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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.

-Charles Dickens

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The Sum Of The

Charles Dickens

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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.

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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.

"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."

The Jovial Party Broke Up Next Morning. Breakings-up Are Capital Things In Our School-days, But In After Life They Are Painful Enough. Death, Self-interest, And Fortune's Changes, Are Every Day Breaking Up Many A Happy Group, And Scattering Them Far And Wide; And The Boys And Girls Never Come Back Again.

You Can't Make A Head And Brains Out Of A Brass Knob With Nothing In It. You Couldn't Do It When Your Uncle George Was Living Much Less When He's Dead.

A Very Little Key Will Open A Very Heavy Door.

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

God Bless Us, Every One!

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

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.

A Tranquil Summer Sunset Shone Upon Him As He Approached The End Of His Walk, And Passed Through The Meadows By The River Side. He Had That Sense Of Peace, And Of Being Lightened Of A Weight Of Care, Which Country Quiet Awakens In The Breasts Of Dwellers In Towns.

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.

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.

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.

"ah, Miss, Hope Is An Excellent Thing For Such As Has The Spirits To Bear It!" Said Mrs Wickam, Shaking Her Head. "my Own Spirits Is Not Equal To It, But I Don't Owe It Any Grudge. I Envys Them That Is So Blest!"

Shall We Speak Of The Inspiration Of A Poet Or A Priest, And Not Of The Heart Impelled By Love And Self-devotion To The Lowliest Work In The Lowliest Way Of Life?

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 Opens The Lungs, Washes The Countenance, Exercises The Eyes, And Softens Down The Temper; So Cry Away.

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

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

"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?"

"do Not Repine, My Friends," Said Mr. Pecksniff, Tenderly. "do Not Weep For Me. It Is Chronic."

Fog Everywhere. Fog Up The River Where It Flows Among Green Airs And Meadows; Fog Down The River, Where It Rolls Defiled Among The Tiers Of Shipping, And The Waterside Pollutions Of A Great (and Dirty) City.... Chance People On The Bridges Peeping Over The Parapets Into A Nether Sky Of Fog, With Fog All Round Them, As If They Were Up In A Balloon And Hanging In The Misty Clouds.

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

We Never Tire Of The Friendships We Form With Books.

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.

I Don't Know What To Do!" Cried Scrooge, Laughing And Crying In The Same Breath; And Making A Perfect Laocoön Of Himself With His Stockings. "i Am As Light As A Feather, I Am As Happy As An Angel, I Am As Merry As A School-boy. I Am As Giddy As A Drunken Man. A Merry Christmas To Every-body! A Happy New Year To All The World! Hallo Here! Whoop! Hallo!

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

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

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

Friendless I Can Never Be, For All Mankind Are My Kindred, And I Am On Ill Terms With No One Member Of My Great Family.

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.

The Two Commonest Mistakes In Judgement ... Are, The Confounding Of Shyness With Arrogance - A Very Common Mistake Indeed - And The Not Understanding That An Obstinate Nature Exists In A Perpetual Struggle With Itself.

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.

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.

The Wind Is Rushing After Us, And The Clouds Are Flying After Us, And The Moon Is Plunging After Us, And The Whole Wild Night Is In Pursuit Of Us; But, So Far We Are Pursued By Nothing Else.

I Have Known A Vast Quantity Of Nonsense Talked About Bad Men Not Looking You In The Face. Don't Trust That Conventional Idea. Dishonesty Will Stare Honesty Out Of Countenance Any Day In The Week, If There Is Anything To Be Got By It.

You Don't Carry In Your Countenance A Letter Of Recommendation.

Why Then We Should Drop Into Poetry.

Renunciation Remains Sorrow, Though A Sorrow Borne Willingly.

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

... 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

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!

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

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

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.

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

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

There Is Probably A Smell Of Roasted Chestnuts And Other Good Comfortable Things All The Time, For We Are Telling Winter Stories - Ghost Stories, Or More Shame For Us - Round The Christmas Fire; And We Have Never Stirred, Except To Draw A Little Nearer To It.

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

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?

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.

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.

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

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.

Let Us Be Moral. Let Us Contemplate Existence.

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

It Was A Very Aged, Ghostly Place; The Church Had Been Built Many Hundreds Of Years Ago, And Had Once Had A Convent Or Monastery Attached; For Arches In Ruins, Remains Of Oriel Windows, And Fragments Of Blackened Walls, Were Yet Standing-, While Other Portions Of The Old Building, Which Had Crumbled Away And Fallen Down, Were Mingled With The Churchyard Earth And Overgrown With Grass, As If They Too Claimed A Burying-place And Sought To Mix Their Ashes With The Dust Of Men.

