Quote

Oh for a tongue to curse the slave Whose treason, like a deadly blight, Comes o'er the councils of the brave, And blasts them in their hour of might!

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
Whose
Deadly
Hours
Council
Comes
Bravery
Blasts
Might
Curse
Councils
Like
Tongue
Blight
Slave
Treachery
Brave
Treason
Hour
Blast

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And when once the young heart of a maiden is stolen, The maiden herself will steal after it soon.
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To pile up honey upon sugar, and sugar upon honey, to an interminable tedious sweetness.
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The teller of a mirthful tale has latitude allowed him. We are content with less than absolute truth.
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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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Some people have a knack of putting upon you gifts of no real value, to engage you to substantial gratitude. We thank them for nothing.
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The English writer, Charles Lamb, said one day: I hate that man. But you don't know him. Of course, I don't, said Lamb. Do you think I could possibly hate a man I know?
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For with G. D., to be absent from the body is sometimes (not to speak profanely) to be present with the Lord.
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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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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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Lawyers, I suppose, were children once.
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Opinions is a species of property - I am always desirous of sharing.
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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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There was a little man, and he had a little soul And he said, Little Soul, let us try, try, try!
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Dehortations from the use of strong liquors have been the favourite topic of sober declaimers in all ages, and have been received with abundance of applause by water-drinking critics. But with the patient himself, the man that is to be cured, unfortunately their sound has seldom prevailed.
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Not if I know myself at all.
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A book reads the better which is our own, and has been so long known to us, that we know the topography of its blots, and dog's ears, and can trace the dirt in it to having read it at tea with buttered muffins.
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By myself walking, To myself talking.
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I never knew an enemy to puns who was not an ill-natured man.
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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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It is good to love the unknown.
Charles Lamb