down And Touched Her Face With His Lips, He Murmured Some Words. The Child, Who Was Nearest To Him, Told Them Afterwards, And Told Her Grandchildren When She Was A Handsome Old Lady, That She Heard Him Say, "a Life You Love.

But, For All That, They Had A Very Pleasant Walk. The Trees Were Bare Of Leaves, And The River Was Bare Of Water-lilies; But The Sky Was Not Bare Of Its Beautiful Blue, And The Water Reflected It, And A Delicious Wind Ran With The Stream, Touching The Surface Crisply.

Everybody Said So. Far Be It From Me To Assert That What Everybody Says Must Be True. Everybody Is, Often, As Likely To Be Wrong As Right.

Words Of Wisdom

We Still Leave Unblotted In The Leaves Of Our Statute Book, For The Reverence And Admiration Of Successive Ages, The Just And Wholesome Law Which Declares That The Sturdy Felon Shall Be Fed And Clothed, And That The Penniless Debtor Shall Be Left To Die Of Starvation And Nakedness. This Is No Fiction.

After Tea, We Discussed A Variety Of Topics Before The Fire; And Mrs. Micawber Was Good Enough To Sing Us (in A Small, Thin, Flat Voice, Which I Remembered To Have Considered, When I First Knew Her, The Very Table-beer Of Acoustics) The Favourite Ballads Of "the Dashing White Sergeant", And "little Tafflin".

There Is No Such Passion In Human Nature, As The Passion For Gravy Among Commercial Gentlemen.

... I Feel Certain That His Tale Is True. Feeling That Certainty, I Befriend Him. As Long As That Certainty Shall Last, I Will Befriend Him. And If Any Consideration Could Shake Me In This Resolve, I Should Be So Ashamed Of Myself For My Meanness, That No Man's Good Opinion - No, Nor No Woman's - So Gained, Could Compensate Me For The Loss Of My Own.

The Flowers That Sleep By Night, Opened Their Gentle Eyes And Turned Them To The Day. The Light, Creation's Mind, Was Everywhere, And All Things Owned Its Power.

The Sum Of The Whole Is This: Walk And B« Happy! Walk And Be Healthy. The Best Of All Ways To Lengthen Ourdays, Is Notas Mr. Thomas Moore Has It, " ]to Steal A Few Hours From Night, My Love;" But With Leave, Be It Spoken, To Walk Steadily And With A Purpose.

"people Can't Die, Along The Coast," Said Mr. Peggotty, "except When The Tide's Pretty Nigh Out. They Can't Be Born, Unless It's Pretty Nigh In - Not Properly Born, Till Flood. He's A Going Out With The Tide. It's Ebb At Half-arter Three, Slack Water Half An Hour. If He Lives Till It Turns, He'll Hold His Own Till Past The Flood, And Go Out With The Next Tide."

When I Have Heard Him Talking To Papa During The Sittings For The Picture, I Have Sat Wondering Whether It Could Be That He Has No Belief In Anybody Else, Because He Has No Belief In Himself.

Words Of Wisdom

Happiness Is A Gift And The Trick Is Not To Expect It, But To Delight In It When It Comes.

[i]t Seemed As If The Streets Were Absorbed By The Sky, And The Night Were All In The Air.

Detestation Of The High Is The Involuntary Homage Of The Low.

My Uncle, Gentlemen, Could Say Nothing; He Was So Very Much Astonished The Queerest Thing Of All, Was, That Although There Was Such A Crowd Of Persons, And Although Fresh Faces Were Pouring In, Every Moment, There Was No Telling Where They Came From. They Seemed To Start Up, In Some Strange Manner, From The Ground, Or The Air, And Disappear In The Same Way.

If Natur Has Gifted A Man With Powers Of Argeyment, A Man Has A Right To Make The Best Of 'em, And Has Not A Right To Stand On False Delicacy, And Deny That He Is So Gifted; For That Is A Turning Of His Back On Natur, A Flouting Of Her, A Slighting Of Her Precious Caskets, And A Proving Of One's Self To Be A Swine That Isn't Worth Her Scattering Pearls Before.

I Wear The Chains I Forged In Life.

... Waiter! Raw Beef-steak For The Gentleman's Eye,-nothing Like Raw Beef-steak For A Bruise, Sir; Cold Lamp-post Very Good, But Lamp-post Inconvenient-damned Odd Standing In The Open Street Half-an-hour, With Your Eye Against A Lamp.

He Was Consious Of A Thousand Odours Floating In The Air, Each One Connected With A Thousand Thoughts, And Hopes, And Joys, And Cares, Long, Long, Forgotten.

