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And Could I Look Upon Her Without Compassion, Seeing Her Punishment In The Ruin She Was, In Her Profound Unfitness For This Earth On Which She Was Placed, In The Vanity Of Sorrow Which Had Become A Master Mania, Like The Vanity Of Penitence, The Vanity Of Remorse, The Vanity Of Unworthiness, And Other Monstrous Vanities That Have Been Curses In This World?

-Charles Dickens

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And Could I Look

Charles Dickens

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And Could I Look Upon Her Without Compassion, Seeing Her Punishment In The Ruin She Was, In Her Profound Unfitness For This Earth On Which She Was Placed, In The Vanity Of Sorrow Which Had Become A Master Mania, Like The Vanity Of Penitence, The Vanity Of Remorse, The Vanity Of Unworthiness, And Other Monstrous Vanities That Have Been Curses In This World?

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There Are Chords In The Human Heart- Strange, Varying Strings- Which Are Only Struck By Accident; Which Will Remain Mute And Senseless To Appeals The Most Passionate And Earnest, And Respond At Last To The Slightest Casual Touch.

Affery, Like Greater People, Had Always Been Right In Her Facts, And Always Wrong In The Theories She Deduced From Them.

Words Of Wisdom

He Was By No Means Opposed To Hard Labour On Principle, For He Would Work Away At A Cricket-match By The Day Together, - Running, And Catching, And Batting, And Bowling, And Revelling In Toil Which Would Exhaust A Galley-slave.

He Knew Enough Of The World To Know That There Is Nothing In It Better Than The Faithful Service Of The Heart.

"why, I Don't Exactly Know About Perjury, My Dear Sir," Replied The Little Gentleman. "harsh Word, My Dear Sir, Very Harsh Word Indeed. It's A Legal Fiction, My Dear Sir, Nothing More."

I Think The Romans Must Have Aggravated One Another Very Much, With Their Noses. Perhaps, They Became The Restless People They Were, In Consequence.

There Can't Be A Quarrel Without Two Parties, And I Won't Be One. I Will Be A Friend To You In Spite Of You. So Now You Know What You've Got To Expect

Whatever I Have Tried To Do In Life, I Have Tried With All My Heart To Do It Well; Whatever I Have Devoted Myself To, I Have Devoted Myself Completely; In Great Aims And In Small I Have Always Thoroughly Been In Earnest.

In The Moonlight Which Is Always Sad, As The Light Of The Sun Itself Is--as The Light Called Human Life Is--at Its Coming And Its Going.

It Was A Dagger In The Haughty Father's Heart, An Arrow In His Brain, To See How The Flesh And Blood He Could Not Disown Clung To This Obscure Stranger, And He Sitting By. Not That He Cared To Whom His Daughter Turned, Or From Whom Turned Away. The Swift Sharp Agony Struck Through Him, As He Thought Of What His Son Might Do.

"there Are Strings," Said Mr. Tappertit, Flourishing His Bread-and-cheese Knife In The Air, "in The Human Heart That Had Better Not Be Wibrated..."

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.

The Haggard Aspect Of The Little Old Man Was Wonderfully Suited To The Place; He Might Have Groped Among Old Churches And Tombs And Deserted Houses And Gathered All The Spoils With His Own Hands. There Was Nothing In The Whole Collection But Was In Keeping With Himself Nothing That Looked Older Or More Worn Than He.

It Was The First Time It Had Ever Occurred To Me, That This Detestable Cant Of False Humility Might Have Originated Out Of The Heep Family. I Had Seen The Harvest, But Had Never Thought Of The Seed.

Love, However, Is Very Materially Assisted By A Warm And Active Imagination: Which Has A Long Memory, And Will Thrive, For A Considerable Time, On Very Slight And Sparing Food.

... Natural Affections And Instincts, My Dear Sir, Are The Most Beautiful Of The Almighty's Works, But Like Other Beautiful Works Of His, They Must Be Reared And Fostered, Or It Is As Natural That They Should Be Wholly Obscured, And That New Feelings Should Usurp Their Place, As It Is That The Sweetest Productions Of The Earth, Left Untended, Should Be Choked With Weeds And Briers.

It Was A Good Thing To Have A Couple Of Thousand People All Rigid And Frozen Together, In The Palm Of One's Hand.

Possibly We Might Even Improve The World A Little, If We Got Up Early In The Morning, And Took Off Our Coats To The Work.

