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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!

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
Thee
Rattle
Strength
Worshipped
Health
Blindly
Liberty
Hast
Money
Abused
May
Foul
Pockets
Stupidly
Thou
Fiend

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Gone before To that unknown and silent shore.
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And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls, Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.
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English physicians kill you, the French let you die.
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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?
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Not if I know myself at all.
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My only books Were woman's looks,- And folly 's all they 've taught me.
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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.
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There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet.
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I never knew an enemy to puns who was not an ill-natured man.
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May be the truth is, that one pipe is wholesome, two pipes toothsome, three pipes noisome, four pipes fulsome, five pipes quarrelsome and that's the some on't.
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No one ever regarded the First of January with indifference. It is that from which all date their time, and count upon what is left. It is the nativity of our common Adam.
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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
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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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Shall I ask the brave soldier who fights by my side In the cause of mankind, if our creeds agree?
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Boys are capital fellows in their own way, among their mates but they are unwholesome companions for grown people.
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The laws of Pluto's kingdom know small difference between king and cobbler, manager and call-boy and, if haply your dates of life were conterminant, you are quietly taking your passage, cheek by cheek (O ignoble levelling of Death) with the shade of some recently departed candle-snuffer.
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Books of quick interest, that hurry on for incidents are for the eye to glide over only. It will not do to read them out. I could never listen to even the better kind of modern novels without extreme irksomeness.
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Rags, which are the reproach of poverty, are the beggar's robes, and graceful insignia of his profession, his tenure, his full dress, the suit in which he is expected to show himself in public.
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I am, in plainer words, a bundle of prejudices - made up of likings and dislikings.
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Man is a gaming animal. He must always be trying to get the better in something or other.
Charles Lamb