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Shakespeare is one of the last books one should like to give up, perhaps the one just before the Dying Service in a large Prayer book.

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
Last
Shakespeare
Give
Service
Book
Large
Giving
Dying
Like
Perhaps
Prayer
Books
Lasts

More quotes by Charles Lamb

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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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Tis unpleasant to meet a beggar. It is painful to deny him and, if you relieve him, it is so much out of your pocket.
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A sweet child is the sweetest thing in nature.
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Boys are capital fellows in their own way, among their mates but they are unwholesome companions for grown people.
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The vices of some men are magnificent.
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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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We are nothing less than nothing, and dreams. We are only what might have been, and must wait upon the tedious shores of Lethe millions of ages before we have existence, and a name.
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No work is worse than overwork the mind preys on itself,--the most unwholesome of food.
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Philanthropy, like charity, must begin at home.
Charles Lamb
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There is a pleasure in affecting affectation.
Charles Lamb
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The laws of Pluto's kingdom know small difference between king and cobbler, manager and call-boy and, if haply your dates of life were conterminant, you are quietly taking your passage, cheek by cheek (O ignoble levelling of Death) with the shade of some recently departed candle-snuffer.
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Coleridge declares that a man cannot have a good conscience who refuses apple dumplings, and I confess that I am of the same opinion.
Charles Lamb
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Milton almost requires a solemn service of music to be played before you enter upon him. But he brings his music, to which who listen had need bring docile thoughts and purged ears.
Charles Lamb
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I cannot sit and think books think for me.
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Gone before To that unknown and silent shore.
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English physicians kill you, the French let you die.
Charles Lamb
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The man must have a rare recipe for melancholy, who can be dull in Fleet Street.
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Rags, which are the reproach of poverty, are the beggar's robes, and graceful insignia of his profession, his tenure, his full dress, the suit in which he is expected to show himself in public.
Charles Lamb
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To pile up honey upon sugar, and sugar upon honey, to an interminable tedious sweetness.
Charles Lamb
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If dirt were trumps, what hands you would hold!
Charles Lamb