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In some respects the better a book is, the less it demands from the binding.
Charles Lamb
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Charles Lamb
Age: 59 †
Born: 1775
Born: February 10
Died: 1834
Died: December 27
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
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London
England
Binding
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Demands
Demand
Less
Better
Book
More quotes by Charles Lamb
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
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
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?
Charles Lamb
A man may do very well with a very little knowledge, and scarce be found out in mixed company everybody is so much more ready to produce his own, than to call for a display of your acquisitions.
Charles Lamb
If dirt were trumps, what hands you would hold!
Charles Lamb
Boys are capital fellows in their own way, among their mates but they are unwholesome companions for grown people.
Charles Lamb
Not if I know myself at all.
Charles Lamb
No work is worse than overwork the mind preys on itself,--the most unwholesome of food.
Charles Lamb
I love to lose myself in other men's minds.... Books think for me.
Charles Lamb
We all have some taste or other, of too ancient a date to admit of our remembering it was an acquired one.
Charles Lamb
I am, in plainer words, a bundle of prejudices - made up of likings and dislikings.
Charles Lamb
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.
Charles Lamb
The world meets nobody half way.
Charles Lamb
Lawyers, I suppose, were children once.
Charles Lamb
No eye to watch, and no tongue to wound us, All earth forgot, and all heaven around us.
Charles Lamb
A man cannot have a pure mind who refuses apple dumplings.
Charles Lamb
Sassafras wood boiled down to a kind of tea, and tempered with an infusion of milk and sugar hath to some a delicacy beyond the China luxury.
Charles Lamb
Were I Diogenes, I would not move out of a kilderkin into a hogshead, though the first had had nothing but small beer in it, and the second reeked claret.
Charles Lamb
Summer, as my friend Coleridge waggishly writes, has set in with its usual severity.
Charles Lamb
Satire does not look pretty upon a tombstone.
Charles Lamb