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

More quotes by Charles Lamb

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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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I know that a sweet child is the sweetest thing in nature, not even excepting the delicate creatures which bear them.
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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.
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In some respects the better a book is, the less it demands from the binding.
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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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I never knew an enemy to puns who was not an ill-natured man.
Charles Lamb
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To pile up honey upon sugar, and sugar upon honey, to an interminable tedious sweetness.
Charles Lamb
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A sweet child is the sweetest thing in nature.
Charles Lamb
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Why are we never quite at ease in the presence of a schoolmaster? Because we are conscious that he is not quite at his ease in ours. He is awkward, and out of place in the society of his equals. He comes like Gulliver from among his little people, and he cannot fit the stature of his understanding to yours.
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You look wise, pray correct that error.
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Go where glory waits thee! But while fame elates thee, Oh, still remember me!
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No eye to watch, and no tongue to wound us, All earth forgot, and all heaven around us.
Charles Lamb
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Literature is a bad crutch, but a good walking-stick.
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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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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?
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!
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The vices of some men are magnificent.
Charles Lamb
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There are like to be short graces where the devil plays host.
Charles Lamb
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A poor relation—is the most irrelevant thing in nature.
Charles Lamb
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A man cannot have a pure mind who refuses apple dumplings.
Charles Lamb