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It Was A Murky Confusion — Here And There Blotted With A Color Like The Color Of The Smoke From Damp Fuel — Of Flying Clouds Tossed Up Into Most Remarkable Heaps, Suggesting Greater Heights In The Clouds Than There Were Depths Below Them To The Bottom Of The Deepest Hollows In The Earth, Through Which The Wild Moon Seemed To Plunge Headlong, As If, In A Dread Disturbance Of The Laws Of Nature, She Had Lost Her Way And Were Frightened.

-Charles Dickens

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It Was A Murky

Charles Dickens

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It Was A Murky Confusion — Here And There Blotted With A Color Like The Color Of The Smoke From Damp Fuel — Of Flying Clouds Tossed Up Into Most Remarkable Heaps, Suggesting Greater Heights In The Clouds Than There Were Depths Below Them To The Bottom Of The Deepest Hollows In The Earth, Through Which The Wild Moon Seemed To Plunge Headlong, As If, In A Dread Disturbance Of The Laws Of Nature, She Had Lost Her Way And Were Frightened.

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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.

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

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

I Cannot Help It; Reason Has Nothing To Do With It; I Love Her Against Reason-but Who Would As Soon Love Me For My Own Sake, As She Would Love The Beggar At The Corner.

The Doctor Seemed Especially Troubled By The Fact Of The Robbery Having Been Unexpected, And Attempted In The Night-time; As If It Were The Established Custom Of Gentlemen In The Housebreaking Way To Transact Business At Noon, And To Make An Appointment, By The Twopenny Post, A Day Or Two Previous.

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

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.

We Forge The Chains We Wear In Life.

Law Of Attraction

But The Words She Spoke Of Mrs Harris, Lambs Could Not Forgive ... Nor Worms Forget.

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

Did It Ever Strike You On Such A Morning As This That Drowning Would Be Happiness And Peace?

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.

Reflect Upon Your Present Blessings Of Which Every Man Has Many - Not On Your Past Misfortunes, Of Which All Men Have Some.

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

"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."

A Very Little Key Will Open A Very Heavy Door.

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

The Word Of A Gentleman Is As Good As His Bond — Sometimes Better; As In The Present Case, Where His Bond Might Prove But A Doubtful Sort Of Security.

‎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.

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.

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.

At Last, In The Dead Of The Night, When The Street Was Very Still Indeed, Little Dorrit Laid The Heavy Head Upon Her Bosom, And Soothed Her To Sleep. And Thus She Sat At The Gate, As It Were Alone; Looking Up At The Stars, And Seeing The Clouds Pass Over Them In Their Wild Flight-which Was The Dance At Little Dorrit's Party.

There Is Not A Manufacturer Or Tradesman In Existence, Who Would Not Employ A Man Who Takes A Reasonable Degree Of Pride In The Appearance Of Himself And Those About Him, In Preference To A Sullen, Slovenly Fellow, Who Works Doggedly On, Regardless Of His Own Clothing And That Of His Wife And Children, And Seeming To Take Pleasure Or Pride In Nothing.

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

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

'i Believe, Mr. Snitchey,' Said Alfred, 'there Are Quiet Victories And Struggles, Great Sacrifices Of Self, And Noble Acts Of Heroism, In It - Even In Many Of Its Apparent Lightnesses And Contradictions - Not The Less Difficult To Achieve, Because They Have No Earthly Chronicle Or Audience - Done Every Day In Nooks And Corners, And In Little Households, And In Men's And Women's Hearts - Any One Of Which Might Reconcile The Sternest Man To Such A World, And Fill Him With Belief And Hope In It.

A New Heart For A New Year, Always!

"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 Sight Of Me Is Good For Sore Eyes

Oliver Twist Has Asked For More!

There Was A Piece Of Ornamental Water Immediately Below The Parapet, On The Other Side, Into Which Mr. James Harthouse Had A Very Strong Inclination To Pitch Mr. Thomas Gradgrind Junior.

Man," Said The Ghost, "if Man You Be In Heart, Not Adamant, Forbear That Wicked Cant Until You Have Discovered What The Surplus Is, And Where It Is. Will You Decide What Men Shall Live, What Men Shall Die?

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

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

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.

Any Man May Be In Good Spirits And Good Temper When He's Well Dressed. There Ain't Much Credit In That.

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

Words Of Wisdom

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.

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.

There Is Prodigious Strength In Sorrow And Despair.

Oh! Captive, Bound, And Double-ironed," Cried The Phantom, "not To Know, That Ages Of Incessant Labour, By Immortal Creatures, For This Earth Must Pass Into Eternity Before The Good Of Which It Is Susceptible Is All Developed. Not To Know That Any Christian Spirit Working Kindly In Its Little Sphere, Whatever It May Be, Will Find Its Mortal Life Too Short For Its Vast Means Of Usefulness. Not To Know That No Space Of Regret Can Make Amends For One Life's Opportunity Misused!

