Quote

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.

Charles Dickens

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Charles Dickens
Age: 58 †
Born: 1812
Born: February 7
Died: 1870
Died: June 9
Author
Editor
Journalist
Novelist
Playwright
Social Critic
Writer
Landport
Hampshire
Dickens
C.Dickens
Charles John Huffam Dickens
Boz
Shapes
Similar
Rapacious
Humanity
Oppression
Licence
Form
Surely
Twist
Kind
Seeds
Tortured
According
Hammers
Shape
Twists
Forms
Crush
Fruit
Yield

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He was simply and staunchly true to his duty alike in the large case and in the small. So all true souls ever are. So every true soul ever was, ever is, and ever will be. There is nothing little to the really great in spirit.
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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.
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Darkness is cheap, and Scrooge liked it.
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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?
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Make them laugh, make them cry, make them wait.
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When the wind is blowing and the sleet or rain is driving against the dark windows, I love to sit by the fire, thinking of what I have read in books of voyage and travel.
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...and to-morrow looked in my face more steadily than I could look at it
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Old Time, that greatest and longest established spinner of all!... his factory is a secret place, his work is noiseless, and his Hands are mutes.
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No one who can read, ever looks at a book, even unopened on a shelf, like one who cannot.
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Some persons hold, he pursued, still hesitating, that there is a wisdom of the Head, and that there is a wisdom of the Heart...
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Mr. Tulkinghorn, sitting in the twilight by the open window, enjoys his wine. As if it whispered to him of its fifty years of silence and seclusion, it shuts him up the closer. More impenetrable than ever, he sits, and drinks, and mellows as it were in secrecy, pondering at that twilight hour on all the mysteries he knows.
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It is because I think so much of warm and sensitive hearts, that I would spare them from being wounded.
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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.
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When we have done our very, very best, papa, and that is not enough, then I think the right time must have come for asking help of others.
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And still I stood looking at the house, thinking how happy I should be if I lived there with her, and knowing that I never was happy with her, but always miserable.
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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.
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... As to sleep, you know, I never sleep now. I might be a Watchman, except that I don't get any pay, and he's got nothing on his mind.
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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.
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She writhes under her life. A woman more angry, passionate, reckless, and revengeful never lived.
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It was one of those hot, silent nights, when people sit at windows listening for the thunder which they know will shortly break when they recall dismal tales of hurricanes and earthquakes and of lonely travellers on open plains, and lonely ships at sea, struck by lightning.
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