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

-Charles Dickens

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There Are Chords In

Charles Dickens

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

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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.

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

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

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

Mrs. Lammle's Manner Changed Under The Poor Silly Girl's Embraces, And She Turned Extremely Pale: Directing One Appealing Look, First To Mrs. Boffin, And Then To Mr. Boffin. Both Understood Her Instantly, With A More Delicate Subtlety Than Much Better Educated People, Whose Perception Came Less Directly From The Heart, Could Have Brought To Bear Upon The Case.

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

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.

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

Words Of Wisdom

Now, Bella Suspected By This Time That Mr. Rokesmith Admired Her. Whether The Knowledge (for It Was Rather That Than Suspicion) Caused Her To Incline To Him A Little More, Or A Little Less, Than She Had Done At First; Whether It Rendered Her Eager To Find Out More About Him, Because She Sought To Establish Reason For Her Distrust, Or Because She Sought To Free Him From It; Was As Yet Dark To Her Own Heart. But At Most Times He Occupied A Great Amount Of Her Attention.

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.

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

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.

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.

Trifles Make The Sum Of Life.

Words Of Wisdom

Circumstances May Accumulate So Strongly Even Against An Innocent Man, That Directed, Sharpened, And Pointed, They May Slay Him.

Words Of Wisdom

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.

Not Knowing How He Lost Himself, Or How He Recovered Himself, He May Never Feel Certain Of Not Losing Himself Again.

Spring Flew Swiftly By, And Summer Came; And If The Village Had Been Beautiful At First, It Was Now In The Full Glow And Luxuriance Of Its Richness. The Great Trees, Which Had Looked Shrunken And Bare In The Earlier Months, Had Now Burst Into Strong Life And Health; And Stretching Forth Their Green Arms Over The Thirsty Ground, Converted Open And Naked Spots Into Choice Nooks, Where Was A Deep And Pleasant Shade From Which To Look Upon The Wide Prospect, Steeped In Sunshine, Which Lay Stretched Out Beyond.

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.

[i]t Seemed As If The Streets Were Absorbed By The Sky, And The Night Were All In The Air.

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

There Might Be Some Credit In Being Jolly.

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

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

The Law Is An Ass, An Idiot.

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

Pale And Pinched-up Faces Hovered About The Windows Where Was Tempting Food; Hungry Eyes Wandered Over The Profusion Guarded By One Thin Sheet Of Brittle Glass--an Iron Wall To Them; Half-naked Shivering Figures Stopped To Gaze At Chinese Shawls And Golden Stuffs Of India.

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.

Cheerfulness And Contentment Are Great Beautifiers, And Are Famous Preservers Of Good Looks.

One Thing About This Face Was Very Strange And Startling. You Could Not Look Upon It In Its Most Cheerful Mood Without Feeling That It Had Some Extraordinary Capacity Of Expressing Terror. It Was Not On The Surface. It Was In No One Feature That It Lingered. You Could Not Take The Eyes Or Mouth, Or Lines Upon The Cheek, And Say, If This Or That Were Otherwise, It Would Not Be So. Yet There It Always Lurked-something For Ever Dimly Seen, But Ever There, And Never Absent For A Moment.

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.

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.

If I May Ride With You, Citizen Evremonde, Will You Let Me Hold Your Hand? I Am Not Afraid, But I Am Little And Weak, And It Will Give Me More Courage." As The Patient Eyes Were Lifted To His Face, He Saw A Sudden Doubt In Them, And Then Astonishment. He Pressed The Work-worn, Hunger-worn Young Fingers, And Touched His Lips. "are You Dying For Him?" She Whispered. "and His Wife And Child. Hush! Yes." "oh, You Will Let Me Hold Your Brave Hand, Stranger?" "hush! Yes, My Poor Sister; To The Last.

A Man Can Well Afford To Be As Bold As Brass, My Good Fellow, When He Gets Gold In Exchange!

By The By, Who Ever Knew A Man Who Never Read Or Wrote Neither Who Hadn't Got Some Small Back Parlour Which He Would Call A Study!

'mind And Matter,' Said The Lady In The Wig, 'glide Swift Into The Vortex If Immensity. Howls The Sublime, And Softly Sleeps The Calm Ideal, In The Whispering Chambers Of Imagination.'

One Disagreeable Result Of Whispering Is That It Seems To Evoke An Atmosphere Of Silence, Haunted By The Ghosts Of Sound - Strange Cracks And Tickings, The Rustling Of Garments That Have No Substance In Them, And The Tread Of Dreadful Feet That Would Leave No Mark On The Sea-sand Or The Winter Snow.

