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A sweet child is the sweetest thing in nature.

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
Nature
Children
Thing
Sweetest
Sweet
Child

More quotes by 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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She unbent her mind afterwards - over a book.
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You may derive thoughts from others your way of thinking, the mould in which your thoughts are cast, must be your own.
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Let us live for the beauty of our own reality.
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Philanthropy, like charity, must begin at home.
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The world meets nobody half way.
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Books think for me. I can read anything which I call a book.
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We were happier when we were poorer, but we were also younger.
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Not many sounds in life, and I include all urban and all rural sounds, exceed in interest a knock at the door.
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To be sick is to enjoy monarchical prerogatives.
Charles Lamb
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A flow'ret crushed in the bud, A nameless piece of Babyhood, Was in her cradle-coffin lying Extinct, with scarce the sense of dying
Charles Lamb
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Positively, the best thing a man can have to do, is nothing, and next to that perhaps — good works.
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 have sat through an Italian opera, til, for sheer pain, and inexplicable anguish, I have rushed out into the noisiest places of the crowded street, to solace myself with sounds which I was not obliged to follow and get rid of the distracting torment of endless, fruitless, barren attention!
Charles Lamb
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The pilasters reaching down were adorned with a glistering substance (I know not what) under glass (as it seemed), resembling - a homely fancy, but I judged it to be sugar-candy yet to my raised imagination, divested of its homelier qualities, it appeared a glorified candy.
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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How convalescence shrinks a man back to his pristine stature! where is now the space, which he occupied so lately, in his own, in the family's eye?
Charles Lamb
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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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Oh stay! oh stay! Joy so seldom weaves a chain Like this to-night, that oh 't is pain To break its links so soon.
Charles Lamb
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Mother's love grows by giving.
Charles Lamb