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Take the pencil and write under my name, 'I forgive her.

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
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Landport
Hampshire
Dickens
C.Dickens
Charles John Huffam Dickens
Boz
Forgiving
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Write
Take
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Forgive

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That sort of half sigh, which, accompanied by two or three slight nods of the head, is pity's small change in general society.
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Pale and pinched-up faces hovered about the windows where was tempting food hungry eyes wandered over the profusion guarded by one thin sheet of brittle glass--an iron wall to them half-naked shivering figures stopped to gaze at Chinese shawls and golden stuffs of India.
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All of us have wonders hidden in our breasts, only needing circumstances to evoke them.
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It had grown darker as they talked, and the wind was sawing and the sawdust was whirling outside paler windows. The underlying churchyard was already settling into deep dim shade, and the shade was creeping up to the housetops among which they sat. As if, said Eugene, as if the churchyard ghosts were rising.
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The word of a gentleman is as good as his bond — sometimes better as in the present case, where his bond might prove but a doubtful sort of security.
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It was a foggy day in London, and the fog was heavy and dark. Animate London, with smarting eyes and irritated lungs, was blinking, wheezing, and choking inanimate London was a sooty spectre, divided in purpose between being visible and invisible, and so being wholly neither.
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Without strong affection, and humanity of heart, and gratitude to that Being whose code is mercy, and whose great attribute is benevolence to all things that breathe, true happiness can never be attained.
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A dream, all a dream, that ends in nothing, and leaves the sleeper where he lay down, but I wish you to know that you inspired it.
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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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If I may so express it, I was steeped in Dora. I was not merely over head and ears in love with her, but I was saturated through and through. Enough love might have been wrung out of me, metaphorically speaking, to drown anybody in and yet there would have remained enough within me, and all over me, to pervade my entire existence.
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A commission of haberdashers could alone have reported what the rest of her poor dress was made of, but it had a strong general resemblance to seaweed, with here and there a gigantic tea-leaf. Her shawl looked particularly like a tea-leaf after long infusion.
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The world belongs to those who set out to conquer it armed with self confidence and good humour.
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Before I go, he said, and paused -- I may kiss her? It was remembered afterwards that when he bent down and touched her face with his lips, he murmured some words. The child, who was nearest to him, told them afterwards, and told her grandchildren when she was a handsome old lady, that she heard him say, A life you love.
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... as lonesome as a kitten in a wash-house copper with the lid on.
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I stole her heart away and put ice in its place.
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Oh the nerves, the nerves the mysteries of this machine called man! Oh the little that unhinges it, poor creatures that we are!
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