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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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Charles Lamb
Age: 59 †
Born: 1775
Born: February 10
Died: 1834
Died: December 27
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Writer
London
England
Soul
Memory
Long
Green
Tears
Memories
Shall
Rolls
Secret
Tear
Though
Shed
Keep
Souls
More quotes by Charles Lamb
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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Oh call it by some better name, For friendship sounds too cold.
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Half as sober as a judge.
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Think what you would have been now, if instead of being fed with tales and old wives' fables in childhood, you had been crammed with geography and natural history!
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Mother's love grows by giving.
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I have passed all my days in London, until I have formed as many and intense local attachments as any of you mountaineers can have done with dead nature.
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I cannot sit and think books think for me.
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Positively, the best thing a man can have to do, is nothing, and next to that perhaps — good works.
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Much depends upon when and where you read a book. In the five or six impatient minutes before the dinner is quite ready, who would think of taking up the Faerie Queen for a stopgap, or a volume of Bishop Andrews's Sermons?
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Asparagus inspires gentle thoughts.
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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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Opinions is a species of property - I am always desirous of sharing.
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Do not fold, spindle or mutilate.
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Here cometh April again, and as far as I can see the world hath more fools in it than ever.
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Lawyers, I suppose, were children once.
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We do not go to the theatre like our ancestors, to escape from the pressure of reality, so much as to confirm our experience of it.
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Go where glory waits thee! But while fame elates thee, Oh, still remember me!
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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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If there be a regal solitude, it is a sick-bed. How the patient lords it there!
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There is a pleasure in affecting affectation.
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