Listlessness To Everything, But Brooding Sorrow, Was The Night That Fell On My Undisciplined Heart. Let Me Look Up From It - As At Last I Did, Thank Heaven! - And From Its Long, Sad, Wretched Dream, To Dawn.

Marley Was Dead, To Begin With ... This Must Be Distintly Understood, Or Nothing Wonderful Can Come Of The Story I Am Going To Relate.

You Will Profit By The Failure, And Will Avoid It Another Time. I Have Done A Similar Thing Myself, In Construction, Often. Every Failure Teaches A Man Something, If He Will Learn.

Words Of Wisdom

I Know Nothing Of Philosophical Philanthropy. But I Know What I Have Seen, And What I Have Looked In The Face In This World Here, Where I Find Myself. And I Tell You This, My Friend, That There Are People (men And Women Both, Unfortunately) Who Have No Good In Them-none. That There Are People Whom It Is Necessary To Detest Without Compromise. That There Are People Who Must Be Dealt With As Enemies Of The Human Race. That There Are People Who Have No Human Heart, And Who Must Be Crushed Like Savage Beasts And Cleared Out Of The Way.

"i Know Quite Enough Of Myself," Said Bella, With A Charming Air Of Being Inclined To Give Herself Up As A Bad Job, "and I Don't Improve Upon Acquaintance..."

He Was A Very Young Boy; Quite A Little Child. His Hair Still Hung In Curls About His Face, And His Eyes Were Very Bright; But Their Light Was Of Heaven, Not Earth.

Your Voice And Music Are The Same To Me.

To A Young Heart Everything Is Fun.

...and To-morrow Looked In My Face More Steadily Than I Could Look At It

Other Sound Than The Owl's Voice There Was None, Save The Falling Of A Fountain Into Its Stone Basin; For, It Was One Of Those Dark Nights That Hold Their Breath By The Hour Together, And Then Heave A Long Low Sigh, And Hold Their Breath Again.

The Cold Hoarfrost Glistened On The Tombstones, And Sparkled Like Rows Of Gems, Among The Stone Carvings Of The Old Church. The Snow Lay Hard And Crisp Upon The Ground; And Spread Over The Thickly-strewn Mounds Of Earth, So White And Smooth A Cover, That It Seemed As If Corpses Lay There, Hidden Only By Their Winding Sheets.

Crush Humanity Out Of Shape Once More, Under Similar Hammers, And It Will Twist Itself Into The Same Tortured Forms. Sow The Same Seeds Of Rapacious Licence And Oppression Over Again, And It Will Surely Yield The Same Fruit According To Its Kind.

It Is Required Of Every Man," The Ghost Returned, "that The Spirit Within Him Should Walk Abroad Among His Fellow-men, And Travel Far And Wide; And, If That Spirit Goes Not Forth In Life, It Is Condemned To Do So After Death.

My Father’s Family Name Being Pirrip, And My Christian Name Philip, My Infant Tongue Could Make Of Both Names Nothing Longer Or More Explicit Than Pip. So, I Called Myself Pip, And Came To Be Called Pip.

"hope, You See, Wal'r," Said The Captain, Sagely, "hope. It's That As Animates You. Hope Is A Buoy, For Which You Overhaul Your Little Warbler, Sentimental Diwision, But Lord, My Lad, Like Any Other Buoy, It Only Floats; It Can't Be Steered Nowhere. Along With The Figure-head Of Hope,' Said The Captain, 'there's A Anchor; But What's The Good Of My Having A Anchor, If I Can't Find No Bottom To Let It Go In?"

The Christmas Season Reminds Us That A Demonstration Of Religion Is Always Much Better Than A Definition Of It...especially In Front Of The Kids. Perhaps The Best Yuletide Decorations Are To Be Wreathed In Smiles And Wrapped In Hugs. The Miracle Of Christmas Is That A Baby Can Be So Decisive. It Is Good To Be Children Sometimes, And Never Better Than At Christmas, When Its Mighty Founder Was A Child Himself.

The Meagre Lighthouse All In White, Haunting The Seaboard, As If It Were The Ghost Of An Edifice That Had Once Had Colour And Rotundity, Dripped Melancholy Tears After Its Late Buffeting By The Waves.

I'm Awful Dull, But I Hope I've Beat Out Something Nigh The Rights Of This At Last. And So God Bless You, Dear Old Pip, Old Chap, God Bless You!

