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I am, in plainer words, a bundle of prejudices - made up of likings and dislikings.

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
Likings
Plainer
Bundle
Bundles
Prejudices
Prejudice
Words
Made

More quotes by Charles Lamb

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Books think for me. I can read anything which I call a book.
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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Don't introduce me to that man! I want to go on hating him, and I can't hate a man whom I know.
Charles Lamb
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The world meets nobody half way.
Charles Lamb
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Asparagus inspires gentle thoughts.
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!
Charles Lamb
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In the Negro countenance you will often meet with strong traits of benignity. I have felt yearnings of tenderness towards some of these faces.
Charles Lamb
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I have done all that I came into this world to do. I have worked task work, and have the rest of the day to myself.
Charles Lamb
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Newspapers always excite curiosity. No one ever puts one down without the feeling of disappointment.
Charles Lamb
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The greatest pleasure I know, is to do a good action by stealth, and to have it found out by accident.
Charles Lamb
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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.
Charles Lamb
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I counsel thee, shut not thy heart, nor thy library.
Charles Lamb
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Summer, as my friend Coleridge waggishly writes, has set in with its usual severity.
Charles Lamb
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As half in shade and half in sun This world along its path advances, May that side the sun 's upon Be all that e'er shall meet thy glances!
Charles Lamb
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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.
Charles Lamb
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We were happier when we were poorer, but we were also younger.
Charles Lamb
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Fly not yet 't is just the hour When pleasure, like the midnight flower That scorns the eye of vulgar light, Begins to bloom for sons of night And maids who love the moon.
Charles Lamb
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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.
Charles Lamb
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Do not fold, spindle or mutilate.
Charles Lamb
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English physicians kill you, the French let you die.
Charles Lamb