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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.
Charles Dickens
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Charles Dickens
Age: 58 †
Born: 1812
Born: February 7
Died: 1870
Died: June 9
Author
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Landport
Hampshire
Dickens
C.Dickens
Charles John Huffam Dickens
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Everything
Thank
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Heaven
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Long
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Undisciplined
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Wretched
Dream
Fell
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Dawn
More quotes by Charles Dickens
... Waiter! raw beef-steak for the gentleman's eye,-nothing like raw beef-steak for a bruise, sir cold lamp-post very good, but lamp-post inconvenient-damned odd standing in the open street half-an-hour, with your eye against a lamp.
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Philosophers are only men in armor after all.
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Christmas is a poor excuse every 25th of December to pick a man's pockets.
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There is no substitute for thoroughgoing, ardent, and sincere earnestness.
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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?
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She better liked to see him free and happy, even than to have him near her, because she loved him better than herself.
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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.
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... when he saw her sitting there all alone, so young, and good, and beautiful, and kind to him and heard her thrilling voice, so natural and sweet, and such a golden link between him and all his life's love and happiness, rising out of the silence he turned his face away, and hid his tears.
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The aim of talk should be like the aim of a flying arrow -- to hit the mark but to this end there must be a mark to hit, that is, there must be a listener.
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And O there are days in this life, worth life and worth death.
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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.
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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!
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We forge the chains we wear in life.
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Family not only need to consist of merely those whom we share blood, but also for those whom we'd give blood.
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There are strings, said Mr. Tappertit, flourishing his bread-and-cheese knife in the air, in the human heart that had better not be wibrated...
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Satisfy yourself beyond all doubt that you are qualified for the course to which you now aspire.....and try to achieve something in your own land before you venture on a strange one.
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I think it must somewhere be written that the virtues of mothers shall be visited on their children, as well as the sins of their fathers.
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Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration.
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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.
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