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.

Are There No Prisons?

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.

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

Anything For The Quick Life, As The Man Said When He Took The Situation At The Lighthouse.

Christmas Is A Poor Excuse Every 25th Of December To Pick A Man's Pockets.

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!"

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

No One Has The Least Regard For The Man; With Them All, He Has Been An Object Of Avoidance, Suspicion, And Aversion; But The Spark Of Life Within Him Is Curiously Separable From Himself Now, And They Have A Deep Interest In It, Probably Because It Is Life, And They Are Living And Must Die.

Words Of Wisdom

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

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

He Was Bolder In The Daylight-most Men Are.

Words Of Wisdom

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

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.

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

Ask No Questions, And You'll Be Told No Lies.

... 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.

There Was No Wind; There Was No Passing Shadow On The Deep Shade Of The Night; There Was No Noise. The City Lay Behind Him, Lighted Here And There, And Starry Worlds Were Hidden By The Masonry Of Spire And Roof That Hardly Made Out Any Shapes Against The Sky. Dark And Lonely Distance Lay Around Him Everywhere, And The Clocks Were Faintly Striking Two.

I Had Seen The Damp Lying On The Outside Of My Little Window, As If Some Goblin Had Been Crying There All Night, And Using The Window For A Pocket-handkerchief.

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.

He Had A Cringing Manner, But A Very Harsh Voice; And His Blandest Smiles Were So Extremely Forbidding, That To Have Had His Company Under The Least Repulsive Circumstances, One Would Have Wished Him To Be Out Of Temper That He Might Only Scowl.

It Is A Melancholy Truth That Even Great Men Have Their Poor Relations.

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

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

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.

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.

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

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

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.

This Is The Even-handed Dealing Of The World!" He Said. "there Is Noth-ing On Which It Is So Hard As Poverty; And There Is Nothing It Professes Tocondemn With Such Severity As The Pursuit Of Wealth!

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

Poetry's Unnat'ral; No Man Ever Talked Poetry 'cept A Beadle On Boxin' Day.

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

You Can Only Form The Minds Of Reasoning Animals Upon Facts: Nothing Else Will Ever Be Of Any Service To Them. Stick To Facts, Sir!

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

Of All Bad Listeners, The Worst And Most Terrible To Encounter Is The Man Who Is So Fond Of Listening That He Wishes To Hear, Not Only Your Conversation, But That Of Every Other Person In The Room.

I See That I Hold A Sanctuary In Their Hearts, And In The Hearts Of Their Descendants, Generations Hence. I See Her, An Old Woman, Weeping For Me On The Anniversary Of This Day. I See Her And Her Husband, Their Course Done, Lying Side By Side In Their Last Earthly Bed, And I Know That Each Was Not More Honoured And Held Sacred In The Other's Soul, Than I Was In The Souls Of Both.

"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."

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.

The Cramped Monotony Of My Existence Grinds Me Away By The Grain.

Home Is A Name, A Word, It Is A Strong One.

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

To Be Shelterless And Alone In The Open Country, Hearing The Wind Moan And Watching For Day Through The Whole Long Weary Night; To Listen To The Falling Rain, And Crouch For Warmth Beneath The Lee Of Some Old Barn Or Rick, Or In The Hollow Of A Tree; Are Dismal Things - But Not So Dismal As The Wandering Up And Down Where Shelter Is, And Beds And Sleepers Are By Thousands; A Houseless Rejected Creature.

I Am Not Old, But My Young Way Was Never The Way To Age.

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

[s]he Stood For Some Moments Gazing At The Sisters, With Affection Beaming In One Eye, And Calculation Shining Out Of The Other.

Ride On! Ride On Over All Obstacles And Win The Race.

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

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

So, Throughout Life, Our Worst Weaknesses And Meannesses Are Usually Committed For The Sake Of The People Whom We Most Despise.

Words Of Wisdom

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

You Might, From Your Appearance, Be The Wife Of Lucifer,” Said Miss Pross, In Her Breathing. “nevertheless, You Shall Not Get The Better Of Me. I Am An Englishwoman.

If I Dropped A Tear Upon Your Hand, May It Wither It Up! If I Spoke A Gentle Word In Your Hearing, May It Deafen You! If I Touched You With My Lips, May The Touch Be Poison To You! A Curse Upon This Roof That Gave Me Shelter! Sorrow And Shame Upon Your Head! Ruin Upon All Belonging To You!

... 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.

Surprises, Like Misfortunes, Seldom Come Alone.

Words Of Wisdom

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

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.

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

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

Repression Is The Only Lasting Philosophy. The Dark Deference Of Fear And Slavery, My Friend, Will Keep The Dogs Obedient To The Whip, As Long As This Roof Shuts Out The Sky.

