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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.
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
Made
Selfishness
Always
Wild
People
Weakness
Dangerous
Hear
Uproar
Others
Lamentation
Littles
Contagion
Little
Wondered
More quotes by Charles Dickens
My comfort is, said Susan, looking back at Mr. Dombey, that I have told a piece of truth this day which ought to have been told long before and can't be told too often or too plain...
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Well, said my aunt, this is his boy - his son. He would be as like his father as it's possible to be, if he was not so like his mother, too.
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Time was with most of us, when Christmas Day, encircling all our limited world like a magic ring, left nothing out for us to miss or seek bound together all our home enjoyments, affections, and hopes grouped everything and everyone round the Christmas fire, and make the little picture shining in our bright young eyes, complete.
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He had but one eye, and the popular prejudice runs in favor of two.
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The very dogs were all asleep, and the flies, drunk with moist sugar in the grocer's shop, forgot their wings and briskness, and baked to death in dusty corners of the window.
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When death strikes down the innocent and young, for every fragile form from which he lets the panting spirit free, a hundred virtues rise, in shapes of mercy, charity, and love, to walk the world and bless it. Of every tear that sorrowing mortals shed on such green graves, some good is born, some gentler nature comes.
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Some happy talent, and some fortunate opportunity, may form the two sides of the ladder on which some men mount, but the rounds of that ladder must be made of stuff to stand wear and tear and there is no substitute for thorough-going, ardent, and sincere earnestness.
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Regrets are the natural property of grey hairs.
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Most men are individuals no longer so far as their business, its activities, or its moralities are concerned. They are not units but fractions.
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If you can't get to be oncommon through going straight, you'll never get to do it through going crooked. So don't tell no more on 'em, Pip, and live well and die happy.
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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 is nothing so strong or safe in an emergency of life as the simple truth.
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I fear your kind and open communication, which has rendered me more painfully conscious of my own defects, has not improved me, sighed Kate.
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Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration.
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Mr. Tulkinghorn, sitting in the twilight by the open window, enjoys his wine. As if it whispered to him of its fifty years of silence and seclusion, it shuts him up the closer. More impenetrable than ever, he sits, and drinks, and mellows as it were in secrecy, pondering at that twilight hour on all the mysteries he knows.
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As he glided stealthily along, creeping beneath the shelter of the walls and doorways, the hideous old man seemed like some loathsome reptile, engendered in the slime and darkness through which he moved: crawling forth, by night, in search of some rich offal for a meal.
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Missionaries are perfect nuisances and leave every place worse than they found it.
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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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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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Newman cast a despairing glance at his small store of fuel, but, not having the courage to say no-a word which in all his life he never had said at the right time, either to himself or anyone else-gave way to the proposed arrangement.
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