It Is One Of Those Problems Of Human Nature, Which May Be Noted Down, But Not Solved; - Although Ralph Felt No Remorse At That Moment For His Conduct Towards The Innocent, True-hearted Girl; Although His Libertine Clients Had Done Precisely What He Had Expected, Precisely What He Most Wished, And Precisely What Would Tend Most To His Advantage, Still He Hated Them For Doing It, From The Very Bottom Of His Soul.

She Was The Most Wonderful Woman For Prowling About The House. How She Got From One Story To Another Was A Mystery Beyond Solution. A Lady So Decorous In Herself, And So Highly Connected, Was Not To Be Suspected Of Dropping Over The Banisters Or Sliding Down Them, Yet Her Extraordinary Facility Of Locomotion Suggested The Wild Idea.

We Changed Again, And Yet Again, And It Was Now Too Late And Too Far To Go Back, And I Went On. And The Mists Had All Solemnly Risen Now, And The World Lay Spread Before Me.

I Took A Good Deal O' Pains With His Eddication, Sir; Let Him Run In The Streets When He Was Very Young, And Shift For Hisself. It's The Only Way To Make A Boy Sharp, Sir.

There Is No Substitute For Thoroughgoing, Ardent, And Sincere Earnestness.

But You Were Always A Good Man Of Business, Jacob,' Faltered Scrooge, Who Now Began To Apply This To Himself. Business!' Cried The Ghost, Wringing Its Hands Again. "mankind Was My Business; Charity, Mercy, Forbearance, And Benevolence, Were, All, My Business. The Deals Of My Trade Were But A Drop Of Water In The Comprehensive Ocean Of My Business!

Christmas May Not Bring A Single Thing; Still, It Gives Me A Song To Sing.

Most Men Are Individuals No Longer So Far As Their Business, Its Activities, Or Its Moralities Are Concerned. They Are Not Units But Fractions.

Eccentricities Of Genius.

Let The Tears Which Fell, And The Broken Words Which Were Exchanged In The Long Close Embrace Between The Orphans, Be Sacred. A Father, Sister, And Mother, Were Gained, And Lost, In That One Moment. Joy And Grief Were Mingled In The Cup; But There Were No Bitter Tears: For Even Grief Arose So Softened, And Clothed In Such Sweet And Tender Recollections, That It Became A Solemn Pleasure, And Lost All Character Of Pain.

It Is Well For A Man To Respect His Own Vocation Whatever It Is And To Think Himself Bound To Uphold It And To Claim For It The Respect It Deserves

I Distress You; I Draw Fast To An End.

I Admire Machinery As Much Is Any Man, And Am As Thankful To It As Any Man Can Be For What It Does For Us. But It Will Never Be A Substitute For The Face Of A Man, With His Soul In It, Encouraging Another Man To Be Brave And True.

For Nature Gives To Every Time And Season Some Beauties Of Its Own; And From Morning To Night, As From The Cradle To The Grave, It Is But A Succession Of Changes So Gentle And Easy That We Can Scarcely Mark Their Progress.

And The Voices In The Waves Are Always Whispering To Florence, In Their Ceaseless Murmuring, Of Love - Of Love, Eternal And Illimitable, Not Bounded By The Confines Of This World, Or By The End Of Time, But Ranging Still, Beyond The Sea, Beyond The Sky, To The Invisible Country Far Away!

The Last Trumpet Ever To Be Sounded Shall Blow Even Algebra To Wreck.

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.

A Man In Public Life Expects To Be Sneered At -- It Is The Fault Of His Elevated Situation, And Not Of Himself.

No One Who Can Read, Ever Looks At A Book, Even Unopened On A Shelf, Like One Who Cannot.

Words Of Wisdom

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!

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

I Have Made Up My Mind That I Must Have Money, Pa. I Feel That I Can't Beg It, Borrow It, Or Steal It; And So I Have Resolved That I Must Marry It.

Great Men Are Seldom Over-scrupulous In The Arrangement Of Their Attire.

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.

Sudden Shifts And Changes Are No Bad Preparation For Political Life.

Old Mr. Rarx Was Not A Pleasant Man To Look At, Nor Yet To Talk To, Or To Be With, For No One Could Help Seeing That He Was A Sordid And Selfish Character, And That He Had Warped Further And Further Out Of The Straight With Time.

They Are Man's And They Cling To Me, Appealing From Their Fathers. This Boy Is Ignorance And This Girl Is Want. Beware Them Both, And All Of Their Degree, But Most Of All Beware This Boy For On His Brow I See That Written Which Is Doom, Unless The Writing Be Erased.