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

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

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

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?

What I Want You To Be - I Don't Mean Physically But Morally: You Are Very Well Physically - Is A Firm Fellow, A Fine Firm Fellow, With A Will Of Your Own, With Resolution. With Determination. With Strength Of Character That Is Not To Be Influenced Except On Good Reason By Anybody, Or By Anything. That's What I Want You To Be. That's What Your Father, & Your Mother Might Both Have Been

I Distress You; I Draw Fast To An End.

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

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.

A Man Ain't Got No Right To Be A Public Man, Unless He Meets The Public Views.

... As Lonesome As A Kitten In A Wash-house Copper With The Lid On.

While The Flowers, Pale And Unreal In The Moonlight, Floated Away Upon The River; And Thus Do Greater Things That Once Were In Our Breasts, And Near Our Hearts, Flow From Us To The Eternal Sea.

Hallo! A Great Deal Of Steam! The Pudding Was Out Of The Copper. A Smell Like A Washing-day! That Was The Cloth. A Smell Like An Eating-house And A Pastrycook's Next Door To Each Other, With A Laundress's Next Door To That. That Was The Pudding.

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!

Friendship? Yes Please.

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.

Skewered Through And Through With Office-pens, And Bound Hand And Foot With Red Tape.

"ay," Said The Captain, Reverentially; "it's A Almighty Element. There's Wonders In The Deep, My Pretty. Think On It When The Winds Is Roaring And The Waves Is Rowling. Think On It When The Stormy Nights Is So Pitch Dark," Said The Captain, Solemnly Holding Up His Hook, "as You Can't See Your Hand Afore You, Excepting When The Wiwid Lightning Reweals The Same; And When You Drive, Drive, Drive Through The Storm And Dark, As If You Was A Driving, Head On, To The World Without End."

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.

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.

The Young Woman Who Brought Me Acquainted With Captain Murderer Had A Fiendish Enjoyment Of My Terrors, And Used To Begin, I Remember - As A Sort Of Introductory Overture - By Clawing The Air With Both Hands, And Uttering A Long Low Hollow Groan. So Acutely Did I Suffer From This Ceremony In Combination With This Infernal Captain, That I Sometimes Used To Plead I Thought I Was Hardly Strong Enough And Old Enough To Hear The Story Again Just Yet.

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.

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.

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

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

To See The Butcher Slap The Steak Before He Laid It On The Block, And Give His Knife A Sharpening, Was To Forget Breakfast Instantly. It Was Agreeable Too - It Really Was - To See Him Cut It Off So Smooth And Juicy. There Was Nothing Savage In The Act, Although The Knife Was Large And Keen; It Was A Piece Of Art, High Art; There Was Delicacy Of Touch, Clearness Of Tone, Skilful Handling Of The Subject, Fine Shading. It Was The Triumph Of Mind Over Matter; Quite.

Have A Heart That Never Hardens, And A Temper That Never Tires, And A Touch That Never Hurts.

Its Matter Was Not New To Me, But Was Presented In A New Aspect. It Shook Me In My Habit - The Habit Of Nine-tenths Of The World - Of Believing That All Was Right About Me, Because I Was Used To It.

Words Of Wisdom

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

"well, Well!" Said My Aunt. "i Only Ask. I Don't Depreciate Her. Poor Little Couple! And So You Think You Were Formed For One Another, And Are To Go Through A Party-supper-table Kind Of Life, Like Two Pretty Pieces Of Confectionery, Do You, Trot?"

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.

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.

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.

And What An Example Of The Power Of Dress Young Oliver Twist Was! Wrapped In The Blanket Which Had Hitherto Formed His Only Covering, He Might Have Been The Child Of A Nobleman Or A Beggar;—it Would Have Been Hard For The Haughtiest Stranger To Have Fixed His Station In Society. But Now He Was Enveloped In The Old Calico Robes, That Had Grown Yellow In The Same Service; He Was Badged And Ticketed, And Fell Into His Place At Once—a Parish Child—the Orphan Of A Workhouse—the Humble, Half-starved Drudge—to Be Cuffed And Buffeted Through The World, Despised By All, And Pitied By None.

"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!"

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

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

"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."

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.

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.

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

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

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

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.

Accidents Will Occur In The Best-regulated Families; And In Families Not Regulated By That Pervading Influence Which Sanctifies While It Enhances... In Short, By The Influence Of Woman, In The Lofty Character Of Wife, They May Be Expected With Confidence, And Must Be Borne With Philosophy.

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

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

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.

I Was So Humiliated, Hurt, Spurned, Offended, Angry, Sorry--i Cannot Hit Upon The Right Name For The Smart--god Knows What Its Name Was--that Tears Started To My Eyes.