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.

But Injustice Breeds Injustice; The Fighting With Shadows And Being Defeated By Them Necessitates The Setting Up Of Substances To Combat.

Words Of Wisdom

Think Now And Then That There Is A Man Who Would Give His Life, To Keep A Life You Love Beside You.

'there May Be Some, Perhaps - I Don't Know That There Are - Who Abuse His Kindness,' Said Mr. Wickfield. 'never Be One Of Those, Trotwood, In Anything. He Is The Least Suspicious Of Mankind; And Whether That's A Merit, Or Whether It's A Blemish, It Deserves Consideration In All Dealings With The Doctor, Great Or Small.

Now I Am In The Garden At The Back . . . A Very Preserve Of Butterflies As I Remember It, With A High Fence, And A Gate . . . Where The Fruit Clusters On The Trees, Riper And Richer Than Fruit Has Ever Been Since, In Any Other Garden, And Where My Mother Gathers Some In A Basket While I Stand By, Bolting Furtive Gooseberries, And Trying To Look Unnerved.

All Is Going On As It Was Wont. The Waves Are Hoarse With Repetition Of Their Mystery; The Dust Lies Piled Upon The Shore; The Sea-birds Soar And Hover; The Winds And Clouds Go Forth Upon Their Trackless Flight; The White Arms Beckon, In The Moonlight, To The Invisible Country Far Away.

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.

Be Guided, Only By The Healer Of The Sick, The Raiser Of The Dead, The Friend Of All Who Were Afflicted And Forlorn, The Patient Master Who Shed Tears Of Compassion For Our Infirmities. We Cannot But Be Right If We Put All The Rest Away, And Do Everything In Remembrance Of Him. There Is No Vengeance And No Infliction Of Suffering In His Life, I Am Sure. There Can Be No Confusion In Following Him, And Seeking For No Other Footsteps, I Am Certain!

Vices Are Sometimes Only Virtues Carried To Excess!

God Bless Us, Every One!

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

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

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.

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.

The Wide Stare Stared Itself Out For One While; The Sun Went Down In A Red, Green, Golden Glory; The Stars Came Out In The Heavens, And The Fire-flies Mimicked Them In The Lower Air, As Men May Feebly Imitate The Goodness Of A Better Order Of Beings; The Long Dusty Roads And The Interminable Plains Were In Repose-and So Deep A Hush Was On The Sea, That It Scarcely Whispered Of The Time When It Shall Give Up Its Dead.

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

At Last, However, He Began To Think -- As You Or I Would Have Thought At First; For It Is Always The Person Not In The Predicament Who Knows What Ought To Have Been Done In It, And Would Unquestionably Have Done It Too . . .

Words Of Wisdom

... I Have Read In Your Face, As Plain As If It Was A Book, That But For Some Trouble And Sorrow We Should Never Know Half The Good There Is About Us.

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

"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?"

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.

"peggotty!" Repeated Miss Betsey, With Some Indignation. "do You Mean To Say, Child, That Any Human Being Has Gone Into A Christian Church, And Got Herself Named Peggotty?"

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

What Is Natural In Me, Is Natural In Many Other Men, I Infer, And So I Am Not Afraid To Write That I Never Had Loved Steerforth Better Than When The Ties That Bound Me To Him Were Broken. In The Keen Distress Of The Discovery Of His Unworthiness, I Thought More Of All That Was Brilliant In Him, I Softened More Towards All That Was Good In Him, I Did More Justice To The Qualities That Might Have Made Him A Man Of A Noble Nature And A Great Name, Than Ever I Had Done In The Height Of My Devotion To Him.

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.

To A Young Heart Everything Is Fun.

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

Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, Or Death; - The Last, Much The Easiest To Bestow, O Guillotine!

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.

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

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

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

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?

Death Is A Mighty, Universal Truth.

Universal Truth

And It Was Always Said Of Him, That He Knew How To Keep Christmas Well, If Any Man Alive Possessed The Knowledge. May That Be Truly Said Of Us, And All Of Us! And So, As Tiny Tim Observed, God Bless Us, Every One!

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.

It Is Required Of Every Man," The Ghost Returned, "that The Spirit Within Him Should Walk Abroad Among His Fellow-men, And Travel Far And Wide; And, If That Spirit Goes Not Forth In Life, It Is Condemned To Do So After Death.

