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Have a heart that never hardens
Charles Dickens
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Charles Dickens
Age: 58 †
Born: 1812
Born: February 7
Died: 1870
Died: June 9
Author
Editor
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Landport
Hampshire
Dickens
C.Dickens
Charles John Huffam Dickens
Boz
Hardens
Heart
Never
More quotes by Charles Dickens
The blossom is blighted, the leaf is withered, the God of day goes down upon the dreary scene, and in short you are for ever floored.
Charles Dickens
... Arthur Gride, whose bleared eyes gloated only over the outward beauties, and were blind to the spirit which reigned within, evinced - a fantastic kind of warmth certainly, but not exactly that kind of warmth of feeling which the contemplation of virtue usually inspires.
Charles Dickens
There is prodigious strength in sorrow and despair.
Charles Dickens
Miss Mills replied, on general principles, that the Cottage of content was better than the Palace of cold splendour, and that where love was, all was.
Charles Dickens
And I am quite serious when I say that I do not believe there are, on the whole earth besides, so many intensified bores as in these United States.
Charles Dickens
May not the complaint, that common people are above their station, often take its rise in the fact of uncommon people being below theirs?
Charles Dickens
I could not help wondering in my own mind....how it came to pass that our joints of meat were of such extraordinary shapes - and whether our butcher contracted for all the deformed sheep that came into the world but I kept my reflections to myself.
Charles Dickens
All knives and forks were working away at a rate that was quite alarming very few words were spoken and everybody seemed to eat his utmost, in self defence, as if a famine were expected to set in before breakfast-time to-morrow morning, and it had become high time to assert the first law of nature.
Charles Dickens
And yet I love him. I love him so much and so dearly, that when I sometimes think my life may be but a weary one, I am proud of it and glad of it. I am proud and glad to suffer something for him, even though it is of no service to him, and he will never know of it or care for it.
Charles Dickens
It was a dagger in the haughty father's heart, an arrow in his brain, to see how the flesh and blood he could not disown clung to this obscure stranger, and he sitting by. Not that he cared to whom his daughter turned, or from whom turned away. The swift sharp agony struck through him, as he thought of what his son might do.
Charles Dickens
Home is like the ship at sea, Sailing on eternally Oft the anchor forth we cast, But can never make it fast.
Charles Dickens
I will live in the past, the present, and the future. The spirits of all three shall strive within me.
Charles Dickens
The rich, sweet smell of the hayricks rose to his chamber window the hundred perfumes of the little flower-garden beneath scented the air around the deep-green meadows shone in the morning dew that glistened on every leaf as it trembled in the gentle air: and the birds sang as if every sparkling drop were a fountain of inspiration to them.
Charles Dickens
Skewered through and through with office-pens, and bound hand and foot with red tape.
Charles Dickens
I am what you designed me to be.I am your blade. You cannot now complain if you also feel the hurt
Charles Dickens
This reminds me, Godmother, to ask you a serious question. You are as wise as wise can be (having been brought up by the fairies), and you can tell me this: Is it better to have had a good thing and lost it, or never to have had it?
Charles Dickens
It is because I think so much of warm and sensitive hearts, that I would spare them from being wounded.
Charles Dickens
She's the sort of woman now,' said Mould, . . . 'one would almost feel disposed to bury for nothing: and do it neatly, too!
Charles Dickens
They are Man's and they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance and this girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased.
Charles Dickens
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.
Charles Dickens