Words Of Wisdom

"i Go So Far As To Say, Miss, Morehover," Proceeded Mr. Cruncher, With A Most Alarming Tendency To Hold Forth As From A Pulpit-"and Let My Words Be Took Down And Took To Mrs. Cruncher Through Yourself-that Wot My Opinions Respectin' Flopping Has Undergone A Change, And That Wot I Only Hope With All My Heart As Mrs. Cruncher May Be A Flopping At The Present Time."

I Love Your Daughter Fondly, Dearly, Disinterestedly, Devotedly. If Ever There Were Love In The World, I Love Her.

Tongue; Well That's A Wery Good Thing When It An't A Woman.

A Blight Had Fallen On The Trees And Shrubs; And The Wind, At Length Beginning To Break The Unnatural Stillness That Had Prevailed All Day, Sighed Heavily From Time To Time, As Though Foretelling In Grief The Ravages Of The Coming Storm. The Bat Skimmed In Fantastic Flights Through The Heavy Air, And The Ground Was Alive With Crawling Things, Whose Instinct Brought Them Forth To Swell And Fatten In The Rain.

"we Will Wait," Answered Little Alice, Taking Nettie's Hand In Hers, And Looking Up To The Sky, "we Will Wait - Ever Constant And True - Till The Times Have Got So Changed As That Everything Helps Us Out, And Nothing Makes Us Ridiculous, And The Fairies Have Come Back. We Will Wait - Ever Constant And True - Till We Are Eighty, Ninety, Or One Hundred. And Then The Fairies Will Send Us Children, And We Will Help Them Out, Poor Pretty Little Creatures, If They Pretend Ever So Much."

We Need Never Be Ashamed Of Our Tears.

We Spent As Much Money As We Could And Got As Little For It As People Could Make Up Their Minds To Give Us. We Were Always More Or Less Miserable, And Most Of Our Acquaintance Were In The Same Condition. There Was A Gay Fiction Among Us That We Were Constantly Enjoying Ourselves, And A Skeleton Truth That We Never Did. To The Best Of My Belief, Our Case Was In The Last Aspect A Rather Common One.

Wen You're A Married Man, Samivel, You'll Understand A Good Many Things As You Don't Understand Now; But Vether It's Worth While Goin' Through So Much To Learn So Little, As The Charity-boy Sand Ven He Go To The End Of The Alphabet, It's A Matter Of Taste.

Discipline Must Be Maintained.

Your Tale Is Of The Longest," Observed Monks, Moving Restlessly In His Chair. It Is A True Tale Of Grief And Trial, And Sorrow, Young Man," Returned Mr. Brownlow, "and Such Tales Usually Are; If It Were One Of Unmixed Joy And Happiness, It Would Be Very Brief.

I Will Honour Christmas In My Heart, And Try To Keep It All The Year. I Will Live In The Past, The Present, And The Future. The Spirits Of All Three Shall Strive Within Me. I Will Not Shut Out The Lessons That They Teach!

My Daughter, There Are Times Of Moral Danger When The Hardest Virtuous Resolution To Form Is Flight, And When The Most Heroic Bravery Is Flight.

Words Of Wisdom

The Very Dogs Were All Asleep, And The Flies, Drunk With Moist Sugar In The Grocer's Shop, Forgot Their Wings And Briskness, And Baked To Death In Dusty Corners Of The Window.

When I Have Come To You, At Last (as I Have Always Done), I Have Come To Peace And Happiness. I Come Home, Now, Like A Tired Traveller, And Find Such A Blessed Sense Of Rest!

The Civility Which Money Will Purchase, Is Rarely Extended To Those Who Have None.

I Ate 'umble Pie With An Appetite.

Out Upon Merry Christmas! What's Christmas Time To You But A Time For Paying Bills Without Money; A Time For Finding Yourself A Year Older, But Not An Hour Richer...? If I Could Work My Will," Said Scrooge Indignantly, "every Idiot Who Goes About With 'merry Christmas' Upon His Lips Should Be Boiled With His Won Pudding, And Buried With A Stake Of Holly Through His Heart. He Should!

The Evening Wind Made Such A Disturbance Just Now, Among Some Tall Old Elm-trees At The Bottom Of The Garden, That Neither My Mother Nor Miss Betsey Could Forbear Glancing That Way. As The Elms Bent To One Another, Like Giants Who Were Whispering Secrets, And After A Few Seconds Of Such Repose, Fell Into A Violent Flurry, Tossing Their Wild Arms About, As If Their Late Confidences Were Really Too Wicked For Their Peace Of Mind.

Constancy In Love Is A Good Thing; But It Means Nothing, And Is Nothing, Without Constancy In Every Kind Of Effort.

