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May my last breath be drawn through a pipe, and exhaled in a jest.

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
Breath
Breaths
Lasts
Last
Exhaled
May
Jest
Pipe
Drawn
Smoking

More quotes by Charles Lamb

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She unbent her mind afterwards - over a book.
Charles Lamb
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Whose wit in the combat, as gentle as bright, Ne'er carried a heart-stain away on its blade.
Charles Lamb
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The drinking man is never less himself than during his sober intervals.
Charles Lamb
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The greatest pleasure I know, is to do a good action by stealth, and to have it found out by accident.
Charles Lamb
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Oh call it by some better name, For friendship sounds too cold.
Charles Lamb
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I conceive disgust at these impertinent and misbecoming familiarities inscribed upon your ordinary tombstone.
Charles Lamb
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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.
Charles Lamb
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Philanthropy, like charity, must begin at home.
Charles Lamb
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Your absence of mind we have borne, till your presence of body came to be called in question by it.
Charles Lamb
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There are like to be short graces where the devil plays host.
Charles Lamb
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Is it a stale remark to say that I have constantly found the interest excited at a playhouse to bear an exact inverse proportion to the price paid for admission?
Charles Lamb
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I have done all that I came into this world to do. I have worked task work, and have the rest of the day to myself.
Charles Lamb
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For thy sake, tobacco, I would do anything but die.
Charles Lamb
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Gone before To that unknown and silent shore.
Charles Lamb
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How sickness enlarges the dimensions of a man's self to himself! Supreme selfishness is inculcated upon him as his only duty.
Charles Lamb
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Anything awful makes me laugh. I misbehaved once at a funeral.
Charles Lamb
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Literature is a bad crutch, but a good walking-stick.
Charles Lamb
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This world is all a fleeting show, For man's illusion given The smiles of joy, the tears of woe, Deceitful shine, deceitful flow, Theres nothing true but Heaven.
Charles Lamb
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Farewell, farewell to thee, Araby's daughter! Thus warbled a Peri beneath the dark sea.
Charles Lamb
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Fly not yet 't is just the hour When pleasure, like the midnight flower That scorns the eye of vulgar light, Begins to bloom for sons of night And maids who love the moon.
Charles Lamb