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Charles Dickens
Quote #43
She's the ornament of her sex.
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What is the odds so long as the fire of soul is kindled at the taper of conwiviality, and the wing of friendship never moults a feather! Wh…
Fan the sinking flame of hilarity with the wing of friendship; and pass the rosy wine.
It is a pleasant thing to reflect upon, and furnishes a complete answer to those who contend for the gradual degeneration of the human spec…
Send forth the child and childish man together, and blush for the pride that libels our own old happy state, and gives its title to an ugly…
Although a skillful flatterer is a most delightful companion if him all to yourself, his taste becomes very doubtful when he takes to compl…
The very dogs were all asleep, and the flies, drunk with moist sugar in the grocer's shop, forgot their wings and briskness, and baked to d…
For nature gives to every time and season some beauties of its own; and from morning to night, as from the cradle to the grave, is but a su…
In mind, she was of a strong and vigorous turn, having from her earliest youth devoted herself with uncommon ardour to the study of the law…
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