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O' course I came to look arter you, my darlin', replied Mr. Weller for once permitting his passion to get the better of his veracity.
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
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and, unlike the celebrated herd in the poem, they were not forty children conducting themselves as one, but every child was conducting itself like forty.
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The clouds were drifting over the moon at their giddiest speed, at one time wholly obscuring her, at another, suffering her to burst forth in full splendor and shed her light on all the objects around anon, driving over her again, with increased velocity, and shrouding everything in darkness.
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She's the sort of woman now,' said Mould, . . . 'one would almost feel disposed to bury for nothing: and do it neatly, too!
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Although a skillful flatterer is a most delightful companion if you have him all to yourself, his taste becomes very doubtful when he takes to complimenting other people.
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I confess I have yet to learn that a lesson of the purest good may not be drawn from the vilest evil.
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Heaped on the floor were turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn, great joints of meat, sucking pigs, long wreaths of sausages, mince-pies, plum-puddings, bartrels of oysters, re-hot chestnuts, cherry-cheeked apples, juicy oranges, luscious pears, immense twelfth-cakes, and seething bowls of punch that made the chamber dim with their delicious steam.
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We are so very 'umble.
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An observer of men who finds himself steadily repelled by some apparently trifling thing in a stranger is right to give it great weight. It may be the clue to the whole mystery. A hair or two will show where a lion is hidden. A very little key will open a very heavy door.
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There was a piece of ornamental water immediately below the parapet, on the other side, into which Mr. James Harthouse had a very strong inclination to pitch Mr. Thomas Gradgrind Junior.
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From the days when it was always summer in Eden, to these days when it is mostly winter in fallen latitudes, the world of a man has invariably gone one way Charles Darnay's way the way of the love of a woman
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I only ask to be free. The butterflies are free. Mankind will surely not deny to Harold Skimpole what it concedes to the butterflies.
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But injustice breeds injustice the fighting with shadows and being defeated by them necessitates the setting up of substances to combat.
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Yet, I had nothing else to tell unless, indeed, I were to confess (which might be of less moment still), that no one can ever believe this Narrative, in the reading, more than I believed it in the writing.
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Strong mental agitation and disturbance was no novelty to him, even before his late sufferings. It never is, to obstinate and sullen natures for they struggle hard to be such.
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To close the eyes, and give a seemly comfort to the apparel of the dead, is poverty's holiest touch of nature.
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We need never be ashamed of our tears.
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She better liked to see him free and happy, even than to have him near her, because she loved him better than herself.
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Wen you're a married man, Samivel, you'll understand a good many things as you don't understand now but vether it's worth while goin' through so much to learn so little, as the charity-boy sand ven he go to the end of the alphabet, it's a matter of taste.
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Not knowing how he lost himself, or how he recovered himself, he may never feel certain of not losing himself again.
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