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I am what you designed me to be.I am your blade. You cannot now complain if you also feel the hurt
Charles Dickens
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Charles Dickens
Age: 58 †
Born: 1812
Born: February 7
Died: 1870
Died: June 9
Author
Editor
Journalist
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Landport
Hampshire
Dickens
C.Dickens
Charles John Huffam Dickens
Boz
Feel
Blade
Feels
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Complain
Designed
Complaining
Hurt
Cannot
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I could settle down into a state of equable low spirits, and resign myself to coffee.
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What greater gift than the love of a cat.
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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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It will be your duty, and it will be your pleasure too to estimate her (as you chose her) by the qualities that she has, and not by the qualities she may not have.
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This is a world of action, and not moping and droning in.
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She's a very charming and delightful creature, quoth Mr. Robert Sawyer, in reply and has only one fault that I know of, Ben. It happens, unfortunately, that that single blemish is a want of taste. She don't like me.
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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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Mr. Bazzard's father, being a Norfolk farmer, would have furiously laid about him with a flail, a pitch-fork, and every agricultural implement available for assaulting purposes, on the slightest hint of his son's having written a play.
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Can you suppose there's any harm in looking as cheerful and being as cheerful as our poor circumstances will permit?
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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.
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But, tears were not the things to find their way to Mr. Bumble's soul his heart was waterproof.
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... still his philanthropy was of that gunpowderous sort that the difference between it and animosity was hard to determine.
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The dew seemed to sparkle more brightly on the green leaves the air to rustle among them with a sweeter music and the sky itself to look more blue and bright. Such is the influence which the condition of our own thoughts, exercise, even over the appearance of external objects.
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Great men are seldom over-scrupulous in the arrangement of their attire.
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Old Marley was dead as a doornail... The wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile.
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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.
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