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Who has not felt how sadly sweet The dream of home, the dream of home, Steals o'er the heart, too soon to fleet, When far o'er sea or land we roam?

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
Heart
Stealing
Sea
Soon
Sweet
Land
Fleet
Felt
Roam
Dream
Steals
Home
Sadly

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Not if I know myself at all.
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How some they have died, and some they have left me, And some are taken from me all are departed All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
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It is good to love the unknown.
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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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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.
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We gain nothing by being with such as ourselves. We encourage one another in mediocrity. I am always longing to be with men more excellent than myself.
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The truant Fancy was a wanderer ever.
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Let us live for the beauty of our own reality.
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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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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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The teller of a mirthful tale has latitude allowed him. We are content with less than absolute truth.
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Coleridge declares that a man cannot have a good conscience who refuses apple dumplings, and I confess that I am of the same opinion.
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I cannot sit and think books think for me.
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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!
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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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A man may do very well with a very little knowledge, and scarce be found out in mixed company everybody is so much more ready to produce his own, than to call for a display of your acquisitions.
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Oh call it by some better name, For friendship sounds too cold.
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Lawyers, I suppose, were children once.
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Shall I ask the brave soldier who fights by my side In the cause of mankind, if our creeds agree?
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How I like to be liked, and what I do to be liked!
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