What Connexion Can There Be, Between The Place In Lincolnshire, The House In Town, The Mercury In Powder, And The Whereabout Of Jo The Outlaw With The Broom, Who Had That Distant Ray Of Light Upon Him When He Swept The Churchyard-step? What Connexion Can There Have Been Between Many People In The Innumerable Histories Of This World, Who, From Opposite Sides Of Great Gulfs, Have, Nevertheless, Been Very Curiously Brought Together!

Cheerfulness And Contentment Are Great Beautifiers, And Are Famous Preservers Of Good Looks.

In Love Of Home, The Love Of Country Has Its Rise.

I Will Honor Christmas In My Heart, And Try To Keep It All The Year.

'tis Love That Makes The World Go Round, My Baby.

Of Little Worth As Life Is When We Misuse It, It Is Worth That Effort. It Would Cost Nothing To Lay Down If It Were Not.

Mr. Cruncher... Always Spoke Of The Year Of Our Lord As Anna Dominoes: Apparently Under The Impression That The Christian Era Dated From The Invention Of A Popular Game, By A Lady Who Had Bestowed Her Name Upon It.

Rattle Me Out Of Bed Early, Set Me Going, Give Me As Short A Time As You Like To Bolt My Meals In, And Keep Me At It. Keep Me Always At It, And I'll Keep You Always At It, You Keep Somebody Else Always At It. There You Are With The Whole Duty Of Man In A Commercial Country.

The Town Was Glad With Morning Light; Places That Had Shown Ugly And Distrustful All Night Long, Now Wore A Smile; And Sparkling Sunbeams Dancing On Chamber Windows, And Twinkling Through Blind And Curtain Before Sleepers’ Eyes, Shed Light Even Into Dreams, And Chased Away The Shadows Of The Night.

"madam," Replied Mr. Micawber, "it Is My Intention To Register Such A Vow On The Virgin Page Of The Future."

Hours Are Golden Links--god's Tokens Reaching Heaven.

Annual Income Is £ 20, The Cost Is 19, You Will Feel Happiness. If Annual Income Of £ 20, The Cost Is £ 20.6, You Will See Suffering

There Wasn't Room To Swing A Cat There.

He Appeared To Enjoy Beyond Everything The Sound Of His Own Voice. I Couldn't Wonder At That, For It Was Mellow And Full And Gave Great Importance To Every Word He Uttered. He Listened To Himself With Obvious Satisfaction And Sometimes Gently Beat Time To His Own Music With His Head Or Rounded A Sentence With His Hand.

I Think It Impossible, Utterly Impossible, For Any Englishman To Live Here [in America], And Be Happy.

"the Twins No Longer Derive Their Sustenance From Nature's Founts - In Short," Said Mr. Micawber, In One Of His Bursts Of Confidence, "they Are Weaned..."

It Is An Exquisite And Beautiful Thing In Our Nature, That, When The Heart Is Touched And Softened By Some Tranquil Happiness Or Affectionate Feeling, The Memory Of The Dead Comes Over It Most Powerfully And Irresistibly. It Would Seem Almost As Though Our Better Thoughts And Sympathies Were Charms, In Virtue Of Which The Soul Is Enabled To Hold Some Vague And Mysterious Intercourse With The Spirits Of Those Whom We Loved In Life. Alas! How Often And How Long May These Patient Angels Hover Around Us, Watching For The Spell Which Is So Soon Forgotten!

Then Idiots Talk....of Energy. If There Is A Word In The Dictionary Under Any Letter From A To Z That I Abominate, It Is Energy. It Is Such A Conventional Superstition, Such Parrot Gabble! What The Deuce!....but Show Me A Good Opportunity, Show Me Something Really Worth Being Energetic About, And I'll Show You Energy.

Mrs. Boffin And Me, Ma'am, Are Plain People, And We Don't Want To Pretend To Anything, Nor Yet To Go Round And Round At Anything Because There's Always A Straight Way To Everything.

Words Of Wisdom

They Enter, Locking Themselves In, Descend The Rugged Steps, And Are Down In The Crypt. The Lantern Is Not Wanted, For The Moonlight Strikes In At The Groined Windows, Bare Of Glass, The Broken Frames For Which Cast Patterns On The Ground. The Heavy Pillars Which Support The Roof Engender Masses Of Black Shade, But Between Them There Are Lanes Of Light.

A Day Wasted On Others Is Not Wasted On One's Self.

Trending Author

Randa Abdel-Fattah

Craig T. Nelson

Category