“I loved you madly; in the distasteful work of the day, in the wakeful misery of the night, girded by sordid realities, or wandering through Paradises and Hells of visions into which I rushed, carrying your image in my arms, I loved you madly.” ~ The Mystery of Edwin Drood
The flowers that sleep by
The flowers that sleep by night, opened their gentle eyes and turned them to the day. The light, creation’s mind, was everywhere, and all things owned its power. ~ The Old Curiosity Shop
“It’s in vain, Trot, to
“It’s in vain, Trot, to recall the past, unless it works some influence upon the present.” ~ David Copperfield
In that giddy whirl of
In that giddy whirl of noise and confusion, the men were delirious. Who thought of money, ruin, or the morrow, in the savage intoxication of the moment? ~ Nicholas Nickleby
“Is there no difference,” asked
“Is there no difference,” asked Helena, with a little faltering in her manner; “between submission to a generous spirit, and submission to a base or trivial one?” ~ The Mystery of Edwin Drood
It is an old prerogative
It is an old prerogative of kings to govern everything but their passions. ~ The Pickwick Papers
The memories which peaceful country
The memories which peaceful country scenes call up, are not of this world, nor of its thoughts and hopes. Their gentle influence may teach us how to weave fresh garlands for the graves of those we loved: may purify our thoughts, and bear down before it old enmity and hatred; but beneath all this, there lingers, in the least reflective mind, a vague and half-formed consciousness of having held such feelings long before, in some remote and distant time, which calls up solemn thoughts of distant times to come, and bends down pride and worldliness beneath it. ~ Oliver Twist
Arthur Gride, whose bleared
Arthur Gride, whose bleared eyes gloated only over the outward beauties, and were blind to the spirit which reigned within, evinced — a fantastic kind of warmth certainly, but not exactly that kind of warmth of feeling which the contemplation of virtue usually inspires. ~ Nicholas Nickleby
A tender young cork, however,
A tender young cork, however, would have had no more chance against a pair of corkscrews, or a tender young tooth against a pair of dentists, or a little shuttlecock against two battledores, than I had against Uriah and Mrs. Heep. They did just what they liked with me; and wormed things out of me that I had no desire to tell, with a certainty I blush to think of. The more especially, as in my juvenile frankness, I took some credit to myself for being so confidential and felt that I was quite the patron of my two respectful entertainers. ~ David Copperfield
Still his philanthropy
Still his philanthropy was of that gunpowderous sort that the difference between it and animosity was hard to determine. ~ The Mystery of Edwin Drood