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Day Was Breaking At Plashwater Weir Mill Lock. Stars Were Yet Visible, But There Was Dull Light In The East That Was Not The Light Of Night. The Moon Had Gone Down, And A Mist Crept Along The Banks Of The River, Seen Through Which The Trees Were The Ghosts Of Trees, And The Water Was The Ghost Of Water. This Earth Looked Spectral, And So Did The Pale Stars: While The Cold Eastern Glare, Expressionless As To Heat Or Colour, With The Eye Of The Firmament Quenched, Might Have Been Likened To The Stare Of The Dead.

-Charles Dickens

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Day Was Breaking At

Charles Dickens

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Day Was Breaking At Plashwater Weir Mill Lock. Stars Were Yet Visible, But There Was Dull Light In The East That Was Not The Light Of Night. The Moon Had Gone Down, And A Mist Crept Along The Banks Of The River, Seen Through Which The Trees Were The Ghosts Of Trees, And The Water Was The Ghost Of Water. This Earth Looked Spectral, And So Did The Pale Stars: While The Cold Eastern Glare, Expressionless As To Heat Or Colour, With The Eye Of The Firmament Quenched, Might Have Been Likened To The Stare Of The Dead.

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Dreams Are The Bright Creatures Of Poem And Legend, Who Sport On Earth In The Night Season, And Melt Away In The First Beam Of The Sun, Which Lights Grim Care And Stern Reality On Their Daily Pilgrimage Through The World.

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.

There Are Only Two Styles Of Portrait Painting; The Serious And The Smirk.

‎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 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.

A Merry Christmas To Everybody! A Happy New Year To All The World!

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.

But The Moon Came Slowly Up In All Her Gentle Glory, And The Stars Looked Out, And Through The Small Compass Of The Grated Window, As Through The Narrow Crevice Of One Good Deed In A Murky Life Of Guilt, The Face Of Heaven Shone Bright And Merciful. He Raised His Head; Gazed Upward At The Quiet Sky, Which Seemed To Smile Upon The Earth In Sadness, As If The Night, More Thoughtful Than The Day, Looked Down In Sorrow On The Sufferings And Evil Deeds Of Men; And Felt Its Peace Sink Deep Into His Heart.

You Have Been The Last Dream Of My Soul.

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

Men's Courses Will Foreshadow Certain Ends, To Which, If Persevered In, They Must Lead," Said Scrooge. "but If The Courses Be Departed From, The Ends Will Change.

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

A Mob Is Usually A Creature Of Very Mysterious Existence, Particularly In A Large City. Where It Comes From, Or Whither It Goes, Few Men Can Tell. Assembling And Dispersing With Equal Suddenness, It Is As Difficult To Follow To Its Various Sources As The Sea Itself; Nor Does The Parallel Stop Here, For The Ocean Is Not More Fickle And Uncertain, More Terrible When Roused, More Unreasonable Or More Cruel.

We Owed So Much To Herbert's Ever Cheerful Industry And Readiness, That I Often Wondered How I Had Conceived That Old Idea Of His Inaptitude, Until I Was One Day Enlightened By The Reflection, That Perhaps The Inaptitude Had Never Been In Him At All, But Had Been In Me.

Words Of Wisdom

"my Comfort Is," Said Susan, Looking Back At Mr. Dombey, "that I Have Told A Piece Of Truth This Day Which Ought To Have Been Told Long Before And Can't Be Told Too Often Or Too Plain..."

There Are Some Upon This Earth Of Yours,' Returned The Spirit, 'who Lay Claim To Know Us, And Who Do Their Deeds Of Passion, Pride, Ill-will, Hatred, Envy, Bigotry, And Selfishness In Our Name; Who Are As Strange To Us And All Our Kith And Kin, As If They Had Never Lived. Remember That, And Charge Their Doings On Themselves, Not Us.

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.

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

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.

