Quote

This very night I am going to leave off tobacco! Surely there must be some other world in which this unconquerable purpose shall be realised.

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
Purpose
Night
Unconquerable
Must
Tobacco
Going
Realised
World
Smoking
Surely
Leave
Shall

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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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My theory is to enjoy life, but my practice is against it.
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A babe is fed with milk and praise.
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You may derive thoughts from others your way of thinking, the mould in which your thoughts are cast, must be your own.
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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.
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Books of quick interest, that hurry on for incidents are for the eye to glide over only. It will not do to read them out. I could never listen to even the better kind of modern novels without extreme irksomeness.
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Don't introduce me to that man! I want to go on hating him, and I can't hate a man whom I know.
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The cheerful Sabbath bells, wherever heard, Strike pleasant on the sense, most like the voice Of one, who from the far-off hills proclaims Tidings of good to Zion.
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I love to lose myself in other men's minds.... Books think for me.
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To be sick is to enjoy monarchical prerogatives.
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She unbent her mind afterwards - over a book.
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How convalescence shrinks a man back to his pristine stature! where is now the space, which he occupied so lately, in his own, in the family's eye?
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Not if I know myself at all.
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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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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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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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Do not fold, spindle or mutilate.
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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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Mother's love grows by giving.
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The man must have a rare recipe for melancholy, who can be dull in Fleet Street.
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