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Gone before To that unknown and silent shore.

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
Gone
Shore
Unknown
Silent
Silence

More quotes by Charles Lamb

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Dream not ... of having tasted all the grandeur and wildness of fancy till you have gone mad!
Charles Lamb
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Oh stay! oh stay! Joy so seldom weaves a chain Like this to-night, that oh 't is pain To break its links so soon.
Charles Lamb
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For thy sake, tobacco, I would do anything but die.
Charles Lamb
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The man must have a rare recipe for melancholy, who can be dull in Fleet Street.
Charles Lamb
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Satire does not look pretty upon a tombstone.
Charles Lamb
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No one ever regarded the First of January with indifference. It is that from which all date their time, and count upon what is left. It is the nativity of our common Adam.
Charles Lamb
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I am, in plainer words, a bundle of prejudices - made up of likings and dislikings.
Charles Lamb
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'T is sweet to think that where'er we rove We are sure to find something blissful and dear And that when we 're far from the lips we love, We 've but to make love to the lips we are near.
Charles Lamb
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A man can never have too much Time to himself, nor too little to do. Had I a little son, I would christen him Nothing-To-Do he should do nothing. Man, I verily believe, is out of his element as long as he is operative. I am altogether for the life contemplative.
Charles Lamb
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How I like to be liked, and what I do to be liked!
Charles Lamb
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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?
Charles Lamb
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A babe is fed with milk and praise.
Charles Lamb
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Positively, the best thing a man can have to do, is nothing, and next to that perhaps — good works.
Charles Lamb
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No one ever regarded the first of January with indifference.
Charles Lamb
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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.
Charles Lamb
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The teller of a mirthful tale has latitude allowed him. We are content with less than absolute truth.
Charles Lamb
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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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The truant Fancy was a wanderer ever.
Charles Lamb
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Boys are capital fellows in their own way, among their mates but they are unwholesome companions for grown people.
Charles Lamb
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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.
Charles Lamb