They Are So Filthy And Bestial That No Honest Man Would Admit One Into His House For A Water-closet Doormat.

It's In Vain To Recall The Past, Unless It Works Some Influence Upon The Present.

My Dear If You Could Give Me A Cup Of Tea To Clear My Muddle Of A Head I Should Better Understand Your Affairs.

I Verily Believe That Her Not Remembering And Not Minding In The Least, Made Me Cry Again, Inwardly - And That Is The Sharpest Crying Of All.

I Only Ask To Be Free. The Butterflies Are Free.

Have I Yet To Learn That The Hardest And Best-borne Trials Are Those Which Are Never Chronicled In Any Earthly Record, And Are Suffered Every Day!

Words Of Wisdom

Whether I Shall Turn Out To Be The Hero Of My Own Life, Or Whether That Station Will Be Held By Anybody Else, These Pages Must Show.

"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."

How Many Young Men, In All Previous Times Of Unprecedented Steadiness, Had Turned Suddenly Wild And Wicked For The Same Reason, And, In An Ecstasy Of Unrequited Love, Taken To Wrench Off Door-knockers, And Invert The Boxes Of Rheumatic Watchmen!

Unrequited Love

Probably Every New And Eagerly Expected Garment Ever Put On Since Clothes Came In, Fell A Trifle Short Of The Wearer's Expectation.

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.

A Loving Heart Is The Truest Wisdom.

He Had But One Eye, And The Popular Prejudice Runs In Favor Of Two.

"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..."

Old Marley Was As Dead As A Doornail. Mind! I Don't Mean To Say That, Of My Own Knowledge, What There Is Particularly Dead About A Doornail. I Might Have Been Inclined, Myself, To Regard A Coffin-nail As The Deadest Piece Of Ironmongery In The Trade. But The Wisdom Of Our Ancestors Is In The Simile; And My Unhallowed Hands Shall Not Disturb It, Or The Country's Done For. You Will Therefore Permit Me To Repeat, Emphatically, That Marley Was As Dead As A Doornail.

Judiciously Show A Cat Milk, If You Wish Her To Thirst For It. Judiciously Show A Dog His Natural Prey, If You Wish Him To Bring It Down One Day.

She Was Too Intent Upon Her Work, And Too Earnest In What She Said, And Too Composed And Quiet Altogether, To Be On The Watch For Any Look He Might Direct Towards Her In Reply; So The Shaft Of His Ungrateful Glance Fell Harmless, And Did Not Wound Her.

I Stole Her Heart Away And Put Ice In Its Place.

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.

Your Voice And Music Are The Same To Me.

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

If There Were No Bad People, There Would Be No Good Lawyers.

The Rippling Of The River Seemed To Cause A Correspondent Stir In His Uneasy Reflections. He Would Have Laid Them Asleep If He Could, But They Were In Movement, Like The Stream, And All Tending One Way With A Strong Current.

A Heart Well Worth Winning, And Well Won. A Heart That, Once Won, Goes Through Fire And Water For The Winner, And Never Changes, And Is Never Daunted.

And Can It Be That In A World So Full And Busy The Loss Of One Creature Makes A Void So Wide And Deep That Nothing But The Width And Depth Of Eternity Can Fill It Up!

We Part With Tender Relations Stretching Far Behind Us, That Never Can Be Exactly Renewed, And With Others Dawning - Yet Before Us.

I Know That She Deserves The Best And Purest Love The Heart Of Man Can Offer," Said Mrs. Maylie; "i Know That The Devotion And Affection Of Her Nature Require No Ordinary Return, But One That Shall Be Deep And Lasting.

A Man Must Take The Fat With The Lean.

He Was Wise Enough To Know That Nothing Ever Happened On This Globe, For Good, At Which Some People Did Not Have Their Fill Of Laughter In The Outset

In Fine Weather The Old Gentelman Is Almost Constantly In The Garden; And When It Is Too Wet To Go Into It, He Will Look Out The Window At It, By The Hour Together. He Has Always Something To Do There, And You Will See Him Digging, And Sweeping, And Cutting, And Planting, With Manifest Delight.

Why, Mrs. Piper Has A Good Deal To Say, Chiefly In Parentheses And Without Punctuation, But Not Much To Tell.

In A Utilitarian Age, Of All Other Times, It Is A Matter Of Grave Importance That Fairy Tales Should Be Respected.