There Are Hopes, The Bloom Of Whose Beauty Would Be Spoiled By The Trammels Of Description; Too Lovely, Too Delicate, Too Sacred For Words, They Should Only Be Known Through The Sympathy Of Hearts.

A Brisk, Bright, Blue-eyed Fellow, A Very Neat Figure And Rather Under The Middle Size, Never Out Of The Way And Never In It.

Darkness Is Cheap, And Scrooge Liked It.

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.

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

There Is A Passion For Hunting Something Deeply Implanted In The Human Breast.

For Your Popular Rumour, Unlike The Rolling Stone Of The Proverb, Is One Which Gathers A Deal Of Moss In Its Wanderings Up And Down.

"it Is A Sensation Not Experienced By Many Mortals," Said He, "to Be Looking Into A Churchyard On A Wild Windy Night, And To Feel That I No More Hold A Place Among The Living Than These Dead Do, And Even To Know That I Lie Buried Somewhere Else, As They Lie Buried Here. Nothing Uses Me To It. A Spirit That Was Once A Man Could Hardly Feel Stranger Or Lonelier, Going Unrecognized Among Mankind, Than I Feel."

The One Great Principle Of The English Law Is, To Make Business For Itself. There Is No Other Principle Distinctly, Certainly, And Consistently Maintained Through All Its Narrow Turnings.

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.

You Are Always Training Yourself To Be, Mind And Body, As Clear As Crystal, And You Always Are, And Never Change; Whereas I Am A Muddy, Solitary, Moping Weed.

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.

A Wonderful Fact To Reflect Upon, That Every Human Creature Is Constituted To Be That Profound Secret And Mystery To Every Other.

Reflecting Upon

For Though We Are Perpetually Bragging Of It As Our Safety, It Is Nothing But A Poor Fringe On The Mantle Of The Upper.

The Appearance Presented By The Streets Of London An Hour Before Sunrise, On A Summer's Morning, Is Most Striking Even To The Few Whose Unfortunate Pursuits Of Pleasure, Or Scarcely Less Unfortunate Pursuits Of Business, Cause Them To Be Well Acquainted With The Scene. There Is An Air Of Cold, Solitary Desolation About The Noiseless Streets Which We Are Accustomed To See Thronged At Other Times By A Busy, Eager Crowd, And Over The Quiet, Closely-shut Buildings, Which Throughout The Day Are Swarming With Life And Bustle, That Is Very Impressive.

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

And I Am Bored To Death With It. Bored To Death With This Place, Bored To Death With My Life, Bored To Death With Myself.

He Has The Power To Render Us Happy Or Unhappy; To Make Our Service Light Or Burdensome; A Pleasure Or A Toil. Say That His Power Lies In Words And Looks; In Things So Slight And Insignificant That It Is Impossible To Add And Count 'em Up: What Then? The Happiness He Gives, Is Quite As Great As If It Cost A Fortune.

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

Are There No Prisons?

Never Sign A Valentine With Your Own Name.

It Is A Pleasant World We Live In, Sir, A Very Pleasant World. There Are Bad People In It, Mr. Richard, But If There Were No Bad People, There Would Be No Good Lawyers.

The Broken Heart. You Think You Will Die, But You Just Keep Living, Day After Day After Terrible Day.

Keep Out Of Chancery. It's Being Ground To Bits In A Slow Mill; It's Being Roasted At A Slow Fire; It's Being Stung To Death By Single Bees; It's Being Drowned By Drops; It's Going Mad By Grains.

When Men Are About To Commit, Or Sanction The Commission Of Some Injustice, It Is Not Uncommon For Them To Express Pity For The Object Either Of That Or Some Parallel Proceeding, And To Feel Themselves, At The Time, Quite Virtuous And Moral, And Immensely Superior To Those Who Express No Pity At All. This Is A Kind Of Upholding Of Faith Above Works, And Is Very Comfortable.