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

You Are Part Of My Existence, Part Of Myself. You Have Been In Every Line I Have Ever Read, Since I First Came Here, The Rough Common Boy Whose Poor Heart You Wounded Even Then. You Have Been In Every Prospect I Have Ever Seen Since-on The River, On The Sails Of The Ships, On The Marshes, In The Clouds, In The Light, In The Darkness, In The Wind, In The Woods, In The Sea, In The Streets. You Have Been The Embodiment Of Every Graceful Fancy That My Mind Has Ever Become Acquainted With.

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

If An Enthusiastic, Ardent, And Ambitious Man Marry A Wife On Whose Name There Is A Stain, Which, Though It Originate In No Fault Of Hers, May Be Visited By Cold And Sordid People Upon Her, And Upon His Children Also: And, In Exact Proportion To His Success In The World, Be Cast In His Teeth, And Made The Subject Of Sneers Against Him: He May, No Matter How Generous And Good His Nature, One Day Repent Of The Connection He Formed In Early Life; And She May Have The Pain And Torture Of Knowing That He Does So.

All I Would Say Is, That I Can Go Abroad Without Your Family Coming Forward To Favour Me, - In Short, With A Parting Shove Of Their Cold Shoulders; And That, Upon The Whole, I Would Rather Leave England With Such Impetus As I Possess, Than Derive Any Acceleration Of It From That Quarter.

Loves And Cupids Took To Flight Afraid, And Martyrdom Had No Such Torment In Its Painted History Of Suffering.

Death Is A Mighty, Universal Truth.

Universal Truth

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

When You Drink Of The Water, Don't Forget The Spring From Which It Flows.

I Wear The Chains I Forged In Life.

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.

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

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.

I Took Her Hand In Mine, And We Went Out Of The Ruined Place; And, As The Morning Mists Had Risen Long Ago When I First Left The Forge, So, The Evening Mists Were Rising Now, And In All The Broad Expanse Of Tranquil Light They Showed To Me, I Saw No Shadow Of Another Parting From Her.

We Can Refute Assertions, But Who Can Refute Silence?

Although A Man May Lose A Sense Of His Own Importance When He Is A Mere Unit Among A Busy Throng, All Utterly Regardless Of Him, It By No Means Follows That He Can Dispossess Himself, With Equal Facility, Of A Very Strong Sense Of The Importance And Magnitude Of His Cares.

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

It Is An Old Prerogative Of Kings To Govern Everything But Their Passions.

"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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

Over The Whole, A Young Lady Presided, Whose Gloomy Haughtiness As She Surveyed The Street, Announced A Deep-seated Grievance Against Society, And An Implacable Determination To Be Avenged.

The Persons On Whom I Have Bestowed My Dearest Love Lie Deep In Their Graves; But, Although The Happiness And Delight Of My Life Lie Buried There Too, I Have Not Made A Coffin Of My Heart, And Sealed It Up For Ever On My Best Affections. Deep Affliction Has Only Made Them Stronger; It Ought, I Think, For It Should Refine Our Nature.

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

He Thought Of The Number Of Girls And Women She Had Seen Marry, How Many Homes With Children In Them She Had Seen Grow Up Around Her, How She Had Contentedly Pursued Her Own Lone Quite Path-for Him. ~ Stephen Speaking Of Rachael

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

Not Only Is The Day Waning, But The Year. The Low Sun Is Fiery And Yet Cold Behind The Monastery Ruin, And The Virginia Creeper On The Cathedral Wall Has Showered Half Its Deep-red Leaves Down On The Pavement. There Has Been Rain This Afternoon, And A Wintry Shudder Goes Among The Little Pools On The Cracked, Uneven Flag-stones, And Through The Giant Elm-trees As They Shed A Gust Of Tears.

... 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.

A Word In Earnest Is As Good As A Speech.

Words Of Wisdom

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

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

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

As The Gloom And Shadow Thickened Behind Him, In That Place Where It Had Been Gathering So Darkly, It Took, By Slow Degrees, - Or Out Of It There Came, By Some Unreal, Unsubstantial Process - Not To Be Traced By Any Human Sense, - An Awful Likeness Of Himself!

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.

Circumstances Beyond My Individual Control.

Express Yourself

Death May Beget Life, But Oppression Can Beget Nothing Other Than Itself.

Ah, If Only I Had Brought A Cigar With Me! This Would Have Established My Identity.

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

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

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.