There Can Be No Disparity In Marriage Like Unsuitability Of Mind And Purpose.

Why Am I Always At War With Myself? Why Have I Told, As If Upon Compulsion, What I Knew All Along I Ought To Have Withheld? Why Am I Making A Friend Of This Woman Beside Me, In Spite Of The Whispers Against Her That I Hear In My Heart?

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.

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.

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.

There Might Be Some Credit In Being Jolly.

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.

There Are Very Few Moments In A Man's Existence When He Experiences So Much Ludicrous Distress, Or Meets With So Little Charitable Commiseration, As When He Is In Pursuit Of His Own Hat.

I Believe The Spreading Of Catholicism To Be The Most Horrible Means Of Political And Social Degradation Left In The World.

I Have Been Bent And Broken, But - I Hope - Into A Better Shape.

Take Nothing On Its Looks; Take Everything On Evidence. There's No Better Rule.

Cows Are My Passion. What I Have Ever Sighed For Has Been To Retreat To A Swiss Farm, And Live Entirely Surrounded By Cows - And China.

Of All The Ruinous And Desolate Places My Uncle Had Ever Beheld, This Was The Most So. It Looked As If It Had Once Been A Large House Of Entertainment; But The Roof Had Fallen In, In Many Places, And The Stairs Were Steep, Rugged, And Broken. There Was A Huge Fire-place In The Room Into Which They Walked, And The Chimney Was Blackened With Smoke; But No Warm Blaze Lighted It Up Now. The White Feathery Dust Of Burnt Wood Was Still Strewed Over The Hearth, But The Stove Was Cold, And All Was Dark And Gloomy.

True Love Believes Everything, And Bears Everything, And Trusts Everything.

The New Year, Like An Infant Heir To The Whole World, Was Waited For, With Welcomes, Presents, And Rejoicings.

The Bright, Frosty Day Declined As They Walked And Spoke Together. The Sun Dipped In The River Far Behind Them, And The Old City Lay Red Before Them, As Their Walk Drew To A Close. The Moaning Water Cast Its Seaweed Duskily At Their Feet, When They Turned To Leave Its Margin; And The Rooks Hovered Above Them With Hoarse Cries, Darker Splashes In The Darkening Air.

This Was My Only And My Constant Comfort. When I Think Of It, The Picture Always Rises In My Mind, Of A Summer Evening, The Boys At Play In The Churchyard, And I Sitting On My Bed, Reading As If For Life.

He Was Bolder In The Daylight-most Men Are.

Words Of Wisdom

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.

In Every Life, No Matter How Full Or Empty Ones Purse, There Is Tragedy. It Is The One Promise Life Always Fulfills. Thus, Happiness Is A Gift, And The Trick Is Not To Expect It, But To Delight In It When It Comes, And To Add To Other Peoples Store Of It.

Both Miss Lavinia And Miss Clarissa Had A Superstition, However, That He Would Have Declared His Passion, If He Had Not Been Cut Short In His Youth (at About Sixty) By Over-drinking His Constitution, And Over-doing An Attempt To Set It Right Again By Swilling Bath Water.

I Have Had My Share Of Sorrows-more Than The Common Lot, Perhaps, But I Have Borne Them Ill. I Have Broken Where I Should Have Bent; And Have Mused And Brooded, When My Spirit Should Have Mixed With All God's Great Creation.

Mr. Tulkinghorn, Sitting In The Twilight By The Open Window, Enjoys His Wine. As If It Whispered To Him Of Its Fifty Years Of Silence And Seclusion, It Shuts Him Up The Closer. More Impenetrable Than Ever, He Sits, And Drinks, And Mellows As It Were In Secrecy, Pondering At That Twilight Hour On All The Mysteries He Knows.

Being That Rare Sort Of Old Girl That She Receives Good To Her Arms Without A Hint That It Might Be Better And Catches Light From Any Little Spot Of Darkness Near Her.

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

"would You, Do You, My Dear?" Rejoined The Captain ... "i Don't Know. It's Difficult Navigation. She's Very Hard To Carry On With, My Dear. You Never Can Tell How She'll Head, You See. She's Full One Minute, And Round Upon You Next."

I Don't Quite Recollect How Many Tumblers Of Whiskey Toddy Each Man Drank After Supper; But This I Know, That About One O'clock In The Morning, The Baillie's Grown-up Son Became Insensible While Attempting The First Verse Of 'willie Brewed A Peck O' Maut'; And He Having Been, For Half An Hour Before, The Only Other Man Visible Above The Mahogany, It Occurred To My Uncle That It Was Almost Time To Think About Going.

