Charles Lamb Quotes
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The measure of choosing well, is, whether a man likes and finds good in what he has chosen.
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Asparagus inspires gentle thoughts.
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Separate from the pleasure of your company, I don't much care if I never see a mountain in my life.
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For I hate, yet love thee, so,That, whichever thing I show,The plain truth will seem to beA constrained hyperbole,And the passion to proceedMore from a mistress than a weed.
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Pain is life - the sharper, the more evidence of life.
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What is reading, but silent conversation.
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Thou in such a cloud dost bind us,That our worst foes cannot find us,And ill fortune, that would thwart us,Shoots at rovers, shooting at us;While each man, through thy height'ning steam,Does like a smoking Etna seem.
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Clap an extinguisher upon your irony if you are unhappily blessed with a vein of it.
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A poor relation-is the most irrelevant thing in nature.
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Sunday itself-that unfortunate failure of a holyday as it too often proved, what with my sense of its fugitiveness, and over-care to get the greatest quantity of pleasure out of it …
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Who first invented work, and bound the freeAnd holiday-rejoicing spirit down . . . . . . . . .To that dry drudgery at the desk's dead wood? . . . . . . . . .Sabbath-less Satan!
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I could never hate anyone I knew.
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I love to lose myself in other men's minds.
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Cards are war, in disguise of a sport.
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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.
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The greatest pleasure I know is to do a good action by stealth and have it found out by accident.
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Shakespeare is one of the last books one should like to give up, perhaps the one just before the Dying Service in a large Prayer book.
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For God's sake (I never was more serious), don't make me ridiculous any more by terming me gentle-hearted in print.
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I always arrive late at the office, but I make up for it by leaving early.
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Things in books' clothing.
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Far transcend my weak invention.’Tis a simple Christian child,Missionary young and mild,From her store of script’ral knowledge (Bible-taught without a college) Which by reading she could gather, Teaches him to say Our Father To the common Parent, who Colour not respects nor hue. White and Black in him have part, Who looks not to the skin, but heart.
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Here cometh April again, and as far as I can see the world hath more fools in it than ever.
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Tis the privilege of friendship to talk nonsense, and have her nonsense respected.
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Credulity is the man's weakness, but the child's strength.