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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.

-Charles Dickens

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He Has The Power

Charles Dickens

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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.

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Come, Let's Be A Comfortable Couple And Take Care Of Each Other! How Glad We Shall Be, That We Have Somebody We Are Fond Of Always, To Talk To And Sit With.

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.

The World Belongs To Those Who Set Out To Conquer It Armed With Self Confidence And Good Humour.

Self Confidence

Upon The Purple Tree-tops Far Away, And On The Green Height Near At Hand Up Which The Shades Were Slowly Creeping, There Was An Equal Hush. Between The Real Landscape And Its Shadow In The Water, There Was No Division; Both Were So Untroubled And Clear, And, While So Fraught With Solemn Mystery Of Life And Death, So Hopefully Reassuring To The Gazer's Soothed Heart, Because So Tenderly And Mercifully Beautiful.

Opening Her Eyes Again, And Seeing Her Husband's Face Across The Table, She Leaned Forward To Give It A Pat On The Cheek, And Sat Down To Supper, Declaring It To Be The Best Face In The World.

Charity Begins At Home, And Justice Begins Next Door.

He Had A Sense Of His Dignity, Which Was Of The Most Exquisite Nature. He Could Detect A Design Upon It When Nobody Else Had Any Perception Of The Fact. His Life Was Made An Agony By The Number Of Fine Scalpels That He Felt To Be Incessantly Engaged In Dissecting His Dignity.

Every Idiot Who Goes About With A 'merry Christmas' On His Lips Should Be Boiled With His Own Pudding, And Buried With A Stake Of Holly Through His Heart.

Merry Christmas

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

The Earth Covered With A Sable Pall As For The Burial Of Yesterday; The Clumps Of Dark Trees, Its Giant Plumes Of Funeral Feathers, Waving Sadly To And Fro: All Hushed, All Noiseless, And In Deep Repose, Save The Swift Clouds That Skim Across The Moon, And The Cautious Wind, As, Creeping After Them Upon The Ground, It Stops To Listen, And Goes Rustling On, And Stops Again, And Follows, Like A Savage On The Trail.

The Leprosy Of Unreality Disfigured Every Human Creature In Attendance.

On Summer Evenings, When Every Flower, And Tree, And Bird, Might Have Better Addressed My Soft Young Heart, I Have In My Day Been Caught In The Palm Of A Female Hand By The Crown, Have Been Violently Scrubbed From The Neck To The Roots Of The Hair As A Purification For The Temple, And Have Then Been Carried Off Highly Charged With Saponaceous Electricity, To Be Steamed Like A Potato In The Unventilated Breath Of The Powerful Boanerges Boiler And His Congregation, Until What Small Mind I Had, Was Quite Steamed Out Of Me

I Am In The Theatrical Profession Myself, My Wife Is In The Theatrical Profession, My Children Are In The Theatrical Profession.i Had A Dog That Lived And Died In It From A Puppy; And My Chaise-pony Goes On, In Timour The Tartar.

For The Night-wind Has A Dismal Trick Of Wandering Round And Round A Building Of That Sort, And Moaning As It Goes; And Of Trying, With Its Unseen Hand, The Windows And The Doors; And Seeking Out Some Crevices By Which To Enter.

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.

Papa, Potatoes, Poultry, Prunes And Prism, Are All Very Good Words For The Lips.

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

Prowling About The Rooms, Sitting Down, Getting Up, Stirring The Fire, Looking Out The Window, Teasing My Hair, Sitting Down To Write, Writing Nothing, Writing Something And Tearing It Up...

We Know, Mr. Weller - We, Who Are Men Of The World - That A Good Uniform Must Work Its Way With The Women, Sooner Or Later.

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.

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.

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!

Are There No Prisons?

Change Begets Change. Nothing Propagates So Fast.

Words Of Wisdom

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.

How Beautiful You Are! You Are More Beautiful In Anger Than In Repose. I Don't Ask You For Your Love; Give Me Yourself And Your Hatred; Give Me Yourself And That Pretty Rage; Give Me Yourself And That Enchanting Scorn; It Will Be Enough For Me.