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

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

What Greater Gift Than The Love Of A Cat.

If Its Individual Citizens, To A Man, Are To Be Believed, It Always Is Depressed, And Always Is Stagnated, And Always Is At An Alarming Crisis, And Never Was Otherwise; Though As A Body, They Are Ready To Make Oath Upon The Evangelists, At Any Hour Of The Day Or Night, That It Is The Most Thriving And Prosperous Of All Countries On The Habitable Globe.

Circumstances Beyond My Individual Control.

Express Yourself

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

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

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.

I Know Enough Of The World Now To Have Almost Lost The Capacity Of Being Much Surprised By Anything

The Heavy Rain Beat Down The Tender Branches Of Vine And Jessamine, And Trampled On Them In Its Fury; And When The Lightning Gleamed, It Showed The Tearful Leaves Shivering And Cowering Together At The Window, And Tapping At It Urgently, As If Beseeching To Be Sheltered From The Dismal Night.

It Was The Best Of Times, It Was The Worst Of Times, It Was The Age Of Wisdom, It Was The Age Of Foolishness, It Was The Epoch Of Belief, It Was The Epoch Of Incredulity, It Was The Season Of Light, It Was The Season Of Darkness, It Was The Spring Of Hope, It Was The Winter Of Despair.

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

Suffering Has Been Stronger Than All Other Teaching, And Has Taught Me To Understand What Your Heart Used To Be. I Have Been Bent And Broken, But - I Hope - Into A Better Shape.

I Believe No Satirist Could Breathe This Air. If Another Juvenal Or Swift Could Rise Up Among Us Tomorrow, He Would Be Hunted Down. If You Have Any Knowledge Of Our Literature, And Can Give Me The Name Of Any Man, American Born And Bred, Who Has Anatomised Our Follies As A People, And Not As This Or That Party; And Who Has Escaped The Foulest And Most Brutal Slander, The Most Inveterate Hatred And Intolerant Pursuit; It Will Be A Strange Name In My Ears, Believe Me.

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

Château And Hut, Stone Face And Dangling Figure, The Red Stain On The Stone Floor, And The Pure Water In The Village Well-thousands Of Acres Of Land-a Whole Province Of France-all France Itself-lay Under The Night Sky, Concentrated Into A Faint Hairbreadth Line. So Does A Whole World, With All Its Greatnesses And Littlenesses, Lie In A Twinkling Star.

I Ate 'umble Pie With An Appetite.

Don't You Think That Any Secret Course Is An Unworthy One?

Words Of Wisdom

An Inebriated Elderly Gentleman In The Last Depths Of Shabbiness... Played The Calm And Virtuous Old Men.

If Husain (as) Had Fought To Quench His Worldly Desires…then I Do Not Understand Why His Sister, Wife, And Children Accompanied Him. It Stands To Reason Therefore, That He Sacrificed Purely For Islam.

As He Glided Stealthily Along, Creeping Beneath The Shelter Of The Walls And Doorways, The Hideous Old Man Seemed Like Some Loathsome Reptile, Engendered In The Slime And Darkness Through Which He Moved: Crawling Forth, By Night, In Search Of Some Rich Offal For A Meal.

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

Words Of Wisdom

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!

The Leprosy Of Unreality Disfigured Every Human Creature In Attendance.

At The Great Iron Gate Of The Churchyard He Stopped And Looked In. He Looked Up At The High Tower Spectrally Resisting The Wind, And He Looked Round At The White Tombstones, Like Enough To The Dead In Their Winding-sheets, And He Counted The Nine Tolls Of The Clock-bell.

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

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

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

But Tears Were Not The Things To Find Their Way To Mr. Bumble’s Soul; His Heart Was Waterproof. Like Washable Beaver Hats That Improve With Rain, His Nerves Were Rendered Stouter And More Vigorous, By Showers Of Tears, Which, Being Tokens Of Weakness, And So Far Tacit Admissions Of His Own Power, Pleased And Exalted Him.

Love Her, Love Her, Love Her! If She Favours You, Love Her. If She Wounds You, Love Her. If She Tears Your Heart To Pieces – And As It Gets Older And Stronger, It Will Tear Deeper – Love Her, Love Her, Love Her!

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

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

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!

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

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

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.

A Dangerous Quality, If Real; And A Not Less Dangerous One, If Feigned.

Words Of Wisdom

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

Dumb As A Drum Vith A Hole In It, Sir.

