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Spite is a little word, but it represents as strange a jumble of feelings and compound of discords, as any polysyllable in the language.
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
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Social Critic
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Landport
Hampshire
Dickens
C.Dickens
Charles John Huffam Dickens
Boz
Language
Jumble
Feelings
Compound
Littles
Discord
Little
Compounds
Represents
Spite
Strange
Word
Discords
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O, if the deeds of human creatures could be traced to their source, how beautiful would even death appear for how much charity, mercy, and purified affection would be seen to have their growth in dusty graves!
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... as lonesome as a kitten in a wash-house copper with the lid on.
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In the little world in which children have their existence, whosoever brings them up, there is nothing so finely perceived and so finely felt, as injustice.
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There was not one straight floor from the foundation to the roof the ceilings were so fantastically clouded by smoke and dust, that old women might have told fortunes in them better than in grouts of tea.
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For your popular rumour, unlike the rolling stone of the proverb, is one which gathers a deal of moss in its wanderings up and down.
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Never imitate the eccentricities of genius, but toil after it in its truer flights. They are not so easy to follow, but they lead to higher regions.
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Skewered through and through with office-pens, and bound hand and foot with red tape.
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I love your daughter fondly, dearly, disinterestedly, devotedly. If ever there were love in the world, I love her.
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Bring in the bottled lightning, a clean tumbler, and a corkscrew.
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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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Marley was dead, to begin with ... This must be distintly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate.
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I have been bent and broken, but - I hope - into a better shape.
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I can never close my lips where I have opened my heart
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If a pig could give his mind to anything, he would not be a pig.
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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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Happy, happy Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions of our childhood days, recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth, and transport the traveler back to his own fireside and quiet home!
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Make them laugh, make them cry, make them wait.
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We lawyers are always curious, always inquisitive, always picking up odds and ends for our patchwork minds, since there is no knowing when and where they may fit into some corner.
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...and to-morrow looked in my face more steadily than I could look at it
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And a beautiful world we live in, when it is possible, and when many other such things are possible, and not only possible, but done-- done, see you!-- under that sky there, every day.
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