" ... It Is Not My Desire To Wound The Feelings Of Any Person With Whom I Am Connected In Family Bonds. I May Be A Hypocrite," Said Mr. Pecksniff, Cuttingly, "but I Am Not A Brute."

Man Is But Mortal: And There Is A Point Beyond Which Human Courage Cannot Extend. Mr. Pickwick Gazed Through His Spectacles For An Instant On The Advancing Mass, And Then Fairly Turned His Back And-we Will Not Say Fled; Firstly, Because It Is An Ignoble Term, And, Secondly, Because Mr. Pickwick's Figure Was By No Means Adapted For That Mode Of Retreat-he Trotted Away, At As Quick A Rate As His Legs Would Convey Him;.

Dignity, And Even Holiness Too, Sometimes, Are More Questions Of Coat And Waistcoat Than Some People Imagine.

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.

United Metropolitan Improved Hot Muffin And Crumpet Baking And Punctual Delivery Company.

The Night Crept On Apace, The Moon Went Down, The Stars Grew Pale And Dim, And Morning, Cold As They, Slowly Approached. Then, From Behind A Distant Hill, The Noble Sun Rose Up, Driving The Mists In Phantom Shapes Before It, And Clearing The Earth Of Their Ghostly Forms Till Darkness Came Again.

He Describes It As A Large Apartment, With A Red Brick Floor And A Capacious Chimney; The Ceiling Garnished With Hams, Sides Of Bacon, And Ropes Of Onions.

I Distress You; I Draw Fast To An End.

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

You Speak So Feelingly And So Manfully, Charles Darnay

"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."

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.

Minds, Like Bodies, Will Often Fall Into A Pimpled, Ill-conditioned State From Mere Excess Of Comfort.

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

We Are So Very 'umble.

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.

Good Never Come Of Such Evil, A Happier End Was Not In Nature To So Unhappy A Beginning.

Although A Skillful Flatterer Is A Most Delightful Companion If You Have Him All To Yourself, His Taste Becomes Very Doubtful When He Takes To Complimenting Other People.

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

Above All, One Hideous Figure Grew As Familiar As If It Had Been Before The General Gaze From The Foundations Of The World - The Figure Of The Sharp Female Called La Guillotine. It Was The Popular Theme For Jests; It Was The Best Cure For Headache, It Infallibly Prevented Hair From Turning Gray, It Imparted A Peculiar Delicacy To The Complexion, It Was The National Razor Which Shaved Close: Who Kissed La Guillotine Looked Through The Little Window And Sneezed Into The Sack.

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

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.

Think! I've Got Enough To Do, And Little Enough To Get For It, Without Thinking.

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

On The Eve Of Long Voyages Or An Absence Of Many Years, Friends Who Are Tenderly Attached Will Seperate With The Usual Look, The Usual Pressure Of The Hand, Planning One Final Interview For The Morrow, While Each Well Knows That It Is But A Poor Feint To Save The Pain Of Uttering That One Word, And The Meeting Will Never Be. Should Possibilities Be Worse To Bear Than Certainties?

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

Reflecting Upon

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.

You Have Been The Last Dream Of My Soul.

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

Come, Then," Returned The Nephew Gaily. "what Right Have You To Be Dismal? What Reason Have You To Be Morose? You're Rich Enough.

Christmas Carol

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.

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

Make Them Laugh, Make Them Cry, Make Them Wait.

Never Sign A Valentine With Your Own Name.

The Sun Himself Is Weak When He First Rises, And Gathers Strength And Courage As The Day Gets On.

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.

When We Came Within Sight Of The Sea, The Waves On The Horizon, Caught At Intervals Above The Rolling Abyss, Were Like Glimpses Of Another Shore With Towers And Buildings.

When The Wind Is Blowing And The Sleet Or Rain Is Driving Against The Dark Windows, I Love To Sit By The Fire, Thinking Of What I Have Read In Books Of Voyage And Travel.

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

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

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.

So, Mr. Chadband-of Whom The Persecutors Say That It Is No Wonder He Should Go On For Any Length Of Time Uttering Such Abominable Nonsense, But That The Wonder Rather Is That He Should Ever Leave Off, Having Once The Audacity To Begin-retires Into Private Life Until He Invests A Little Capital Of Supper In The Oil-trade.

