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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.

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
Pain
Stronger
Understand
Teaching
Used
Broken
Better
Growth
Heart
Taught
Bent
Challenges
Recovery
Suffering
Shape
Hope
Shapes

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There might be some credit in being jolly.
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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.
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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.
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... 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.
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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.
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Pride is one of the seven deadly sins but it cannot be the pride of a mother in her children, for that is a compound of two cardinal virtues - faith and hope.
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Prowling about the rooms, sitting down, getting up, stirring the fire, looking out the window, teasing my hair, sitting down to write, writing nothing, writing something and tearing it up...
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Fan the sinking flame of hilarity with the wing of friendship and pass the rosy wine.
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I stole her heart away and put ice in its place.
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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 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.
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