If You Could Say, With Truth, To Your Own Solitary Heart, To-night, 'i Have Secured To Myself The Love And Attachment, The Gratitude Or Respect, Of No Human Creature; I Have Won Myself A Tender Place In No Regard; I Have Done Nothing Good Or Serviceable To Be Remembered By!' Your Seventy-eight Years Would Be Seventy-eight Heavy Curses; Would They Not?

Dickens Writes That An Event, "began To Be Forgotten, As Most Affairs Are, When Wonder, Having No Fresh Food To Support It, Dies Away Of Itself.

Yet, I Had Nothing Else To Tell; Unless, Indeed, I Were To Confess (which Might Be Of Less Moment Still), That No One Can Ever Believe This Narrative, In The Reading, More Than I Believed It In The Writing.

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

Never Imitate The Eccentricities Of Genius, But Toil After It In Its Truer Flights. They Are Not So Easy To Follow, But They Lead To Higher Regions.

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

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.

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

Champagne Is Simply One Of The Elegant Extras Of Life.

We Came To The House, And It Is An Old House, Full Of Great Chimneys Where Wood Is Burnt On Ancient Dogs Upon The Hearth, And Grim Portraits (some Of Them With Grim Legends, Too) Lower Distrustfully From The Oaken Panels Of The Walls.

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.

The Worst Class Of Sum Worked In The Every-day World Is Cyphered By The Diseased Arithmeticians Who Are Always In The Rule Of Subtraction As To The Merits And Successes Of Others, And Never In Addition As To Their Own.

Words Of Wisdom

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.

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

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

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.

The Habit Of Paying Compliments Kept A Man's Tongue Oiled Without Any Expense.

When They Took A Young Man Into Tellson's London House, They Hid Him Somewhere Till He Was Old. They Kept Him In A Dark Place, Like A Cheese, Until He Had The Full Tellson Flavour And Blue-mould Upon Him. Then Only Was He Permitted To Be Seen, Spectacularly Poring Over Large Books, And Casting His Breeches And Gaiters Into The General Weight Of The Establishment.

There Was A Little Plate Of Hothouse Nectarines On The Table, And There Was Another Of Grapes, And Another Of Sponge-cakes, And There Was A Bottle Of Light Wine ... 'this Is My Frugal Breakfast ... Give Me My Peach, My Cup Of Coffee, And My Claret.'

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.

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

If A Dread Of Not Being Understood Be Hidden In The Breasts Of Other Young People To Anything Like The Extent To Which It Used To Be Hidden In Mine - Which I Consider Probable, As I Have No Particular Reason To Suspect Myself Of Having Been A Monstrosity - It Is The Key To Many Reservations.

Words Of Wisdom

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!

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.

…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.

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.'

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 Air Came Laden With The Fragrance It Caught Upon Its Way, And The Bees, Upborne Upon Its Scented Breath, Hummed Forth Their Drowsy Satisfaction As They Floated By.

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.

Bleak, Dark, And Piercing Cold, It Was A Night For The Well-housed And Fed To Draw Round The Bright Fire, And Thank God They Were At Home; And For The Homeless Starving Wretch To Lay Him Down And Die. Many Hunger-worn Outcasts Close Their Eyes In Our Bare Streets At Such Times, Who, Let Their Crimes Have Been What They May, Can Hardly Open Them In A More Bitter World.

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

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

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.

I Hope That Real Love And Truth Are Stronger In The End Than Any Evil Or Misfortune In The World.

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

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

[she Wasn't] A Logically Reasoning Woman, But God Is Good, And Hearts May Count In Heaven As High As Heads.

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

There Have Been Occasions In My Later Life (i Suppose As In Most Lives) When I Have Felt For A Time As If A Thick Curtain Had Fallen On All Its Interest And Romance, To Shut Me Out From Anything Save Dull Endurance Any More. Never Has That Curtain Dropped So Heavy And Blank, As When My Way In Life Lay Stretched Out Straight Before Me Through The Newly-entered Road Of Apprenticeship To Joe.

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

If You Will Take Me For Your Wife, Walter, I Will Love You Dearly. If You Will Let Me Go With You, Walter, I Will Go To The World's End Without Fear. I Can Give Up Nothing For You - I Have Nothing To Resign, And No One To Forsake; But All My Love And Life Shall Be Devoted To You, And With My Last Breath I Will Breathe Your Name To God If I Have Sense And Memory Left.

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

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

It Was Understood That Nothing Of A Tender Nature Could Possibly Be Confided To Old Barley, By Reason Of His Being Totally Unequal To The Consideration Of Any Subject More Psychological Than Gout, Rum, And Purser's Stores.