His Wardrobe Was Extensive-very Extensive-not Strictly Classical Perhaps, Not Quite New, Nor Did It Contain Any One Garment Made Precisely After The Fashion Of Any Age Or Time, But Everything Was More Or Less Spangled; And What Can Be Prettier Than Spangles!

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.

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

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

We Need Never Be Ashamed Of Our Tears.

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.

For Not An Orphan In The Wide World Can Be So Deserted As The Child Who Is An Outcast From A Living Parent's Love.

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?

She Had Gained A Reputation For Beauty, And (which Is Often Another Thing) Was Beautiful.

Are There No Prisons?

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.

The Dew Seemed To Sparkle More Brightly On The Green Leaves The Air To Rustle Among Them With A Sweeter Music And The Sky Itself To Look More Blue And Bright. Such Is The Influence Which The Condition Of Our Own Thoughts, Exercise, Even Over The Appearance Of External Objects.

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

The Unqualified Truth Is, That When I Loved Estella With The Love Of A Man, I Loved Her Simply Because I Found Her Irresistible. Once For All; I Knew To My Sorrow, Often And Often, If Not Always, That I Loved Her Against Reason, Against Promise, Against Peace, Against Hope, Against Happiness, Against All Discouragement That Could Be. Once For All; I Love Her None The Less Because I Knew It, And It Had No More Influence In Restraining Me, Than If I Had Devoutly Believed Her To Be Human Perfection.

Great Expectations

And A Beautiful World We Live In, When It Is Possible, And When Many Other Such Things Are Possible, And Not Only Possible, But Done-- Done, See You!-- Under That Sky There, Every Day.

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

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.

The First Diabolical Character Who Intruded Himself On My Peaceful Youth (as I Called To Mind That Day At Dullborough), Was A Certain Captain Murderer. This Wretch Must Have Been An Off-shoot Of The Blue Beard Family, But I Had No Suspicion Of The Consanguinity In Those Times. His Warning Name Would Seem To Have Awakened No General Prejudice Against Him, For He Was Admitted Into The Best Society And Possessed Immense Wealth. Captain Murderer's Mission Was Matrimony, And The Gratification Of A Cannibal Appetite With Tender Brides.

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

There Lives At Least One Being Who Can Never Change-one Being Who Would Be Content To Devote His Whole Existence To Your Happiness-who Lives But In Your Eyes-who Breathes But In Your Smiles-who Bears The Heavy Burden Of Life Itself Only For You.

Burdens Of Life

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.

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

Christmas Was Close At Hand, In All His Bluff And Hearty Honesty; It Was The Season Of Hospitality, Merriment, And Open-heartedness; The Old Year Was Preparing, Like An Ancient Philosopher, To Call His Friends Around Him, And Amidst The Sound Of Feasting And Revelry To Pass Gently And Calmly Away.

…a Lady Of What Is Commonly Called An Uncertain Temper --a Phrase Which Being Interpreted Signifies A Temper Tolerably Certain To Make Everybody More Or Less Uncomfortable.

Black Are The Brooding Clouds And Troubled The Deep Waters, When The Sea Of Thought, First Heaving From A Calm, Gives Up Its Dead

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.

Veels Vithin Veels, A Prison In A Prison.

Then Tell Wind And Fire Where To Stop," Returned Madame; "but Don't Tell Me.

Tale Of Two Cities

"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

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

Words Of Wisdom

I Confess I Have Yet To Learn That A Lesson Of The Purest Good May Not Be Drawn From The Vilest Evil.

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.

The Clouds Were Flying Fast, The Wind Was Coming Up In Gusts, Banging Some Neighboring Shutters That Had Broken Loose, Twirling The Rusty Chimney-cowls And Weathercocks, And Rushing Round And Round A Confined Adjacent Churchyard As If It Had A Mind To Blow The Dead Citizens Out Of Their Graves. The Low Thunder, Muttering In All Quarters Of The Sky At Once, Seemed To Threaten Vengeance For This Attempted Desecration, And To Mutter, "let Them Rest! Let Them Rest!

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

I Do Not Know The American Gentleman, God Forgive Me For Putting Two Such Words Together.

The Blossom Is Blighted, The Leaf Is Withered, The God Of Day Goes Down Upon The Dreary Scene, And In Short You Are For Ever Floored.

... 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.

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

Virtue Shows Quite As Well In Rags And Patches As She Does In Purple And Fine Linen.

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

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

Can You Suppose There's Any Harm In Looking As Cheerful And Being As Cheerful As Our Poor Circumstances Will Permit?