Do All The Good You Can And Make As Little Fuss About It As Possible.

My Heart Is Set, As Firmly As Ever Heart Of Man Was Set On Woman. I Have No Thought, No View, No Hope, In Life Beyond Her; And If You Oppose Me In This Great Stake, You Take My Peace And Happiness In Your Hands, And Cast Them To The Wind.

You Anticipate What I Would Say, Though You Cannot Know How Earnestly I Say It, How Earnestly I Feel It, Without Knowing My Secret Heart, And The Hopes And Fears And Anxieties With Which It Has Long Been Laden. Dear Doctor Manette, I Love Your Daughter Fondly, Dearly, Disinterestedly, Devotedly. If Ever There Were Love In The World, I Love Her.

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

"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."

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.

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.

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.

'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'.

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.

If Her Eyes Had No Expression, It Was Probably Because They Had Nothing To Express. If She Had Few Wrinkles, It Was Because Her Mind Had Never Traced Its Name Or Any Other Inscription On Her Face.

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.

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.

Oliver Twist Has Asked For More!

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.

The Day Was Made For Laziness, And Lying On One's Back In Green Places, And Staring At The Sky Till Its Brightness Forced One To Shut One's Eyes And Go To Sleep.

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

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.

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.

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.

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

Christmas Carol

All Of Us Have Wonders Hidden In Our Breasts, Only Needing Circumstances To Evoke Them.

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.

The Sky Was Dark And Gloomy, The Air Was Damp And Raw, The Streets Were Wet And Sloppy. The Smoke Hung Sluggishly Above The Chimney-tops As If It Lacked The Courage To Rise, And The Rain Came Slowly And Doggedly Down, As If It Had Not Even The Spirit To Pour.

"but Even If He Has Been Wicked," Pursued Rose, "think How Young He Is; Think That He May Never Have Known A Mother's Love, Or The Comfort Of A Home; That Ill-usage And Blows, Or The Want Of Bread, May Have Driven Him To Herd With Men Who Have Forced Him To Guilt. Aunt, Dear Aunt, For Mercy's Sake, Think Of This, Before You Let Them Drag This Sick Child To A Prison, Which In Any Case Must Be The Grave Of All His Chances Of Amendment."

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

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.

Have You Ever Had The Sensation Of Looking At Someone For The First Time And Ever So Quickly The Past And Future Seem To Fuse ? Does That Not Mean Something ? That We Felt So Much, So Deeply, Before Even Speaking?

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.

Old Time, That Greatest And Longest Established Spinner Of All!... His Factory Is A Secret Place, His Work Is Noiseless, And His Hands Are Mutes.

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.

Others Had Been A Little Wild, Which Was Not To Be Wondered At, And Not Very Blamable; But, He Had Made A Lamentation And Uproar Which It Was Dangerous For The People To Hear, As There Is Always Contagion In Weakness And Selfishness.

Words Of Wisdom

... When He Saw Her Sitting There All Alone, So Young, And Good, And Beautiful, And Kind To Him; And Heard Her Thrilling Voice, So Natural And Sweet, And Such A Golden Link Between Him And All His Life's Love And Happiness, Rising Out Of The Silence; He Turned His Face Away, And Hid His Tears.

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

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.

Mr. Bazzard's Father, Being A Norfolk Farmer, Would Have Furiously Laid About Him With A Flail, A Pitch-fork, And Every Agricultural Implement Available For Assaulting Purposes, On The Slightest Hint Of His Son's Having Written A Play.

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.

Polly Put The Kettle On, We'll All Have Tea.

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.

The Cloud Of Caring For Nothing, Which Overshadowed Him With Such A Fatal Darkness, Was Very Rarely Pierced By The Light Within Him.

A Little Learning Is A Dangerous Thing, But A Little Patronage More So.

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.

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.

The Universe, He Observed, Makes Rather An Indifferent Parent, I Am Afraid.

Words Of Wisdom

There Was Not One Straight Floor From The Foundation To The Roof; The Ceilings Were So Fantastically Clouded By Smoke And Dust, That Old Women Might Have Told Fortunes In Them Better Than In Grouts Of Tea.