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

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.

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.

May Not The Complaint, That Common People Are Above Their Station, Often Take Its Rise In The Fact Of Uncommon People Being Below Theirs?

A Smattering Of Everything, And A Knowledge Of Nothing.

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.'

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!

I Thought It Very Touching To See These Two Women, Coarse And Shabby And Beaten, So United; To See What They Could Be To One Another; To See How They Felt For One Another, How The Heart Of Each To Each Was Softened By The Hard Trials Of Their Lives. I Think The Best Side Of Such People Is Almost Hidden From Us. What The Poor Are To The Poor Is Little Known, Excepting To Themselves And God.

You Hear, Eugene?' Said Lightwood Over His Shoulder. 'you Are Deeply Interested In Lime.' 'without Lime,' Returned That Unmoved Barrister At Law, 'my Existence Would Be Unilluminated By A Ray Of Hope.

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.

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

How Many Families, Whose Members Have Been Dispersed And Scattered Far And Wide, In The Restless Struggles Of Life, Are Then Reunited, And Meet Once Again In That Happy State Of Companionship And Mutual Goodwill, Which Is A Source Of Such Pure And Unalloyed Delight; And One So Incompatible With The Cares And Sorrows Of The World, That The Religious Belief Of The Most Civilized Nations, And The Rude Traditions Of The Roughest Savages, Alike Number It Among The First Joys Of A Future Condition Of Existence, Provided For The Blessed And Happy!

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

Poverty And Oysters Always Seem To Go Together.

No Space Of Regret Can Make Amends For One Life's Opportunity Misused

I Revere The Memory Of Mr. F. As An Estimable Man And Most Indulgent Husband, Only Necessary To Mention Asparagus And It Appeared Or To Hint At Any Little Delicate Thing To Drink And It Came Like Magic In A Pint Bottle; It Was Not Ecstasy But It Was Comfort.

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

Words Of Wisdom

"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?"

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

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

Tale Of Two Cities

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.

"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."

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.

There Is A Drowsy State, Between Sleeping And Waking, When You Dream More In Five Minutes With Your Eyes Half Open, And Yourself Half Conscious Of Everything That Is Passing Around You, Than You Would In Five Nights With Your Eyes Fast Closed, And Your Senses Wrapt In Perfect Unconsciousness. At Such Time, A Mortal Knows Just Enough Of What His Mind Is Doing, To Form Some Glimmering Conception Of Its Mighty Powers, Its Bounding From Earth And Spurning Time And Space, When Freed From The Restraint Of Its Corporeal Associate.

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

As I Never Saw My Father Or My Mother, And Never Saw Any Likeness Of Either Of Them (for Their Days Were Long Before The Days Of Photographs), My First Fancies Regarding What They Were Like, Were Unreasonably Derived From Their Tombstones. The Shape Of The Letters On My Father's, Gave Me An Odd Idea That He Was A Square, Stout, Dark Man, With Curly Black Hair. From The Character And Turn Of The Inscription, "also Georgiana Wife Of The Above", I Drew A Childish Conclusion That My Mother Was Freckled And Sickly.

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

... The Woman Who Grows Up With The Idea That She Is Simply To Be An Amiable Animal, To Be Caressed And Coaxed, Is Invariably A Bitterly Disappointed Woman. A Game Of Chess Will Cure Such A Conceit Forever. The Woman That Knows The Most, Thinks The Most, Feels The Most, Is The Most. Intellectual Affection Is The Only Lasting Love. Love That Has A Game Of Chess In It Can Checkmate Any Man And Solve The Problem Of Life.

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.

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

Oh, A Dainty Plant Is The Ivy Green, That Creepeth O'er Ruins Old! Of Right Choice Food Are His Meals, I Ween, In His Cell So Lone And Cold. Creeping Where No Life Is Seen, A Rare Old Plant Is The Ivy Green.

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your Voice And Music Are The Same To Me.

The American Elite Is Almost Beyond Redemption. . . . Moral Relativism Has Set In So Deeply That The Gilded Classes Have Become Incapable Of Discerning Right From Wrong. Everything Can Be Explained Away, Especially By Journalists. Life Is One Great Moral Mush--sophistry Washed Down With Chardonnay. The Ordinary Citizens, Thank Goodness, Still Adhere To Absolutes.... It Is They Who Have Saved The Republic From Creeping Degradation While Their 'betters' Were Derelict.

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