Words Of Wisdom

Cleanliness Is Next To Godliness, And Some People Do The Same By Their Religion.

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

Some Women's Faces Are, In Their Brightness, A Prophecy; And Some, In Their Sadness, A History.

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.

There Might Be Some Credit In Being Jolly.

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.

Change Begets Change.

I Feel An Earnest And Humble Desire, And Shall Do Till I Die, To Increase The Stock Of Harmless Cheerfulness.

Have A Heart That Never Hardens

‎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.

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!

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.

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 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.

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.

It Is Not Possible To Know How Far The Influence Of Any Amiable, Honest-hearted Duty-doing Man Flies Out Into The World, But It Is Very Possible To Know How It Has Touched One's Self In Going By.

"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..."

Little Red Riding Hood Was My First Love. I Felt That If I Could Have Married Little Red Riding Hood, I Should Have Known Perfect Bliss.

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.

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.

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

The Weathercocks On Spires And Housetops Were Mysterious With Hints Of Stormy Wind, And Pointed, Like So Many Ghostly Fingers, Out To Dangerous Seas, Where Fragments Of Great Wrecks Were Drifting, Perhaps, And Helpless Men Were Rocked Upon Them Into A Sleep As Deep As The Unfathomable Waters.

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

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

It Is When Our Budding Hopes Are Nipped Beyond Recovery By Some Rough Wind, That We Are The Most Disposed To Picture To Ourselves What Flowers They Might Have Borne, If They Had Flourished . . .

It Is A Most Miserable Thing To Feel Ashamed Of Home.

Words Of Wisdom

It's My Old Girl That Advises. She Has The Head. But I Never Own To It Before Her. Discipline Must Be Maintained.

I Should Never Have Made My Success In Life If I Had Not Bestowed Upon The Least Thing I Have Ever Undertaken The Same Attention And Care That I Have Bestowed Upon The Greatest.

Success In Life

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

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!

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.

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

Words Of Wisdom

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.

He Was Bolder In The Daylight-most Men Are.

Words Of Wisdom

I Had Considered How The Things That Never Happen, Are Often As Much Realities To Us, In Their Effects, As Those That Are Accomplished.

Words Of Wisdom

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.

A Contented Spirit Is The Sweetness Of Existence.

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

I Don't Suppose There's A Man Going, As Possesses The Fondness For Youth That I Do. There's Youth To The Amount Of Eight Hundredpound A-year, At Dotheboys Hall At This Present Time. I'd Take Sixteen Hundred Pound Worth, If I Could Get 'em, And Be As Fond Of Every Individual Twenty Pound Among 'em As Nothing Should Equal It!

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

Remembrance, Like A Candle, Burns Brightest At Christmastime.

"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..."

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

He Says-him As Was Here Just Now-'when Tom Shut Up The House, Mate, To Go To Rack, The Beds Was Left, All Made, Like As If Somebody Was A-going To Sleep In Every Bed. And If You Was To Walk Through The Bedrooms Now, You'd See The Ragged Mouldy Bedclothes A Heaving And A Heaving Like Seas. And A Heaving And A Heaving With What?' He Says. 'why, With The Rats Under 'em.'

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

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

If You Can't Get To Be Oncommon Through Going Straight, You'll Never Get To Do It Through Going Crooked. So Don't Tell No More On 'em, Pip, And Live Well And Die Happy.

The American Woman Is A Monstrosity.

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

Mr Jarndyce, And Prevented His Going Any Farther, When He Had Remarked That There Were Two Classes Of Charitable People: One, The People Who Did A Little And Made A Great Deal Of Noise; The Other, The People Who Did A Great Deal And Made No Noise At All.

The Sun,--the Bright Sun, That Brings Back, Not Light Alone, But New Life, And Hope, And Freshness To Man--burst Upon The Crowded City In Clear And Radiant Glory. Through Costly-coloured Glass And Paper-mended Window, Through Cathedral Dome And Rotten Crevice, It Shed Its Equal Ray.

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.

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

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

Marley Was Dead, To Begin With. There Is No Doubt Whatever About That. The Register Of His Burial Was Signed By The Clergyman, The Clerk, The Undertaker, And The Chief Mourner. Scrooge Signed It. And Scrooge's Name Was Good Upon 'change For Anything He Chose To Put His Hand To. Old Marley Was As Dead As A Door-nail.

Troubles Are Exceedingly Gregarious In Their Nature, And Flying In Flocks Are Apt To Perch Capriciously.

Life Is Made Of Ever So Many Partings Welded Together.

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