Vengeance And Retribution Require A Long Time; It Is The Rule.

"vell," Said Mr. Weller, "now I S'pose He'll Want To Call Some Witnesses To Speak To His Character, Or P'raps To Prove A Alleybi. I've Been A Turnin' The Bis'ness Over In My Mind, And He May Make His-self Easy, Sammy. I've Got Some Friends As'll Do Either For Him, But My Adwice 'ud Be This Here-never Mind The Character, And Stick To The Alleybi. Nothing Like A Alleybi, Sammy, Nothing."

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.

A Wonderful Fact To Reflect Upon, That Every Human Creature Is Constituted To Be That Profound Secret And Mystery To Every Other. A Solemn Consideration, When I Enter A Great City By Night, That Every One Of Those Darkly Clustered Houses Encloses Its Own Secret; That Every Room In Every One Of Them Encloses Its Own Secret; That Every Beating Heart In The Hundreds Of Thousands Of Breasts There, Is, In Some Of Its Imaginings, A Secret To The Heart Nearest It!

Heaven Above Was Blue, And Earth Beneath Was Green; The River Glistened Like A Path Of Diamonds In The Sun; The Birds Poured Forth Their Songs From The Shady Trees; The Lark Soared High Above The Waving Corn; And The Deep Buzz Of Insects Filled The Air.

Christmas A Humbug, Uncle!" Said Scrooge's Nephew. "you Don't Mean That, I Am Sure?" "i Do," Said Scrooge. "merry Christmas! What Right Have You To Be Merry? What Reason Have You To Be Merry? You're Poor Enough.

Merry Christmas

Love, Though Said To Be Afflicted With Blindness, Is A Vigilant Watchman.

We Must Leave The Discovery Of This Mystery, Like All Others, To Time, And Accident, And Heaven's Pleasure.

There Are People Enough To Tread Upon Me In My Lowly State, Without My Doing Outrage To Their Feelings By Possessing Learning. Learning Ain't For Me. A Person Like Myself Had Better Not Aspire. If He Is To Get On In Life, He Must Get On 'umbly, Master Copperfield!

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.

You Touch Some Of The Reasons For My Going, Not For My Staying Away.

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

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.

....that The Mounds Of Ices, And The Bowls Of Mint-julep And Sherry Cobbler They Make In These Latitudes, Are Refreshments Never To Be Thought Of Afterwards, In Summer, By Those Who Would Preserve Contented Minds.

We Must Meet Reverses Boldly, And Not Suffer Them To Frighten Us, My Dear. We Must Learn To Act The Play Out. We Must Live Misfortune Down, Trot!

Flora, Always Tall, Had Grown To Be Very Broad Too, And Short Of Breath; But That Was Not Much. Flora, Whom He Had Left A Lily, Had Become A Peony; But That Was Not Much. Flora, Who Had Seemed Enchanting In All She Said And Thought, Was Diffuse And Silly. That Was Much. Flora, Who Had Been Spoiled And Artless Long Ago, Was Determined To Be Spoiled And Artless Now. That Was A Fatal Blow.

She Was More Than Human To Me. She Was A Fairy, A Sylph. I Don't Know What She Was, Anything That No One Ever Saw, And Everything That Everybody Ever Wanted. I Was Swallowed Up In An Abyss Of Love In An Instant. There Was No Pausing On The Brink, No Looking Down, Or Looking Back. I Was Gone, Headlong, Before I Had Sense To Say A Word To Her.

Novelties Please Less Than They Impress.

A Display Of Indifference To All The Actions And Passions Of Mankind Was Not Supposed To Be Such A Distinguished Quality At That Time, I Think, As I Have Observed It To Be Considered Since. I Have Known It Very Fashionable Indeed. I Have Seen It Displayed With Such Success, That I Have Encountered Some Fine Ladies And Gentlemen Who Might As Well Have Been Born Caterpillars.

Change Begets Change. Nothing Propagates So Fast. If A Man Habituated To A Narrow Circle Of Cares And Pleasures, Out Of Which He Seldom Travels, Step Beyond It, Though For Never So Brief A Space, His Departure From The Monotonous Scene On Which He Has Been An Actor Of Importance Would Seem To Be The Signal For Instant Confusion. The Mine Which Time Has Slowly Dug Beneath Familiar Objects Is Sprung In An Instant; And What Was Rock Before, Becomes But Sand And Dust.

