“If he’s a change, give me a constancy.” ~ Dombey and Son
Ideas, like ghosts (according to
Ideas, like ghosts (according to the common notion of ghosts), must be spoken to a little before they will explain themselves. ~ Dombey and Son
Gentle Florence tossed on an
Gentle Florence tossed on an uneasy sea of doubt and hope; and Mr Carker, like a scaly monster of the deep, swam down below, and kept his shining eye upon her. ~ Dombey and Son
And there, with an aching
And there, with an aching void in his young heart, and all outside so cold, and bare, and strange, Paul sat as if he had taken life unfurnished, and the upholsterer were never coming. ~ Dombey and Son
In this round world of
In this round world of many circles within circles, do we make a weary journey from the high grade to the low, to find at last that they lie close together, that the two extremes touch, and that our journey’s end is but our starting-place? ~ Dombey and Son
Time, consoler of affliction and
Time, consoler of affliction and softener of anger. ~ Dombey and Son
“Those darling byegone times, Mr
“Those darling byegone times, Mr Carker,” said Cleopatra, “with their delicious fortresses, and their dear old dungeons, and their delightful places of torture, and their romantic vengeances, and their picturesque assaults and sieges, and everything that makes life truly charming! How dreadfully we have degenerated!” ~ Dombey and Son
“I have heard it said
“I have heard it said that as we keep our birthdays when we are alive, so the ghosts of dead people, who are not easy in their graves, keep the day they died upon.” ~ Barnaby Rudge
Mystery is not young, not
Mystery is not young, not pretty, though still of an average candle-light passability; but she does such miracles in her own behalf, that, one of these days, when she dies, they’ll be amazed to find an old woman in her bed, distantly like her. ~ A Flight
The last trumpet ever to
The last trumpet ever to be sounded shall blow even algebra to wreck. ~ Hard times
