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The broken heart. You think you will die, but you just keep living, day after day after terrible day.
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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Journalist
Novelist
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Landport
Hampshire
Dickens
C.Dickens
Charles John Huffam Dickens
Boz
Keep
Heart
Think
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Broken
Terrible
Dies
Living
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It was the first time it had ever occurred to me, that this detestable cant of false humility might have originated out of the Heep family. I had seen the harvest, but had never thought of the seed.
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The rippling of the river seemed to cause a correspondent stir in his uneasy reflections. He would have laid them asleep if he could, but they were in movement, like the stream, and all tending one way with a strong current.
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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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Mr. Tulkinghorn, sitting in the twilight by the open window, enjoys his wine. As if it whispered to him of its fifty years of silence and seclusion, it shuts him up the closer. More impenetrable than ever, he sits, and drinks, and mellows as it were in secrecy, pondering at that twilight hour on all the mysteries he knows.
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And the voices in the waves are always whispering to Florence, in their ceaseless murmuring, of love - of love, eternal and illimitable, not bounded by the confines of this world, or by the end of time, but ranging still, beyond the sea, beyond the sky, to the invisible country far away!
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He had a certain air of being a handsome man-which he was not and a certain air of being a well-bred man-which he was not. It was mere swagger and challenge but in this particular, as in many others, blustering assertion goes for proof, half over the world.
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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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. . . in seclusion, she had secluded herself from a thousand natural and healing influences that, her mind, brooding solitary, had grown diseased, as all minds do and must and will that reverse the appointed order of their Maker . . .
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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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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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To have a cricket on the hearth is the luckiest thing in all the world!
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What lawsuits grow out of the graves of rich men, every day sowing perjury, hatred, and lies among near kindred, where there should be nothing but love!
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It was a long and gloomy night that gathered on me, haunted by the ghosts of many hopes, of many dear remembrances, many errors, many unavailing sorrows and regrets.
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