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. To Begin My Life With The Beginning Of My Life, I Record That I Was Born (as I Have Been Informed And Believe) On A Friday, At Twelve O’clock At Night. It Was Remarked That The Clock Began To Strike, And I Began To Cry, Simultaneously.

In Truth, No Men On Earth Can Cheer Like Englishmen, Who Do So Rally One Another's Blood And Spirit When They Cheer In Earnest, That The Stir Is Like The Rush Of Their Whole History, With All Its Standards Waving At Once, From Saxon Alfred's Downwards.

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

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

Old Marley Was Dead As A Doornail... The Wisdom Of Our Ancestors Is In The Simile.

There Wasn't Room To Swing A Cat There.

It Had Grown Darker As They Talked, And The Wind Was Sawing And The Sawdust Was Whirling Outside Paler Windows. The Underlying Churchyard Was Already Settling Into Deep Dim Shade, And The Shade Was Creeping Up To The Housetops Among Which They Sat. "as If," Said Eugene, "as If The Churchyard Ghosts Were Rising."

When I Speak Of Home, I Speak Of The Place Where In Default Of A Better--those I Love Are Gathered Together; And If That Place Where A Gypsy's Tent, Or A Barn, I Should Call It By The Same Good Name Notwithstanding.

Some Of The Craftiest Scoundrels That Ever Walked This Earth . . . Will Gravely Jot Down In Diaries The Events Of Every Day, And Keep A Regular Debtor And Creditor Account With Heaven, Which Shall Always Show A Floating Balance In Their Own Favour.

Words Of Wisdom

It Is Known, To The Force Of A Single Pound Weight, What The Engine Will Do; But, Not All The Calculators Of The National Debt Can Tell Me The Capacity For Good Or Evil, For Love Or Hatred, For Patriotism Or Discontent, For The Decomposition Of Virtue Into Vice, Or The Reverse.

The One Great Principle Of The English Law Is, To Make Business For Itself. There Is No Other Principle Distinctly, Certainly, And Consistently Maintained Through All Its Narrow Turnings. Viewed By This Light It Becomes A Coherent Scheme, And Not The Monstrous Maze The Laity Are Apt To Think It. Let Them But Once Clearly Perceive That Its Grand Principle Is To Make Business For Itself At Their Expense, And Surely They Will Cease To Grumble.

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

One Great Blemish In The Popular Mind Of America And The Prolific Parent Of An Innumerable Brood Of Evils, Is Universal Distrust . . . You No Sooner Set Up An Idol Firmly, Than You Are Sure To Pull It Down And Dash It Into Fragments: And This Because Directly You Reward A Benefactor, Or A Public Servant, You Distrust Him, Merely Because He Is Rewarded . . . . Any Man Who Attains A High Place Among You, From The President Downwards, May Date His Downfall From That Moment.

Mrs. Boffin, Insisting That Bella Should Make Tomorrow's Expedition In The Chariot, She Went Home In Great Grandeur. Mrs. Wilfer And Miss Lavinia Had Speculated Much On The Probabilities And Improbabilities Of Her Coming In This Gorgeous State, And, On Beholding The Chariot From The Window At Which They Were Secreted To Look Out For It, Agreed That It Must Be Detained At The Door As Long As Possible, For The Mortification And Confusion Of The Neighbours.

Around And Around The House The Leaves Fall Thick, But Never Fast, For They Come Circling Down With A Dead Lightness That Is Sombre And Slow.

"hope To The Last!" Said Newman, Clapping Him On The Back. "always Hope; That's Dear Boy. Never Leave Off Hoping; It Don't Answer. Do You Mind Me, Nick? It Don't Answer. Don't Leave A Stone Unturned. It's Always Something, To Know You've Done The Most You Could. But, Don't Leave Off Hoping, Or It's Of No Use Doing Anything. Hope, Hope, To The Last!"

There Seems A Magic In The Very Name Of Christmas.

Bring In The Bottled Lightning, A Clean Tumbler, And A Corkscrew.