I Find My Breath Gets Short, But It Seldom Gets Longer As A Man Gets Older. I Take It As It Comes, And Make The Most Of It. That's The Best Way, Ain't It?

Words Of Wisdom

Time And Tide Will Wait For No Man, Saith The Adage. But All Men Have To Wait For Time And Tide.

The Secret Was Such An Old One Now, Had So Grown Into Me And Become A Part Of Myself, That I Could Not Tear It Away.

Great Expectations

Mankind Was My Business... Charity, Mercy, Forbearance, Benevolence, Were All My Business.

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

In Particular, There Was A Butler In A Blue Coat And Bright Buttons, Who Gave Quite A Winey Flavour To The Table Beer; He Poured It Out So Superbly.

She Had Curiously Thoughtful And Attentive Eyes; Eyes That Were Very Pretty And Very Good.

Great Expectations

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

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

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

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.

Man Cannot Really Improve Himself Without Improving Others.

I Am Well Aware That I Am The 'umblest Person Going. . . . My Mother Is Likewise A Very 'umble Person. We Live In A 'umble Abode.

Remember, To The Last, That While There Is Life There Is Hope.

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's Nothing," Returned Mrs Chick. "it's Merely Change Of Weather. We Must Expect Change."

Words Of Wisdom

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.

Darkness Is Cheap, And Scrooge Liked It.

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."

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.

On The Motionless Branches Of Some Trees, Autumn Berries Hung Like Clusters Of Coral Beads, As In Those Fabled Orchards Where The Fruits Were Jewels . . .

This Reminds Me, Godmother, To Ask You A Serious Question. You Are As Wise As Wise Can Be (having Been Brought Up By The Fairies), And You Can Tell Me This: Is It Better To Have Had A Good Thing And Lost It, Or Never To Have Had It?

Words Of Wisdom

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.

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.

Dead, Your Majesty. Dead, My Lords And Gentlemen. Dead, Right Reverends And Wrong Reverends Of Every Order. Dead, Men And Women, Born With Heavenly Compassion In Your Hearts. And Dying Thus Around Us Every Day.

I Went Away, Dear Agnes, Loving You. I Stayed Away, Loving You. I Returned Home, Loving You!

I Wear The Chain I Forged In Life....i Made It Link By Link, And Yard By Yard; I Girded It On Of My Own Free Will, And Of My Own Free Will I Wore It.

I Have Heard It Said That As We Keep Our Birthdays When We Are Alive, So The Ghosts Of Dead People, Who Are Not Easy In Their Graves, Keep The Day They Died Upon.

Indeed The Worthy Housewife Was Of Such A Capricious Nature, That She Not Only Attained A Higher Pitch Of Genius Than Macbeth, In Respect Of Her Ability To Be Wise, Amazed, Temperate And Furious, Loyal And Neutral In An Instant, But Would Sometimes Ring The Changes Backwards And Forwards On All Possible Moods And Flights In One Short Quarter Of An Hour; Performing, As It Were, A Kind Of Triple Bob Major On The Peal Of Instruments In The Female Belfry, With A Skilfulness And Rapidity Of Execution That Astonished All Who Heard Her.

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

There Are Not A Few Among The Disciples Of Charity Who Require, In Their Vocation, Scarcely Less Excitement Than The Votaries Of Pleasure In Theirs.

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".

We All Draw A Little And Compose A Little, And None Of Us Have Any Idea Of Time Or Money.

Spring Is The Time Of Year When It Is Summer In The Sun And Winter In The Shade.

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...

What Lawsuits Grow Out Of The Graves Of Rich Men, Every Day; Sowing Perjury, Hatred, And Lies Among Near Kindred, Where There Should Be Nothing But Love!

The Ocean Asks For Nothing But Those Who Stand By Her Shores Gradually Attune Themselves To Her Rhythm.

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

You Have No Idea What It Is To Have Anybody Wonderful Fond Of You, Unless You Have Been Got Down And Rolled Upon By The Lonely Feelings That I Have Mentioned As Having Once Got The Better Of Me.

A Man Must Take The Fat With The Lean.

But I Am Sure That I Have Always Thought Of Christmas Time, When It Has Come Round...as A Good Time; A Kind, Forgiving, Charitable, Pleasant Time; The Only Time I Know Of, In The Long Calendar Of The Year, When Men And Women Seem By One Consent To Open Their Shut-up Hearts Freely.

What Are The Odds So Long As The Fire Of The Soul Is Kindled At The Taper Of Conviviality, And The Wing Of Friendship Never Molts A Feather?

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

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

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.

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.

"lord Bless You!" Said Mr. Omer, Resuming His Pipe, "a Man Must Take The Fat With The Lean; That's What He Must Make Up His Mind To, In This Life. "

Words Of Wisdom

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.

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

I 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.

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