I Have Been Very Fortunate In Worldly Matters; Many Men Have Worked Much Harder, And Not Succeeded Half So Well; But I Never Could Have Done What I Have Done, Without The Habits Of Punctuality, Order, And Diligence, Without The Determination To Concentrate Myself On One Object At A Time, No Matter How Quickly Its Successor Should Come Upon Its Heels, Which I Then Formed.

I Was A Blacksmith's Boy But Yesterday; I Am - What Shall I Say I Am Today?

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 Must Do Something Or I Shall Wear My Heart Away.

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.

The Men Who Learn Endurance, Are They Who Call The Whole World, Brother.

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

Words Of Wisdom

The Sum Of The Whole Is This: Walk And Be Happy, Walk And Be Healthy. "the Best Of All Ways To Lengthen Our Days" Is Not, As 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. The Wandering Man Knows Of Certain Ancients, Far Gone In Years, Who Have Staved Off Infirmities And Dissolution By Earnest Walking,-hale Fellows Close Upon Eighty And Ninety, But Brisk As Boys.

All Through It, I Have Known Myself To Be Quite Undeserving. 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- A Fire, However, Inseparable In Its Nature From Myself, Quickening Nothing, Lighting Nothing, Doing No Service, Idly Burning Away.

"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."

This Is A World Of Action, And Not Moping And Droning In.

The Streets Looked Small, Of Course. The Streets That We Have Only Seen As Children Always Do I Believe When We Go Back To Them

It Is, As Mr. Rokesmith Says, A Matter Of Feeling, But Lor How Many Matters Are Matters Of Feeling!

Words Of Wisdom

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

Christmas Carol

I Wish I Were The Commander In Chief In India... I Should Do My Utmost To Exterminate The Race Upon Whom The Stain Of The Late Cruelties Rested.

Electric Communication Will Never Be A Substitute For The Face Of Someone Who With Their Soul Encourages Another Person To Be Brave And True.

Thought Provoking

If The Law Supposes That,' Said Mr Bumble...' The Law Is An Ass - An Idiot.

It Is A Principle Of His That No Man Who Was Not A True Gentleman At Heart, Ever Was, Since The World Began, A True Gentleman In Manner. He Says, No Varnish Can Hide The Grain Of The Wood; And That The More Varnish You Put On, The More The Grain Will Express Itself.

"ghost Of The Future," He Exclaimed, "i Fear You More Than Any Spectre I Have Seen. But As I Know Your Purpose Is To Do Me Good, And As I Hope To Live To Be Another Man From What I Was, I Am Prepared To Bear You Company, And Do It With A Thankful Heart. Will You Not Speak To Me?"

She Dotes On Poetry, Sir. She Adores It; I May Say That Her Whole Soul And Mind Are Wound Up, And Entwined With It. She Has Produced Some Delightful Pieces, Herself, Sir. You May Have Met With Her 'ode To An Expiring Frog,' Sir.

He Was Touched In The Cavity Where His Heart Should Have Been, In That Nest Of Addled Eggs, Where The Birds Of Heaven Would Have Lived If They Had Not Been Whistled Away, By The Fervour Of This Reproach.

And When It Has Got In; As One Not Finding What It Seeks, Whatever That May Be, It Wails And Howls To Issue Forth Again: And Not Content With Stalking Through The Aisles, And Gliding Round And Round The Pillars, And Tempting The Deep Organ, Soars Up To The Roof, And Strives To Rend The Rafters: Then Flings Itself Despairingly Upon The Stones Below, And Passes, Muttering, Into The Vaults.

It Is A Silent, Shady Place, With A Paved Courtyard So Full Of Echoes, That Sometimes I Am Tempted To Believe That Faint Responses To The Noises Of Old Times Linger There Yet, And That These Ghosts Of Sound Haunt My Footsteps As I Pace It Up And Down.

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.

Her Heart-is Given Him, With All Its Love And Truth. She Would Joyfully Die With Him, Or, Better Than That, Die For Him. She Knows He Has Failings, But She Thinks They Have Grown Up Through His Being Like One Cast Away, For The Want Of Something To Trust In, And Care For, And Think Well Of.

Money And Goods Are Certainly The Best Of References.