O, If The Deeds Of Human Creatures Could Be Traced To Their Source, How Beautiful Would Even Death Appear; For How Much Charity, Mercy, And Purified Affection Would Be Seen To Have Their Growth In Dusty Graves!

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.

Lawyers Are Shy Of Meddling With The Law On Their Own Account: Knowing It To Be An Edged Tool Of Uncertain Application, Very Expensive In The Working, And Rather Remarkable For Its Properties Of Close Shaving Than For Its Always Shaving The Right Person.

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.

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

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.

A Commission Of Haberdashers Could Alone Have Reported What The Rest Of Her Poor Dress Was Made Of, But It Had A Strong General Resemblance To Seaweed, With Here And There A Gigantic Tea-leaf. Her Shawl Looked Particularly Like A Tea-leaf After Long Infusion.

He Did Each Single Thing As If He Did Nothing Else.

Interesting Characters

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 Is Not Easy To Walk Alone In The Country Without Musing Upon Something.

It Is A Pleasant Thing To Reflect Upon, And Furnishes A Complete Answer To Those Who Contend For The Gradual Degeneration Of The Human Species, That Every Baby Born Into The World Is A Finer One Than The Last.

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.

The Leprosy Of Unreality Disfigured Every Human Creature In Attendance.

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

Words Of Wisdom

To Be Allowed To Call Her "dora", To Write To Her, To Dote Upon And Worship Her, To Have Reason To Think That When She Was With Other People She Was Yet Mindful Of Me, Seemed To Me The Summit Of Human Ambition - I Am Sure It Was The Summit Of Mine.

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.

Family Not Only Need To Consist Of Merely Those Whom We Share Blood, But Also For Those Whom We'd Give Blood.

A Good Thing Can't Be Cruel.

Train Up A Fig Tree In The Way It Should Go, And When You Are Old Sit Under The Shade Of It.

Sir," Returned Mrs. Sparsit, " I Cannot Say That I Have Heard Him Precisely Snore, And Therefore Must Not Make That Statement. But On Winter Evenings, When He Has Fallen Asleep At His Table, I Have Heard Him, What I Should Prefer To Describe As Partially Choke. I Have Heard Him On Such Occasions Produce Sounds Of A Nature Similar To What May Be Heard In Dutch Clocks. Not," Said Mrs. Sparsit, With A Lofty Sense Of Giving Strict Evidence, " That I Would Convey Any Imputation On His Moral Character. Far From It.

The Whole Difference Between Construction And Creation Is Exactly This: That A Thing Constructed Can Only Be Loved After It Is Constructed; But A Thing Created Is Loved Before It Exists.

Perhaps Second-hand Cares, Like Second-hand Clothes, Come Easily Off And On.

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

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

I Want To Escape From Myself. For When I Do Start Up And Stare Myself Seedily In The Face, As Happens To Be My Case At Present, My Blankness Is Inconceivable--indescribable--my Misery Amazing.

We Must Scrunch Or Be Scrunched.

They Whirled Past The Dark Trees, As Feathers Would Be Swept Before A Hurricane. Houses, Gates, Churches, Hay-stacks, Objects Of Every Kind They Shot By, With A Velocity And Noise Like Roaring Waters Suddenly Let Loose. Still The Noise Of Pursuit Grew Louder, And Still My Uncle Could Hear The Young Lady Wildly Screaming, "faster! Faster!"

It Was A Harder Day's Journey Than Yesterday's, For There Were Long And Weary Hills To Climb; And In Journeys, As In Life, It Is A Great Deal Easier To Go Down Hill Than Up. However, They Kept On, With Unabated Perseverance, And The Hill Has Not Yet Lifted Its Face To Heaven That Perseverance Will Not Gain The Summit Of At Last.

