Charles Lamb Quotes
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Oh, the pleasure of eating my dinner alone!
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It is with some violation of the imagination that we conceive of an actor belonging to the relations of private life, so closely do we identify these persons in our mind with the characters which they assume upon the stage.
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The beggar wears all colors fearing none.
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Dehortations from the use of strong liquors have been the favourite topic of sober declaimers in all ages, and have been received with abundance of applause by water-drinking critics. But with the patient himself, the man that is to be cured, unfortunately their sound has seldom prevailed.
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The teller of a mirthful tale has latitude allowed him. We are content with less than absolute truth.
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I never knew an enemy to puns who was not an ill-natured man.
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Presents, I often say, endear absents.
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In the indications of female poverty there can be no disguise. No woman dresses below herself from caprice.
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Shut not thy purse-strings always against painted distress. Act a charity sometimes. When a poor creature (outwardly and visibly such) comes before thee, do not stay to inquire whether the "seven small children," in whose name he implores thy assistance, have a veritable existence. Rake not into the bowels of unwelcome truth, to save a halfpenny. It is good to believe him.
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The man must have a rare recipe for melancholy, who can be dull in Fleet Street.
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My theory is to enjoy life, but my practice is against it.
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I toiled after it, sir, as some men toil after virtue.
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I give thee all,-I can no more, Though poor the off'ring be; My heart and lute are all the store That I can bring to thee.
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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.
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My motto is: Contented with little, yet wishing for more.
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No one ever regarded the first of January with indifference.
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If there be a regal solitude, it is a sick-bed. How the patient lords it there!
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I am determined that my children shall be brought up in their father's religion, if they can find out what it is.
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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.
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I have sat through an Italian opera, til, for sheer pain, and inexplicable anguish, I have rushed out into the noisiest places of the crowded street, to solace myself with sounds which I was not obliged to follow and get rid of the distracting torment of endless, fruitless, barren attention!
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I allow no hot-beds in the gardens of Parnassus.
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Satire does not look pretty upon a tombstone.
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He has left off reading altogether, to the great improvement of his originality.
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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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All people have their blind side-their superstitions.
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Our appetites, of one or another kind, are excellent spurs to our reason, which might otherwise but feebly set about the great ends of preserving and continuing the species.
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This world is all a fleeting show, For man's illusion given The smiles of joy, the tears of woe, Deceitful shine, deceitful flow, Theres nothing true but Heaven.
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His voice was the most obnoxious squeak I ever was tormented with.
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When I am not walking, I am reading. I cannot sit and think.
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New Year's Day is every man's birthday.
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