The Rich, Sweet Smell Of The Hayricks Rose To His Chamber Window; The Hundred Perfumes Of The Little Flower-garden Beneath Scented The Air Around; The Deep-green Meadows Shone In The Morning Dew That Glistened On Every Leaf As It Trembled In The Gentle Air: And The Birds Sang As If Every Sparkling Drop Were A Fountain Of Inspiration To Them.

Ah, Miss Harriet, It Would Do Us No Harm To Remember Oftener Than We Do, That Vices Are Sometimes Only Virtues Carried To Excess!

Your Honour, Unless Your Honour, Without A Moment's Loss Of Time, Makes Sail For The Nearest Shore, This Is A Doomed Ship, And Her Name Is The Coffin!

Send Forth The Child And Childish Man Together, And Blush For The Pride That Libels Our Own Old Happy State, And Gives Its Title To An Ugly And Distorted Image.

I See A Beautiful City And A Brilliant People Rising From This Abyss. I See The Lives For Which I Lay Down My Life, Peaceful, Useful, Prosperous And Happy. I See That I Hold A Sanctuary In Their Hearts, And In The Hearts Of Their Descendants, Generations Hence. It Is A Far, Far Better Thing That I Do, Than I Have Ever Done; It Is A Far, Far Better Rest That I Go To Than I Have Ever Known.

I Can See Others In The Sunlight; I Can See Our Boats' Crews And Our Athletic Young Men On The Glistening Water, Or Speckled With The Moving Lights Of Sunlit Leaves; But I Myself Am Always In The Shadow Looking On. Not Unsympathetically, - God Forbid! - But Looking On Alone, Much As I Looked At Sylvia From The Shadows Of The Ruined House, Or Looked At The Red Gleam Shining Through The Farmer's Windows, And Listened To The Fall Of Dancing Feet, When All The Ruin Was Dark That Night In The Quadrangle.

I Mean A Man Whose Hopes And Aims May Sometimes Lie (as Most Men's Sometimes Do, I Dare Say) Above The Ordinary Level, But To Whom The Ordinary Level Will Be High Enough After All If It Should Prove To Be A Way Of Usefulness And Good Service Leading To No Other. All Generous Spirits Are Ambitious, I Suppose, But The Ambition That Calmly Trusts Itself To Such A Road, Instead Of Spasmodically Trying To Fly Over It, Is Of The Kind I Care For.

For The Rest Of His Life, Oliver Twist Remembers A Single Word Of Blessing Spoken To Him By Another Child Because This Word Stood Out So Strikingly From The Consistent Discouragement Around Him.

The Wine-shops Breed, In Physical Atmosphere Of Malaria And A Moral Pestilence Of Envy And Vengeance, The Men Of Crime And Revolution.

That Sort Of Half Sigh, Which, Accompanied By Two Or Three Slight Nods Of The Head, Is Pity's Small Change In General Society.

I Will Live In The Past, The Present, And The Future. The Spirits Of All Three Shall Strive Within Me.

Mr Lorry Asks The Witness Questions: Ever Been Kicked? Might Have Been. Frequently? No. Ever Kicked Down Stairs? Decidedly Not; Once Received A Kick At The Top Of A Staircase, And Fell Down Stairs Of His Own Accord.

He Had A Certain Air Of Being A Handsome Man-which He Was Not; And A Certain Air Of Being A Well-bred Man-which He Was Not. It Was Mere Swagger And Challenge; But In This Particular, As In Many Others, Blustering Assertion Goes For Proof, Half Over The World.

To Have A Cricket On The Hearth Is The Luckiest Thing In All The World!

Oh Agnes, Oh My Soul, So May Thy Face Be By Me When I Close My Life Indeed; So May I, When Realities Are Melting From Me, Like The Shadows Which I Now Dismiss, Still Find Thee Near Me, Pointing Upward!

Let Us Be Moral. Let Us Contemplate Existence.

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.

Poor Mr. Pickwick! ... If He Played A Wrong Card, Miss Bolo Looked A Small Armoury Of Daggers; If He Stopped To Consider Which Was The Right One, Lady Snuphanuph Would Throw Herself Back In Her Chair, And Smile With A Mingled Glance Of Impatience And Pity To Mrs. Colonel Wugsby, At Which Mrs. Colonel Wugsby Would Shrug Up Her Shoulders, And Cough, As Much As To Say She Wondered Whether He Ever Would Begin.

Them Which Is Of Other Naturs Thinks Different.