In This Way They Went On, And On, And On-in The Language Of The Story-books-until At Last The Village Lights Appeared Before Them, And The Church Spire Cast A Long Reflection On The Graveyard Grass; As If It Were A Dial (alas, The Truest In The World!) Marking, Whatever Light Shone Out Of Heaven, The Flight Of Days And Weeks And Years, By Some New Shadow On That Solemn Ground.

The Boy Was Lying, Fast Asleep, On A Rude Bed Upon The Floor; So Pale With Anxiety, And Sadness, And The Closeness Of His Prison, That He Looked Like Death; Not Death As It Shews In Shroud And Coffin, But In The Guise It Wears When Life Has Just Departed; When A Young And Gentle Spirit Has, But An Instant, Fled To Heaven: And The Gross Air Of The World Has Not Had Time To Breathe Upon The Changing Dust It Hallowed.

He Went To Church, And Walked About The Streets, And Watched The People Hurrying To And Fro, And Patted Children On The Head, And Questioned Beggars, And Looked Down Into The Kitchens Of Houses, And Up To The Windows; And Found That Everything Could Yield Him Pleasure. He Had Never Dreamed That Any Walk — That Anything — Could Give Him So Much Happiness.

... What Such People Miscall Their Religion, Is A Vent For Their Bad Humours And Arrogance.

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.

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

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

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.

Under None Of The Accredited Ghostly Circumstances, And Environed By None Of The Conventional Ghostly Surroundings, Did I First Make Acquaintance With The House Which Is The Subject Of This Christmas Piece. I Saw It In The Daylight, With The Sun Upon It. There Was No Wind, No Rain, No Lightning, No Thunder, No Awful Or Unwonted Circumstance, Of Any Kind, To Heighten Its Effect.

Captain Cuttle, Like All Mankind, Little Knew How Much Hope Had Survived Within Him Under Discouragement, Until He Felt Its Death-shock.

Words Of Wisdom

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.

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

Some Medical Beast Had Revived Tar-water In Those Days As A Fine Medicine, And Mrs. Joe Always Kept A Supply Of It In The Cupboard; Having A Belief In Its Virtues Correspondent To Its Nastiness. At The Best Of Times, So Much Of This Elixir Was Administered To Me As A Choice Restorative, That I Was Conscious Of Going About, Smelling Like A New Fence.

"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?"

Our Affections, However Laudable, In This Transitory World, Should Never Master Us; We Should Guide Them, Guide Them.

But The Sun Itself, However Beneficent, Generally, Was Less Kind To Coketown Than Hard Frost, And Rarely Looked Intently Into Any Of Its Closer Regions Without Engendering More Death Than Life. So Does The Eye Of Heaven Itself Become An Evil Eye, When Incapable Or Sordid Hands Are Interposed Between It And The Thing It Looks Upon To Bless.

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

"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?"

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.

Go Ye, Who Rest So Placidly Upon The Sacred Bard Who Had Been Young, And When He Strung His Harp Was Old, And Had Never Seen The Righteous Forsaken, Or His Seed Begging Their Bread; Go, Teachers Of Content And Honest Pride, Into The Mine, The Mill, The Forge, The Squalid Depths Of Deepest Ignorance, And Uttermost Abyss Of Man's Neglect, And Say Can Any Hopeful Plant Spring Up In Air So Foul That It Extinguishes The Soul's Bright Torch As Fast As It Is Kindled!

A Tender Young Cork, However, Would Have Had No More Chance Against A Pair Of Corkscrews, Or A Tender Young Tooth Against A Pair Of Dentists, Or A Little Shuttlecock Against Two Battledores, Than I Had Against Uriah And Mrs. Heep. They Did Just What They Liked With Me; And Wormed Things Out Of Me That I Had No Desire To Tell, With A Certainty I Blush To Think Of.

We Need Never Be Ashamed Of Our Tears.

We Went Our Several Ways," Said Lady Dedlock, "and Had Little In Common Even Before We Agreed To Differ. It Is To Be Regretted, I Suppose, But It Could Not Be Helped.

