Christmas may not bring a single thing; still, it gives me a song to sing. Charles Dickens More Quotes by Charles Dickens More Quotes From Charles Dickens Our affections, however laudable, in this transitory world, should never master us; we should guide them, guide them. Charles Dickens affectionguidesworld In the little world in which children have their existence, whosoever brings them up, there is nothing so finely perceived and so finely felt, as injustice. Charles Dickens parentingexpectationschildren The talker has found a hearer but not a listener; and though he may talk his very best for his own sake, you will find that his mental movements are erratic: they have no fixed centre and no definite object. His talk is like the water of a canal whose banks have given way, which rolls aimlessly hither and thither, without fulfilling any useful function, though it is the same water which was so helpful and serviceable, when it was confined within clearly marked limits by the restraining force of its earthy boundaries. Charles Dickens listeningmaywater This reminds me, Godmother, to ask you a serious question. You are as wise as wise can be (having been brought up by the fairies), and you can tell me this: Is it better to have had a good thing and lost it, or never to have had it? Charles Dickens godmotherwords-of-wisdomwise Vices are sometimes only virtues carried to excess! Charles Dickens excessvicesliterature He would make a lovely corpse. Charles Dickens wittyfunnydeath Poetry's unnat'ral; no man ever talked poetry 'cept a beadle on boxin' day. Charles Dickens men One thing about this face was very strange and startling. You could not look upon it in its most cheerful mood without feeling that it had some extraordinary capacity of expressing terror. It was not on the surface. It was in no one feature that it lingered. You could not take the eyes or mouth, or lines upon the cheek, and say, if this or that were otherwise, it would not be so. Yet there it always lurked-something for ever dimly seen, but ever there, and never absent for a moment. Charles Dickens eyecharacterinteresting I see a beautiful city and a brilliant people rising from this abyss. I see the lives for which I lay down my life, peaceful, useful, prosperous and happy. I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts, and in the hearts of their descendants, generations hence. It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known. Charles Dickens citiesheartbeautiful Christmas time! That man must be a misanthrope indeed, in whose breast something like a jovial feeling is not roused - in whose mind some pleasant associations are not awakened - by the recurrence of Christmas. Charles Dickens christmasfeelingsmen Champagne is simply one of the elegant extras of life. Charles Dickens champagnewinedrinking A merry Christmas to everybody! A happy New Year to all the world! Charles Dickens new-yearchristmasyears To see the butcher slap the steak before he laid it on the block, and give his knife a sharpening, was to forget breakfast instantly. It was agreeable too - it really was - to see him cut it off so smooth and juicy. There was nothing savage in the act, although the knife was large and keen; it was a piece of art, high art; there was delicacy of touch, clearness of tone, skilful handling of the subject, fine shading. It was the triumph of mind over matter; quite. Charles Dickens blockfoodart Darkness is cheap, and Scrooge liked it. Charles Dickens scroogedarknesswinter It was a good thing to have a couple of thousand people all rigid and frozen together, in the palm of one's hand. Charles Dickens couplehandspeople God bless us every one! said Tiny Tim, the last of all. Charles Dickens tinylastsgod The New Year, like an Infant Heir to the whole world, was waited for, with welcomes, presents, and rejoicings. Charles Dickens new-yearinspirationalyears I can never close my lips where I have opened my heart Charles Dickens lipsmy-heartheart Christmas was close at hand, in all his bluff and hearty honesty; it was the season of hospitality, merriment, and open-heartedness; the old year was preparing, like an ancient philosopher, to call his friends around him, and amidst the sound of feasting and revelry to pass gently and calmly away. Charles Dickens honestychristmashands Be natural my children. For the writer that is natural has fulfilled all the rules of art. Charles Dickens naturalchildrenart