. . . In Seclusion, She Had Secluded Herself From A Thousand Natural And Healing Influences; That, Her Mind, Brooding Solitary, Had Grown Diseased, As All Minds Do And Must And Will That Reverse The Appointed Order Of Their Maker . . .

Now, What I Want Is, Facts. . . . Facts Alone Are Wanted In Life.

For It Is Good To Be Children Sometimes, And Never Better Than At Christmas, When Its Mighty Founder Was A Child Himself.

‎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.

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.

The Great Grindstone, Earth, Had Turned When Mr. Lorry Looked Out Again, And The Sun Was Red On The Courtyard. But, The Lesser Grindstone Stood Alone There In The Calm Morning Air, With Red Upon It That The Sun Had Never Give, And Would Never Take Away.

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.

You Have Been So Careful Of Me That I Never Had A Child's Heart. You Have Trained Me So Well That I Never Dreamed A Child's Dream. You Have Dealt So Wisely With Me, Father ,from My Cradle To This Hour, That I Never Had A Child's Belief Or A Child's Fear. Mr. Gradgrind Was Quite Moved By His Success, And By This Testimony To It. " My Dear Louisa," Said He, You Abundantly Repay My Care. Kiss Me, My Dear Girl.

Life Is Made Of Ever So Many Partings Welded Together.

A Dream, All A Dream, That Ends In Nothing, And Leaves The Sleeper Where He Lay Down, But I Wish You To Know That You Inspired It.

There Is A Wisdom Of The Head, And A Wisdom Of The Heart.

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?

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?

She's The Sort Of Woman Now,' Said Mould, . . . 'one Would Almost Feel Disposed To Bury For Nothing: And Do It Neatly, Too!

... 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 Was A Cold Hard Easterly Morning When He Latched The Garden Gate And Turned Away. The Light Snowfall Which Had Feathered His Schoolroom Windows On The Thursday, Still Lingered In The Air, And Was Falling White, While The Wind Blew Black.

When A Man Bleeds Inwardly, It Is A Dangerous Thing For Himself; But When He Laughs Inwardly, It Bodes No Good To Other People.

... She Indulged In Melancholy - That Cheapest And Most Accessible Of Luxuries.

Missionaries Are Perfect Nuisances And Leave Every Place Worse Than They Found It.

So New To Him," She Muttered, "so Old To Me; So Strange To Him, So Familiar To Me; So Melancholy To Both Of Us!

Great Expectations

I Could Settle Down Into A State Of Equable Low Spirits, And Resign Myself To Coffee.

'do You Spell It With A 'v' Or A 'w'?' Inquired The Judge. 'that Depends Upon The Taste And Fancy Of The Speller, My Lord'.

But, Tears Were Not The Things To Find Their Way To Mr. Bumble's Soul; His Heart Was Waterproof.

Such Is Hope, Heaven's Own Gift To Struggling Mortals, Pervading, Like Some Subtle Essence From The Skies, All Things Both Good And Bad.

You Are Too Young To Know How The World Changes Everyday,' Said Mrs Creakle, 'and How The People In It Pass Away. But We All Have To Learn It, David; Some Of Us When We Are Young, Some Of Us When We Are Old, Some Of Us At All Times In Our Lives.

Time Was With Most Of Us, When Christmas Day, Encircling All Our Limited World Like A Magic Ring, Left Nothing Out For Us To Miss Or Seek; Bound Together All Our Home Enjoyments, Affections, And Hopes; Grouped Everything And Everyone Round The Christmas Fire, And Make The Little Picture Shining In Our Bright Young Eyes, Complete.

And What About The Cash, My Existence's Jewel?

I Loved Her Against Reason, Against Promise, Against Peace, Against Hope, Against Happiness, Against All Discouragement That Could Be.

There Are Books Of Which The Backs And Covers Are By Far The Best Parts.

It Was The Beginning Of A Day In June; The Deep Blue Sky Unsullied By A Cloud, And Teeming With Brilliant Light. The Streets Were, As Yet, Nearly Free From Passengers, The Houses And Shops Were Closed, And The Healthy Air Of Morning Fell Like Breath From Angels, On The Sleeping Town.

He Lived In Chambers That Had Once Belonged To His Deceased Partner. They Were A Gloomy Suite Of Rooms, In A Lowering Pile Of Building Up A Yard, Where It Had So Little Business To Be, That One Could Scarcely Help Fancying It Must Have Run There When It Was A Young House, Playing At Hide-and-seek With Other Houses, And Forgotten The Way Out Again.

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