Nothing Ever Happened On This Globe, For Good, At Which Some People Did Not Have Their Fill Of Laughter In The Onset; And Knowing That Such As These Would Be Blind Anyway, He Thought It Quite As Well That They Should Wrinkle Up Their Eyes In Grins, As Have A Malady In The Less Attractive Forms.

It Is The Fate Of Most Men Who Mingle With The World, And Attain Even The Prime Of Life, To Make Many Real Friends, And Lose Them In The Course Of Nature. It Is The Fate Of All Authors Or Chroniclers To Create Imaginary Friends, And Lose Them In The Course Of Art. Nor Is This The Full Extent Of Their Misfortunes; For They Are Required To Furnish An Account Of Them Besides.

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.

... 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.

The Sergeant Was Describing A Military Life. It Was All Drinking, He Said, Except That There Were Frequent Intervals Of Eating And Love Making.

A Loving Heart Is The Truest Wisdom.

....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.

It Was The Momentary Yielding Of A Nature That Had Been Disappointed From The Dawn Of Its Perceptions, But Had Not Quite Given Up All Its Hopeful Yearnings Yet.

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.

Trifles Make The Sum Of Life.

Words Of Wisdom

... Herbert Said Of Himself, With His Eyes Fixed On The Fire, That He Thought He Must Have Committed A Felony And Forgotten The Details Of It, He Felt So Dejected And Guilty.

The Secretary, Working In The Dismal Swamp Betimes Next Morning, Was Informed That A Youth Waited In The Hall Who Gave The Name Of Sloppy. The Footman Who Communicated This Intelligence Made A Decent Pause Before Uttering The Name, To Express That It Was Forced On His Reluctance By The Youth In Question, And That If The Youth Had Had The Good Sense And Good Taste To Inherit Some Other Name It Would Have Spared The Feelings Of Him The Bearer.

All Knives And Forks Were Working Away At A Rate That Was Quite Alarming; Very Few Words Were Spoken; And Everybody Seemed To Eat His Utmost, In Self Defence, As If A Famine Were Expected To Set In Before Breakfast-time To-morrow Morning, And It Had Become High Time To Assert The First Law Of Nature.

A Man Is Lucky If He Is The First Love Of A Woman. A Woman Is Lucky If She Is The Last Love Of A Man.

If The Parks Be "the Lungs Of London" We Wonder What Greenwich Fair Is--a Periodical Breaking Out, We Suppose--a Sort Of Spring Rash.

"we Thought That, Perhaps," Said I, Hesitating, "it Is Right To Begin With The Obligations Of Home, Sir; And That, Perhaps, While Those Are Overlooked And Neglected, No Other Duties Can Possibly Be Substituted For Them."

Words Of Wisdom

Nobody Near Me Here, But Rats, And They Are Fine Stealthy Secret Fellows.

An Idea, Like A Ghost, Must Be Spoken To A Little Before It Will Explain Itself.

There Was A Long Hard Time When I Kept Far From Me The Remembrance Of What I Had Thrown Away When I Was Quite Ignorant Of Its Worth.

"next," Said Mrs Wilfer With A Wave Of Her Gloves, Expressive Of Abdication Under Protest From The Culinary Throne, "i Would Recommend Examination Of The Bacon In The Saucepan On The Fire, And Also Of The Potatoes By The Application Of A Fork. Preparation Of The Greens Will Further Become Necessary If You Persist In This Unseemly Demeanour."

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.

Her Contempt For Me Was So Strong, That It Became Infectious, And I Caught It.

Great Expectations

I Could Not Help Wondering In My Own Mind....how It Came To Pass That Our Joints Of Meat Were Of Such Extraordinary Shapes - And Whether Our Butcher Contracted For All The Deformed Sheep That Came Into The World; But I Kept My Reflections To Myself.

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.

