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Here cometh April again, and as far as I can see the world hath more fools in it than ever.
Charles Lamb
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Charles Lamb
Age: 59 †
Born: 1775
Born: February 10
Died: 1834
Died: December 27
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Writer
London
England
Fool
Ever
Cometh
World
Pranks
Fooled
April
Fools
Hath
Spring
More quotes by Charles Lamb
How some they have died, and some they have left me, And some are taken from me all are departed All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
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For thy sake, tobacco, I would do anything but die.
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In some respects the better a book is, the less it demands from the binding.
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Is the world all grown up? Is childhood dead? Or is there not in the bosom of the wisest and the best some of the child's heart left, to respond to its earliest enchantments?
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How sickness enlarges the dimensions of a man's self to himself! Supreme selfishness is inculcated upon him as his only duty.
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The measure of choosing well, is, whether a man likes and finds good in what he has chosen.
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I know that a sweet child is the sweetest thing in nature?but the prettier the kind of a thing is, the more desirable it is that it should be pretty of its kind.
Charles Lamb
The world meets nobody half way.
Charles Lamb
I hate a man who swallows [his food], affecting not to know what he is eating. I suspect his taste in higher matters.
Charles Lamb
O money, money, how blindly thou hast been worshipped, and how stupidly abused! Thou are health and liberty and strength, and he that has thee may rattle his pockets at the foul fiend!
Charles Lamb
Satire does not look pretty upon a tombstone.
Charles Lamb
Shut not thy purse-strings always against painted distress.
Charles Lamb
In the Negro countenance you will often meet with strong traits of benignity. I have felt yearnings of tenderness towards some of these faces.
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Dream not ... of having tasted all the grandeur and wildness of fancy till you have gone mad!
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You do not play then at whist, sir? Alas, what a sad old age you are preparing for yourself!
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May my last breath be drawn through a pipe, and exhaled in a jest.
Charles Lamb
I conceive disgust at these impertinent and misbecoming familiarities inscribed upon your ordinary tombstone.
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If there be a regal solitude, it is a sick-bed. How the patient lords it there!
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For with G. D., to be absent from the body is sometimes (not to speak profanely) to be present with the Lord.
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I have passed all my days in London, until I have formed as many and intense local attachments as any of you mountaineers can have done with dead nature.
Charles Lamb