Marley Was Dead: To Begin With.

Christmas Carol

Some Philosophers Tell Us That Selfishness Is At The Root Of Our Best Loves And Affections. Mr. Dombey's Young Child Was, From The Beginning, So Distinctly Important To Him As A Part Of His Own Greatness, Or (which Is The Same Thing) Of The Greatness Of Dombey And Son, That There Is No Doubt His Parental Affection Might Have Been Easily Traced, Like Many A Goodly Superstructure Of Fair Fame, To A Very Low Foundation.

It May Be Only Small Injustice That The Child Can Be Exposed To; But The Child Is Small, And Its World Is Small, And Its Rocking-horse Stands As Many Hands High, According To Scale, As A Big-boned Irish Hunter.

All Other Swindlers Upon Earth Are Nothing To The Self-swindlers, And With Such Pretences Did I Cheat Myself.

Night, Like A Giant, Fills The Church, From Pavement To Roof, And Holds Dominion Through The Silent Hours. Pale Dawn Again Comes Peeping Through The Windows: And, Giving Place To Day, Sees Night Withdraw Into The Vaults, And Follows It, And Drives It Out, And Hides Among The Dead.

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.

This Fine Young Man Had All The Inclination To Be A Profligate Of The First Water, And Only Lacked The One Good Trait In The Common Catalogue Of Debauched Vices - Open-handedness - To Be A Notable Vagabond. But There His Griping And Penurious Habits Stepped In; And As One Poison Will Sometimes Neutralise Another, When Wholesome Remedies Would Not Avail, So He Was Restrained By A Bad Passion From Quaffing His Full Measure Of Evil, When Virtue Might Have Sought To Hold Him Back In Vain.

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

Subdue Your Appetites, My Dears, And You've Conquered Human Nature .

I Have A Heart To Be Stabbed In Or Shot In, I Have No Doubt, And, Of Course, If It Ceased To Beat, I Would Cease To Be. But You Know What I Mean. I Have No Softness There, No—sympathy—sentiment—nonsense.

... No, The Office Is One Thing, And Private Life Is Another. When I Go Into The Office, I Leave The Castle Behind Me, And When I Come Into The Castle, I Leave The Office Behind Me.

Words Of Wisdom

The Northern Onslaught Upon Slavery Was No More Than A Piece Of Specious Humbug Designed To Conceal Its Desire For Economic Control Of The Southern States.

To A Young Heart Everything Is Fun.

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

"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..."

Home Is Like The Ship At Sea, Sailing On Eternally; Oft The Anchor Forth We Cast, But Can Never Make It Fast.

"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."

And O There Are Days In This Life, Worth Life And Worth Death. And O What A Bright Old Song It Is, That O 'tis Love, 'tis Love, 'tis Love That Makes The World Go Round!

Remembrance, Like A Candle, Burns Brightest At Christmastime.

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.

We All Have Some Experience Of A Feeling, That Comes Over Us Occasionally, Of What We Are Saying And Doing Having Been Said And Done Before, In A Remote Time - Of Our Having Been Surrounded, Dim Ages Ago, By The Same Faces, Objects, And Circumstances.

An Observer Of Men Who Finds Himself Steadily Repelled By Some Apparently Trifling Thing In A Stranger Is Right To Give It Great Weight. It May Be The Clue To The Whole Mystery. A Hair Or Two Will Show Where A Lion Is Hidden. A Very Little Key Will Open A Very Heavy Door.

And, Unlike The Celebrated Herd In The Poem, They Were Not Forty Children Conducting Themselves As One, But Every Child Was Conducting Itself Like Forty.

A Man Must Take The Fat With The Lean.

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.

All The Housemaid Hopes Is, Happiness For 'em - But Marriage Is A Lottery, And The More She Thinks About It, The More She Feels The Independence And The Safety Of A Single Life.

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

Scattered Wits Take A Long Time In Picking Up.

No One Is Useless In This World Who Lightens The Burden Of It To Anyone Else.

"it Wasn't The Wine," Murmured Mr. Snodgrass, In A Broken Voice. "it Was The Salmon."

You Are In Every Line I Have Ever Read.

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.

