Feb 10, 1775 - Dec 27, 1834
English writer
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A clear fire, a clean hearth, and the rigour of the game.
Society is like a large piece of frozen water; and skating well <br />is the great art of social life.
He might have proved a useful adjunct, if not an ornament to <br />society.
To pile up honey upon sugar, and sugar upon honey, to an <br />interminable tedious sweetness.
If dirt was trumps, what hands you would hold!
The cheerful Sabbath bells, wherever heard,<br /> Strike pleasant on the sense, most like the voice<br /> Of one, who from the far-off hills proclaims<br /> Tidings of good to Zion.
Who first invented work, and bound the free<br /> And holyday-rejoicing spirit down . . .<br /> To that dry drudgery at the desk's dead wood? . . .<br /> Sabbathless Satan!
What a place to be in is an old library! It seems as though all <br />the souls of all the writers that have bequeathed their labours <br />to these Bodleians were reposing here as in some dormitory, or <br />middle state. I do not want to handle, to profane the leaves, <br />their winding-sheets. I could as soon dislodge a shade. I seem <br />to inhale learning, walking amid their foliage; and the odor of <br />their old moth-scented coverings is fragrant as the first bloom <br />of those sciential apples which gr
I'm not final because I'm right, I'm right because I'm final.
Half as sober as a judge.
The truant Fancy was a wanderer ever.
I love to lose myself in other men's minds.<br /> When I am not walking, I am reading;<br /> I cannot sit and think. Books think for me.<br /> - Charles Lamb (used pseudonym Elia),
Neat, not gaudy.
\'Presents,\' I often say, endear Absents.\'
Shut not thy purse-strings always against painted distress.
Let us live for the beauty of our own reality.
Lawyers, I suppose, were children once.
Credulity is the man's weakness, but the child's strength.
I am determined that my children shall be brought up in their father's religion, if they can find out what it is.
Tis the privilege of friendship to talk nonsense, and have her nonsense respected.
New Year's Day is every man's birthday.
The human species, according to the best theory I can form of it, is composed of two distinct races, the men who borrow and the men who lend.
The most common error made in matters of appearance is the belief that one should disdain the superficial and let the true beauty of one's soul shine through. If there are places on your body where this is a possibility, you are not attractive - you are leaking.
The vices of some men are magnificent.
The beggar is the only person in the universe not obliged to study appearance.
My motto is: Contented with little, yet wishing for more.
We gain nothing by being with such as ourselves. We encourage one another in mediocrity. I am always longing to be with men more excellent than myself.
Nothing puzzles me more than time and space; and yet nothing troubles me less, as I never think about them.
Cards are war, in disguise of a sport.
