Charles Dickens ( 10 of 80 )
When I got up to the Peacock--where I found everybody drinking
hot punch in self-preservation.
When I got up to the Peacock--where I found everybody drinking
hot punch in self-preservation.
Secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster.
Secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster.
The most important human endeavor is the striving for morality in
our actions. Our inner balance and even our read more
The most important human endeavor is the striving for morality in
our actions. Our inner balance and even our very existence
depend on it. Only morality in our actions can give beauty and
dignity to life.
"There are strings," said Mr. Tappertit, ". . . in the human heart
that had better not be wibrated."
"There are strings," said Mr. Tappertit, ". . . in the human heart
that had better not be wibrated."
Mrs. Crupp had indignantly assured him that there wasn't room to
swing a cat there; but as Mr. Dick read more
Mrs. Crupp had indignantly assured him that there wasn't room to
swing a cat there; but as Mr. Dick justly observed to me, sitting
down on the foot of the bed, nursing his leg, "You know,
Trotwood, I don't want to swing a cat. I never do swing a cat.
Therefore what does that signify to me?"
Fan the sinking flame of hilarity with the wing of friendship;
and pass the rosy wine.
Fan the sinking flame of hilarity with the wing of friendship;
and pass the rosy wine.
"Never see . . . a dead post-boy, did you?" inquired
Sam. . . . "No," rejoined Bob, "I read more
"Never see . . . a dead post-boy, did you?" inquired
Sam. . . . "No," rejoined Bob, "I never did." "No!" rejoined Sam
triumphantly. "Nor never vill; and there's another thing that no
man never see, and that's a dead donkey."
This is a world of action, and not for moping and droning in.
This is a world of action, and not for moping and droning in.
Oh, a dainty plant is the ivy green,
That creepeth o'er ruins old!
Of right choice food read more
Oh, a dainty plant is the ivy green,
That creepeth o'er ruins old!
Of right choice food are his meals I ween,
In his cell so lone and cold.
. . . .
Creeping where no life is seen,
A rare old plant is the ivy green.
I have known him [Micawber] come home to supper with a flood of
tears, and a declaration that nothing read more
I have known him [Micawber] come home to supper with a flood of
tears, and a declaration that nothing was now left but a jail;
and go to bed making a calculation of the expense of putting
bow-windows to the house, "in case anything turned up," which was
his favorite expression.
