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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!
Charles Dickens
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Charles Dickens
Age: 58 †
Born: 1812
Born: February 7
Died: 1870
Died: June 9
Author
Editor
Journalist
Novelist
Playwright
Social Critic
Writer
Landport
Hampshire
Dickens
C.Dickens
Charles John Huffam Dickens
Boz
Men
Lies
Lawsuits
Love
Among
Perjury
Grow
Lawsuit
Grows
Sowing
Rich
Kindred
Lying
Graves
Nothing
Near
Every
Hatred
More quotes by Charles Dickens
This is the even-handed dealing of the world! he said. There is noth-ing on which it is so hard as poverty and there is nothing it professes tocondemn with such severity as the pursuit of wealth!
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Others had been a little wild, which was not to be wondered at, and not very blamable but, he had made a lamentation and uproar which it was dangerous for the people to hear, as there is always contagion in weakness and selfishness.
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At the great iron gate of the churchyard he stopped and looked in. He looked up at the high tower spectrally resisting the wind, and he looked round at the white tombstones, like enough to the dead in their winding-sheets, and he counted the nine tolls of the clock-bell.
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It would have been cruel in Miss Havisham, horribly cruel, to practise on the susceptibility of a poor boy, and to torture me through all these years with a vain hope and an idle pursuit, if she had reflected on the gravity of what she did. But I think she did not. I think that in the endurance of her own trial, she forgot mine, Estella.
Charles Dickens
Stephen Blackpool fall into the loneliest of lives, the life of solitude among a familiar crowd. The stranger in the land who looks into ten thousand faces for some answering look and never finds it, is in cheering society as compared with him who passes ten averted faces daily, that were once the countenances of friends
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Poverty and oysters always seem to go together.
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The world belongs to those who set out to conquer it armed with self confidence and good humour.
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But tears were not the things to find their way to Mr. Bumble’s soul his heart was waterproof. Like washable beaver hats that improve with rain, his nerves were rendered stouter and more vigorous, by showers of tears, which, being tokens of weakness, and so far tacit admissions of his own power, pleased and exalted him.
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You have been the last dream of my soul.
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A new heart for a New Year, always!
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Hallo! A great deal of steam! the pudding was out of the copper. A smell like a washing-day! That was the cloth. A smell like an eating-house and a pastrycook's next door to each other, with a laundress's next door to that. That was the pudding.
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All of us have wonders hidden in our breasts, only needing circumstances to evoke them.
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Mr. Bazzard's father, being a Norfolk farmer, would have furiously laid about him with a flail, a pitch-fork, and every agricultural implement available for assaulting purposes, on the slightest hint of his son's having written a play.
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[I]t seemed as if the streets were absorbed by the sky, and the night were all in the air.
Charles Dickens
Come, let's be a comfortable couple and take care of each other! How glad we shall be, that we have somebody we are fond of always, to talk to and sit with.
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Look round and round upon this bare bleak plain, and see even here, upon a winter's day, how beautiful the shadows are! Alas! It is the nature of their kind to be so. The loveliest things in life... are but shadows and they come and go, and change and fade away, as rapidly as these.
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At last, however, he began to think -- as you or I would have thought at first for it is always the person not in the predicament who knows what ought to have been done in it, and would unquestionably have done it too . . .
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Death may beget life, but oppression can beget nothing other than itself.
Charles Dickens
Marley was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it. And Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.
Charles Dickens
If I could not walk far and fast, I think I should just explode and perish.
Charles Dickens
