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Old Marley was dead as a doornail... The wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile.
Charles Dickens
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Charles Dickens
Age: 58 †
Born: 1812
Born: February 7
Died: 1870
Died: June 9
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Landport
Hampshire
Dickens
C.Dickens
Charles John Huffam Dickens
Boz
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Marley
Simile
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More quotes by Charles Dickens
I feel an earnest and humble desire, and shall do till I die, to increase the stock of harmless cheerfulness.
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Dumb as a drum vith a hole in it, sir.
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In particular, there was a butler in a blue coat and bright buttons, who gave quite a winey flavour to the table beer he poured it out so superbly.
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Lord, keep my memory green.
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You fear the world too much,' she answered gently. 'All your other hopes have merged into the hope of being beyond the chance of its sordid reproach. I have seen your nobler aspirations fall off, one by one, until the master passion, Gain, engrosses you. Have I not?
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Any man may be in good spirits and good temper when he's well dressed. There ain't much credit in that.
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All partings foreshadow the great final one.
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I'm awful dull, but I hope I've beat out something nigh the rights of this at last. And so GOD bless you, dear old Pip, old chap, GOD bless you!
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Mrs Joe was a very clean housekeeper, but had an exquisite art of making her clenliness more umcomfortable and unacceptable than dirt itself. Cleanliness is next to godliness, and some people do the same by their religion.
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Have I yet to learn that the hardest and best-borne trials are those which are never chronicled in any earthly record, and are suffered every day!
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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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things cannot be expected to turn up of themselves. We must in a measure assist to turn them up
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And yet I have had the weakness, and have still the weakness, to wish you to know with what a sudden mastery you kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire.
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The last trumpet ever to be sounded shall blow even algebra to wreck.
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...and to-morrow looked in my face more steadily than I could look at it
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And numerous indeed are the hearts to which Christmas brings a brief season of happiness and enjoyment.
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'Mind and matter,' said the lady in the wig, 'glide swift into the vortex if immensity. Howls the sublime, and softly sleeps the calm Ideal, in the whispering chambers of Imagination.'
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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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The heavy rain beat down the tender branches of vine and jessamine, and trampled on them in its fury and when the lightning gleamed, it showed the tearful leaves shivering and cowering together at the window, and tapping at it urgently, as if beseeching to be sheltered from the dismal night.
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How beautiful you are! You are more beautiful in anger than in repose. I don't ask you for your love give me yourself and your hatred give me yourself and that pretty rage give me yourself and that enchanting scorn it will be enough for me.
Charles Dickens