Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Happy birthday to Mr. Dickens!


Bet you didn't know today was Charles Dickens birthday. He was born in 1812.

Anyway, I've always appreciated his writing style and his brilliant wordsmithing. Very gifted writer. And just for fun, here are some of his quotes - from his well known works and a couple from his not-so-well known works. There's nothing "special" about any of these. I just enjoyed his writing style. Enjoy!


"Sadly, sadly, the sun rose; it rose upon no sadder sight than the man of good abilities and good emotions, incapable of their directed exercise, incapable of his own help and his own happiness, sensible of the blight on him, and resigning him-self to let it eat him away." ~ Tale of Two Cities

"You anticipate what I would say, though you cannot know how earnestly I say it, how earnestly I feel it, without knowing my secret heart, and the hopes and fears and anxieties with which it has long been laden. ...I love your daughter fondly, dearly, disinterestedly, devotedly. If ever there were love in the world, I love her. . . ." ~Tale of Two Cities

"There are some upon this earth of yours," returned the Spirit, "who lay claim to know us, and who do their deeds of passion, pride, ill-will, hatred, envy, bigotry, and selfishness in our name, who are as strange to us and all out kith and kin, as if they had never lived. Remember that, and charge their doings on themselves, not us." ~Christmas Carol

"At last, however, he began to think -- as you or I would have thought at first; for it is always the person not in the predicament who knows what ought to have been done in it, and would unquestionably have done it too . . ." ~Christmas Carol

"That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. But, it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck out of it, and think how different its course would have been. Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day." ~Great Expectations

"In a word, I was too cowardly to do what I knew to be right, as I had been too cowardly to avoid doing what I knew to be wrong." ~Great Expectations

"A silent look of affection and regard when all other eyes are turned coldly away--the consciousness that we possess the sympathy and affection of one being when all others have deserted us--is a hold, a stay, a comfort, in the deepest affliction, which no wealth could purchase, or power bestow." ~Pickwick Papers

"Long may it remain in this mixed world a point not easy of decision, which is the more beautiful evidence of the Almighty's goodness--the delicate fingers that are formed for sensitiveness and sympathy of touch, and made to minister to pain and grief, or the rough hard ... hand, that the heart teaches, guides, and softens in a moment!" ~Dombey and Son

"All the knives and forks were working away at a rate that was quite alarming; very few words were spoken; and everybody seemed to eat his utmost in self-defence, as if a famine were expected to set in before breakfast time to-morrow morning, and it had become high time to assert the first law of nature." ~Martin Chuzzlewit

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

he's a little chewy in his long running sentences for me. I feel like I will die of old age before he finally puts the period at the end of it. ;) Your brother Samuel is reading some of his works now. He read one at school and liked it so much he had me buy him a couple.

kate kiya said...

Charles Dickes is by far my favorite author! Thanks for the tribute. My favorite Dicekns quote is, ‘It's very much to be wished that some mothers would leave their daughters alone after marriage, and not be so violently affectionate. They seem to think the only return that can be made them for bringing an unfortunate young woman into the world. (God bless my soul, as if she asked to be brought, or wanted to come!) is full liberty to worry her out of it again.’
–Betsy Trotwood, David Copperfield, by Charles Dickens