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Shut not thy purse-strings always against painted distress.

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
Shut
Charity
Philanthropic
Always
Purse
Purses
Painted
Philanthropy
Distress
Strings

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A pun is not bound by the laws which limit nicer wit. It is a pistol let off at the ear not a feather to tickle the intellect.
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A man cannot have a pure mind who refuses apple dumplings.
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My theory is to enjoy life, but my practice is against it.
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There are like to be short graces where the devil plays host.
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For thy sake, tobacco, I would do anything but die.
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To be thankful for what we grasp exceeding our proportion is to add hypocrisy to injustice.
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No one ever regarded the first of January with indifference.
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And when once the young heart of a maiden is stolen, The maiden herself will steal after it soon.
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In some respects the better a book is, the less it demands from the binding.
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A poor relation—is the most irrelevant thing in nature.
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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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The going away of friends does not make the remainder more precious. It takes so much from them as there was a common link. A. B. and C. make a party. A. dies. B. not only loses A. but all A.'s part in C. C. loses A.'s part in B., and so the alphabet sickens by subtraction of interchangeables.
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Man is a gaming animal. He must always be trying to get the better in something or other.
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To sigh, yet feel no pain To weep, yet scarce know why To sport an hour with Beauty's chain, Then throw it idly by.
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There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet.
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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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Oh for a tongue to curse the slave Whose treason, like a deadly blight, Comes o'er the councils of the brave, And blasts them in their hour of might!
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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
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Farewell, farewell to thee, Araby's daughter! Thus warbled a Peri beneath the dark sea.
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My only books Were woman's looks,- And folly 's all they 've taught me.
Charles Lamb