There Once Was A Child, And He Strolled About A Good Deal, And Thought Of A Number Of Things. He Had A Sister, Who Was A Child Too, And His Constant Companion. These Two Used To Wonder All Day Long. They Wondered At The Beauty Of The Flowers; They Wondered At The Height And Blueness Of The Sky; They Wondered At The Depth Of The Bright Water; They Wondered At The Goodness And The Power Of God Who Made The Lovely World.

You Fear The World Too Much,' She Answered Gently. 'all Your Other Hopes Have Merged Into The Hope Of Being Beyond The Chance Of Its Sordid Reproach. I Have Seen Your Nobler Aspirations Fall Off, One By One, Until The Master Passion, Gain, Engrosses You. Have I Not?

For A Long Time, No Village Girl Would Dress Her Hair Or Bosom With The Sweetest Flower From That Field Of Death: And After Many A Year Had Come And Gone, The Berries Growing There, Were Still Believed To Leave Too Deep A Stain Upon The Hand That Plucked Them.

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.

"as I Think I Told You Once Before," Said I, "it Is You Who Have Been, In Your Greed And Cunning, Against All The World. It May Be Profitable To You To Reflect, In Future, That There Never Were Greed And Cunning In The World Yet, That Did Not Do Too Much, And Overreach Themselves. It Is As Certain As Death."

Words Of Wisdom

... 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.

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.

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.

There Is Nothing So Strong Or Safe In An Emergency Of Life As The Simple Truth.

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.

Stephen Blackpool Fall Into The Loneliest Of Lives, The Life Of Solitude Among A Familiar Crowd. The Stranger In The Land Who Looks Into Ten Thousand Faces For Some Answering Look And Never Finds It, Is In Cheering Society As Compared With Him Who Passes Ten Averted Faces Daily, That Were Once The Countenances Of Friends

And I Am Quite Serious When I Say That I Do Not Believe There Are, On The Whole Earth Besides, So Many Intensified Bores As In These United States.

Look Round And Round Upon This Bare Bleak Plain, And See Even Here, Upon A Winter's Day, How Beautiful The Shadows Are! Alas! It Is The Nature Of Their Kind To Be So. The Loveliest Things In Life... Are But Shadows; And They Come And Go, And Change And Fade Away, As Rapidly As These.

There's More Of Gravey Than Grave About You, Whatever You Are!" - Scrooge, Referring To Marley's Ghost Which He Believes Is A Hallucination From Food Poisoning

"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."

Reflect Upon Your Present Blessings

"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."

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

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 Can Refute Assertions, But Who Can Refute Silence?

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.

I Will Die Here Where I Have Walked. And I Will Walk Here, Though I Am In My Grave. I Will Walk Here Until The Pride Of This House Is Humbled.

Thus, It Comes To Pass, That A Certain Room In A Certain Old Hall, Where A Certain Bad Lord, Baronet, Knight, Or Gentleman, Shot Himself, Has Certain Planks In The Floor From Which The Blood Will Not Be Taken Out. You May Scrape And Scrape, As The Present Owner Has Done, Or Plane And Plane, As His Father Did, Or Scrub And Scrub, As His Grandfather Did, Or Burn And Burn With Strong Acids, As His Great-grandfather Did, But, There The Blood Will Still Be - No Redder And No Paler - No More And No Less - Always Just The Same.

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

And It Is Not A Slight Thing When They, Who Are So Fresh From God, Love Us.

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

"what Is Your Best, Your Very Best, Ale A Glass?" "two Pence Halfpenny," Says The Landlord, "is The Price Of The Genuine Stunning Ale." "then," Says I, Producing The Money, "just Draw Me A Glass Of The Genuine Stunning, If You Please, With A Good Head On It."

"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."

Joe Gave Me Some More Gravy.

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.

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

Battledore And Shuttlecock's A Wery Good Game, Vhen You An't The Shuttlecock And Two Lawyers The Battledores, In Which Case It Gets Too Exciting To Be Pleasant.

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

Eccentricities Of Genius.

