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Satire does not look pretty upon a tombstone.

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
Pretty
Upon
Doe
Look
Looks
Tombstone
Satire

More quotes by Charles Lamb

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The going away of friends does not make the remainder more precious. It takes so much from them as there was a common link. A. B. and C. make a party. A. dies. B. not only loses A. but all A.'s part in C. C. loses A.'s part in B., and so the alphabet sickens by subtraction of interchangeables.
Charles Lamb
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In some respects the better a book is, the less it demands from the binding.
Charles Lamb
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The teller of a mirthful tale has latitude allowed him. We are content with less than absolute truth.
Charles Lamb
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We all have some taste or other, of too ancient a date to admit of our remembering it was an acquired one.
Charles Lamb
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A poor relation—is the most irrelevant thing in nature.
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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I cannot sit and think books think for me.
Charles Lamb
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Ceremony is an invention to take off the uneasy feeling which we derive from knowing ourselves to be less the object of love and esteem with a fellow-creature than some other person is. It endeavours to make up, by superior attentions in little points, for that invidious preference which it is forced to deny in the greater.
Charles Lamb
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It is well if the good man himself does not feel his devotions a little clouded, those foggy sensuous steams mingling with and polluting the pure altar surface.
Charles Lamb
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For thy sake, tobacco, I would do anything but die.
Charles Lamb
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A man can never have too much Time to himself, nor too little to do. Had I a little son, I would christen him Nothing-To-Do he should do nothing. Man, I verily believe, is out of his element as long as he is operative. I am altogether for the life contemplative.
Charles Lamb
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The cheerful Sabbath bells, wherever heard, Strike pleasant on the sense, most like the voice Of one, who from the far-off hills proclaims Tidings of good to Zion.
Charles Lamb
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My theory is to enjoy life, but my practice is against it.
Charles Lamb
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If there be a regal solitude, it is a sick-bed. How the patient lords it there!
Charles Lamb
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I conceive disgust at these impertinent and misbecoming familiarities inscribed upon your ordinary tombstone.
Charles Lamb
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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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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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The truant Fancy was a wanderer ever.
Charles Lamb
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We are nothing less than nothing, and dreams. We are only what might have been, and must wait upon the tedious shores of Lethe millions of ages before we have existence, and a name.
Charles Lamb
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Summer, as my friend Coleridge waggishly writes, has set in with its usual severity.
Charles Lamb