Charles Dickens

…not an orphan in the wide world can be so deserted as the child who is an outcast from a living parent’s love.

The bearings of this observation lays in the application on it.

Cows are my passion.

"Wal'r, my boy," replied the Captain, "in the Proverbs of Solomon you will find the following words, 'May we never want a friend in need, nor a bottle to give him!' When found, make a note of."

"I want to know what it says," he answered, looking steadily in her face. "The sea Floy, what is it that it keeps on saying?"

He’s tough, ma’am,—tough is J. B.; tough and devilish sly.

You will not have forgotten that it was a maxim with Foxey — our revered father, gentlemen — "Always suspect everybody." That's the maxim to go through life with!

"Did you ever taste beer?" "I had a sip of it once," said the small servant. "Here's a state of things!" cried Mr Swiveller, raising his eyes to the ceiling. "She never tasted it — it can't be tasted in a sip!"

If there were no bad people, there would be no good lawyers.

That vague kind of penitence which holidays awaken next morning.

In love of home, the love of country has its rise.

Under an accumulation of staggerers, no man can be considered a free agent. No man knocks himself down; if his destiny knocks him down, his destiny must pick him up again.

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; not wasting her speculations upon its eagle flights, which are rare, but tracing it attentively …

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 death in dusty corners of the window.

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 and distorted image.

To procure a refreshing sneeze at anytime by merely stepping out on the staircase (Fortunate location of Dick Swivellers "Chambers" above a Tabacconists)<

Fan the sinking flame of hilarity with the wing of friendship; and pass the rosy wine.

She's the ornament of her sex.

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! What is the odds so long as the spirit is expanded by means of rosy wine, and the present moment is …

Minerva House … was "a finishing establishment for young ladies," where some twenty girls of the ages from thirteen to nineteen inclusive, acquired a smattering of everything and a knowledge of nothing.

Reflect upon your present blessings — of which every man has many — not on your past misfortunes, of which all men have some.

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.

It is strange with how little notice, good, bad, or indifferent, a man may live and die in London.

Grief never mended no broken bones, and as good people’s wery scarce, what I says is, make the most on ’em.