He Would Make A Lovely Corpse.

I Made A Compact With Myself That In My Person Literature Should Stand By Itself, Of Itself, And For Itself.

Dombey And Son Had Often Dealt In Hides, But Never In Hearts. They Left That Fancy Ware To Boys And Girls, And Boarding-schools And Books. Mr. Dombey Would Have Reasoned: That A Matrimonial Alliance With Himself Must, In The Nature Of Things, Be Gratifying And Honourable To Any Woman Of Common Sense. That The Hope Of Giving Birth To A New Partner In Such A House, Could Not Fail To Awaken A Glorious And Stirring Ambition In The Breast Of The Least Ambitious Of Her Sex.

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.

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.

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

Ven You Read The Speeches In The Papers, And See As Vun Gen'lman Says Of Another, 'the Honourable Member, If He Vill Allow Me To Call Him So' You Vill Understand, Sir, That That Means, 'if He Vill Allow Me To Keep Up That 'ere Pleasant And Uniwersal Fiction.'

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.

Nothing Of What Is Nobly Done Is Ever Lost.

You May Be An Undigested Bit Of Beef, A Blot Of Mustard, A Crumb Of Cheese, A Fragment Of Underdone Potato. There's More Of Gravy Than Of Grave About You, Whatever You Are!

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.

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.

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

The Dreams Of Childhood - It's Airy Fables, Its Graceful, Beautiful, Humane, Impossible Adornments Of The World Beyond; So Good To Be Believed In Once, So Good To Be Remembered When Outgrown.

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.

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?

I Have Always Thought Of Christmas Time... As A Good Time; A Kind, Forgiving, Charitable, Pleasant Time.

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 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.

Many Merry Christmases, Many Happy New Years. Unbroken Friendships, Great Accumulations Of Cheerful Recollections And Affections On Earth, And Heaven For Us All.

"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."

... Still His Philanthropy Was Of That Gunpowderous Sort That The Difference Between It And Animosity Was Hard To Determine.

I Believe That The Heaviest Blow Ever Dealt At Liberty's Head Will Be Dealt By This Nation In The Ultimate Failure Of Its Example To The Earth.

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

My Advice Is To Never Do Tomorrow What You Can Do Today. Procrastination Is The Thief Of Time.

Procrastination

There Are Strings In The Human Heart That Had Better Not Be Vibrated.

Are You Thankful For Not Being Young?' 'yes, Sir. If I Was Young, It Would All Have To Be Gone Through Again, And The End Would Be A Weary Way Off, Don't You See?

The Expression Of A Man's Face Is Commonly A Help To His Thoughts, Or Glossary On His Speech; But The Countenance Of Newman Noggs, In His Ordinary Moods, Was A Problem Which No Stretch Of Ingenuity Could Solve.

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

Happy, Happy Christmas, That Can Win Us Back To The Delusions Of Our Childhood Days, Recall To The Old Man The Pleasures Of His Youth, And Transport The Traveler Back To His Own Fireside And Quiet Home!

Try Not To Associate Bodily Defect With Mental, My Good Friend, Except For A Solid Reason

I Only Ask To Be Free. The Butterflies Are Free. Mankind Will Surely Not Deny To Harold Skimpole What It Concedes To The Butterflies.

In The Little World In Which Children Have Their Existence, Whosoever Brings Them Up, There Is Nothing So Finely Perceived And So Finely Felt, As Injustice.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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

Philosophers Are Only Men In Armor After All.

Let Me Feel Now What Sharp Distress I May.

Great Expectations

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

I Think It Must Somewhere Be Written That The Virtues Of Mothers Shall Be Visited On Their Children, As Well As The Sins Of Their Fathers.

Surely There Had Been No Figure Leaning On The Back Of His Chair; No Face Looking Over It. It Is Certain That No Gliding Footstep Touched The Floor, As He Lifted Up His Head, With A Start, And Spoke. And Yet There Was No Mirror In The Room On Whose Surface His Own Form Could Have Cast Its Shadow For A Moment; And, Something Had Passed Darkly And Gone!

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

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".

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.

... The Sun Does Not Shine Upon This Fair Earth To Meet Frowning Eyes, Depend Upon It.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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