I Wish You To Know That You Have Been The Last Dream Of My Soul...since I Knew You, I Have Been Troubled By A Remorse That I Thought Would Never Reproach Me Again, And Have Heard Whispers From Old Voices Impelling Me Upward, That I Thought Were Silent For Ever. I Have Had Unformed Ideas Of Striving Afresh, Beginning Anew, Shaking Off Sloth And Sensuality, And Fighting Out The Abandoned Fight. 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.

"o, Mrs. Clennam, Mrs. Clennam," Said Little Dorrit, "angry Feelings And Unforgiving Deeds Are No Comfort And No Guide To You And Me."

Words Of Wisdom

Mr. And Mrs. Boffin Sat Staring At Mid-air, And Mrs. Wilfer Sat Silently Giving Them To Understand That Every Breath She Drew Required To Be Drawn With A Self-denial Rarely Paralleled In History.

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 Subject At A Time.

Some Happy Talent, And Some Fortunate Opportunity, May Form The Two Sides Of The Ladder On Which Some Men Mount, But The Rounds Of That Ladder Must Be Made Of Stuff To Stand Wear And Tear; And There Is No Substitute For Thorough-going, Ardent, And Sincere Earnestness.

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.

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.

In A Word, I Was Too Cowardly To Do What I Knew To Be Right, As I Had Been Too Cowardly To Avoid Doing What I Knew To Be Wrong.

"i Am Not Afeard, My Heart's-delight," Resumed The Captain. "there's Been Most Uncommon Bad Weather In Them Latitudes, There's No Denyin', And They Have Drove And Drove And Been Beat Off, May Be T'other Side The World. But The Ship's A Good Ship, And The Lad's A Good Lad; And It Ain't Easy, Thank The Lord," The Captain Made A Little Bow, "to Break Up Hearts Of Oak, Whether They're In Brigs Or Buzzums."

And O There Are Days In This Life, Worth Life And Worth Death.

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

There Was A Frosty Rime Upon The Trees, Which, In The Faint Light Of The Clouded Moon, Hung Upon The Smaller Branches Like Dead Garlands. Withered Leaves Crackled And Snapped Beneath His Feet, As He Crept Softly On Towards The House. The Desolation Of A Winter Night Sat Brooding On The Earth, And In The Sky. But, The Red Light Came Cheerily Towards Him From The Windows; Figures Passed And Repassed There; And The Hum And Murmur Of Voices Greeted His Ear Sweetly.

"you See," Said Mr. Toots, "what I Wanted In A Wife Was - In Short, Was Sense. Money, Feeder, I Had. Sense I - I Had Not, Particularly."

"she's A Very Charming And Delightful Creature," Quoth Mr. Robert Sawyer, In Reply; "and Has Only One Fault That I Know Of, Ben. It Happens, Unfortunately, That That Single Blemish Is A Want Of Taste. She Don't Like Me."

Can I View Thee Panting, Lying On Thy Stomach, Without Sighing; Can I Unmoved See Thee Dying On A Log Expiring Frog!

Champagne Is Simply One Of The Elegant Extras Of Life.

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.

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!

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

An Evening Wind Uprose Too, And The Slighter Branches Cracked And Rattled As They Moved, In Skeleton Dances, To Its Moaning Music.

The American Woman Is A Monstrosity.

"i Take My Leave Of You, Mr. Creakle, And All Of You," Said Mr. Mell, Glancing Round The Room, And Again Patting Me Gently On The Shoulders. "james Steerforth, The Best Wish I Can Leave You Is That You May Come To Be Ashamed Of What You Have Done Today. At Present I Would Prefer To See You Anything Rather Than A Friend, To Me, Or To Anyone In Whom I Feel An Interest."

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.

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

A Demd, Damp, Moist, Unpleasant Body!

"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."

She Writhes Under Her Life. A Woman More Angry, Passionate, Reckless, And Revengeful Never Lived.

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.

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