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The last trumpet ever to be sounded shall blow even algebra to wreck.

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
Ever
Algebra
Even
Trumpets
Wrecks
Sounded
Blow
Shall
Lasts
Trumpet
Last
Wreck

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A modest ring at the bell at length allayed her fears, and Miss Benton, hurrying into her own room and shutting herself up, in order that she might preserve that appearance of being taken by surprise which is so essential to the polite reception of visitors, awaited their coming with a smiling countenance.
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The man who now confronted Gashford, was a squat, thickset personage, with a low, retreating forehead, a coarse shock head of hair, and eyes so small and near together, that his broken nose alone seemed to prevent their meeting and fusing into one of the usual size.
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Life is made of ever so many partings welded together.
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It is the last straw that breaks the camel's back.
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Mr. Cruncher... always spoke of the year of our Lord as Anna Dominoes: apparently under the impression that the Christian era dated from the invention of a popular game, by a lady who had bestowed her name upon it.
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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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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.
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Send forth the child and childish man together, and blush for the pride that libels our own old happy state, and gives its title to an ugly and distorted image.
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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...
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A man can well afford to be as bold as brass, my good fellow, when he gets gold in exchange!
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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!
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He was consious of a thousand odours floating in the air, each one connected with a thousand thoughts, and hopes, and joys, and cares, long, long, forgotten.
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I hope that real love and truth are stronger in the end than any evil or misfortune in the world.
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It is no worse, because I write of it. It would be no better, if I stopped my most unwilling hand. Nothing can undo it nothing can make it otherwise than as it was.
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Do not repine, my friends, said Mr. Pecksniff, tenderly. Do not weep for me. It is chronic.
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I admire machinery as much is any man, and am as thankful to it as any man can be for what it does for us. But it will never be a substitute for the face of a man, with his soul in it, encouraging another man to be brave and true.
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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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