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

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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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When twilight dews are falling soft Upon the rosy sea, love, I watch the star whose beam so oft Has lighted me to thee, love.
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I counsel thee, shut not thy heart, nor thy library.
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Ceremony is an invention to take off the uneasy feeling which we derive from knowing ourselves to be less the object of love and esteem with a fellow-creature than some other person is. It endeavours to make up, by superior attentions in little points, for that invidious preference which it is forced to deny in the greater.
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Separate from the pleasure of your company, I don't much care if I never see another mountain in my life.
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It is well if the good man himself does not feel his devotions a little clouded, those foggy sensuous steams mingling with and polluting the pure altar surface.
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Go where glory waits thee! But while fame elates thee, Oh, still remember me!
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A child's nature is too serious a thing to admit of its being regarded as a mere appendage to another being.
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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.
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Philanthropy, like charity, must begin at home.
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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.
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By myself walking, To myself talking.
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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.
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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.
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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!
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A presentation copy, reader,-if haply you are yet innocent of such favours-is a copy of a book which does not sell, sent you by the author.
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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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Newspapers always excite curiosity. No one ever puts one down without the feeling of disappointment.
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Summer, as my friend Coleridge waggishly writes, has set in with its usual severity.
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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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