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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.
Charles Dickens
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Charles Dickens
Age: 58 †
Born: 1812
Born: February 7
Died: 1870
Died: June 9
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Charles John Huffam Dickens
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More quotes by Charles Dickens
Home is like the ship at sea, Sailing on eternally Oft the anchor forth we cast, But can never make it fast.
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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.
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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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My advice is to never do tomorrow what you can do today. Procrastination is the thief of time.
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When the time comes, let loose a tiger and a devil but wait for the time with the tiger and the devil chained -not shown- yet always ready.
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The most important thing in life is to stop saying 'I wish' and start saying 'I will.' Consider nothing impossible, then treat possibilities as probabilities.
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Every man, however obscure, however far removed from the general recognition, is one of a group of men impressible for good, and impressible for evil, and it is in the nature of things that he cannot really improve himself without in some degree improving other men.
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True love believes everything, and bears everything, and trusts everything.
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Christmas a humbug, uncle! said Scrooge's nephew. You don't mean that, I am sure? I do, said Scrooge. Merry Christmas! What right have you to be merry? what reason have you to be merry? You're poor enough.
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My daughter, there are times of moral danger when the hardest virtuous resolution to form is flight, and when the most heroic bravery is flight.
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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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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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Old Time, that greatest and longest established spinner of all!... his factory is a secret place, his work is noiseless, and his Hands are mutes.
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A new heart for a New Year, always!
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[I]t seemed as if the streets were absorbed by the sky, and the night were all in the air.
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There is no substitute for thoroughgoing, ardent, and sincere earnestness.
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Think now and then that there is a man who would give his life, to keep a life you love beside you.
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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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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.
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The man who now confronted Gashford, was a squat, thickset personage, with a low, retreating forehead, a coarse shock head of hair, and eyes so small and near together, that his broken nose alone seemed to prevent their meeting and fusing into one of the usual size.
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