Quotes from Charles Dickens

Along the Paris streets, the death-carts rumble, hollow and harsh. Six tumbrils carry the day's wine to La Guillotine.

My dear young lady, crime, like death, is not confined to the old and withered alone. The youngest and fairest are too often its chosen victims.

Vices are sometimes only virtues carried to excess!

Time was with most of us, when Christmas Day, encircling all our limited world like a magic ring, left nothing out for us to miss or seek; bound together all our home enjoyments, affections, and hopes; grouped everything and everyone round the Christ

Happy, happy Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions of our childhood days, recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth, and transport the traveler back to his own fireside and quiet home!

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

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.

It is a far far better thing that I do than anything I have ever done it is a far far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.

I feel an earnest and humble desire, and shall do till I die, to increase the stock of harmless cheerfulness.

Liberty, equality, fraternity, or death; - the last, much the easiest to bestow, O Guillotine!

My faith in the people governing is, on the whole, infinitesimal; my faith in the people governed is, on the whole, illimitable.

Family not only need to consist of merely those whom we share blood, but also for those whom we'd give blood.

Whatever I have tried to do in life, I have tried with all my heart to do it well; whatever I have devoted myself to, I have devoted myself completely; in great aims and in small I have always thoroughly been in earnest.

Accidentally consumed five biscuits when I wasn't paying attention. Those biscuits are wily fellows - they leap in like sugary ninjas

He describes it as a large apartment, with a red brick floor and a capacious chimney; the ceiling garnished with hams, sides of bacon, and ropes of onions.

We have had for breakfast, toasts, cakes, a yorkshire pie, a piece of beef about the size and much the shape of my portmanteau, tea, coffee, ham and eggs...

May I tell you why it seems to me a good thing for us to remember wrong that has been done us? That we may forgive it.

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

Oh, miss Haversham said I, there have been sore mistakes and my life has been a blind and thankless one, and I want forgiveness and direction far too much to be bitter with you.

I only ask to be free. The butterflies are free. Mankind will surely not deny to Harold Skimpole what it concedes to the butterflies.

Friendship? Yes Please.

Many merry Christmases, many happy New Years. Unbroken friendships, great accumulations of cheerful recollections and affections on earth, and heaven for us all.

What are the odds so long as the fire of the soul is kindled at the taper of conviviality, and the wing of friendship never molts a feather?

"Do not repine, my friends," said Mr. Pecksniff, tenderly. "Do not weep for me. It is chronic."