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Philanthropy, like charity, must begin at home.

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
Philanthropy
Charity
Begin
Home
Must
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More quotes by Charles Lamb

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I hate a man who swallows [his food], affecting not to know what he is eating. I suspect his taste in higher matters.
Charles Lamb
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You do not play then at whist, sir? Alas, what a sad old age you are preparing for yourself!
Charles Lamb
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While childhood, and while dreams, producing childhood, shall be left, imagination shall not have spread her holy wings totally to fly the earth.
Charles Lamb
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The only true time which a man can properly call his own, is that which he has all to himself the rest, though in some sense he may be said to live it, is other people's time, not his.
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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I love to lose myself in other men's minds.... Books think for me.
Charles Lamb
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There is a pleasure in affecting affectation.
Charles Lamb
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There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet.
Charles Lamb
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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.
Charles Lamb
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And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls, Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.
Charles Lamb
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I never knew an enemy to puns who was not an ill-natured man.
Charles Lamb
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Here cometh April again, and as far as I can see the world hath more fools in it than ever.
Charles Lamb
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Man is a gaming animal. He must always be trying to get the better in something or other.
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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Lawyers, I suppose, were children once.
Charles Lamb
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A presentation copy...is a copy of a book whoch does not sell, sent you by the author, with his foolish autograph at the beginning of it for which, if a stranger, he only demands your friendship if a brother author, he expects from you a book of yours, which does not sell, in return.
Charles Lamb
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A babe is fed with milk and praise.
Charles Lamb
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By myself walking, To myself talking.
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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Those evening bells! those evening bells! How many a tale their music tells Of youth and home, and that sweet time When last I heard their soothing chime!
Charles Lamb