THE LIFE OF CHARLES DICKENS

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Сторінка 191 - O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, That did not better for my life provide Than public means which public manners breeds. Thence comes it that my name receives a brand ; 5 And almost thence my nature is subdued To what it works in, like the dyer's hand...
Сторінка 423 - Well,' replied the President, without lifting his head or changing his attitude, 'I am on a great broad rolling river — and I am in a boat — and I drift — and I drift! — but this is not business' — suddenly raising his face and looking round the table as Mr. Stanton entered, 'let us proceed to business, gentlemen.
Сторінка 353 - It does not seem to me to be enough to say of any description that it is the exact truth. The exact truth must be there ; but the merit or art in the narrator, is the manner of stating the truth.
Сторінка 67 - The essential value and truth of Dickens's writings have been unwisely lost sight of by many thoughtful persons, merely because he presents his truth with some colour of caricature. Unwisely, because Dickens's caricature, though often gross, is never mistaken. Allowing for his manner of telling them, the things he tells us are always true.
Сторінка 191 - tis true I have gone here and there And made myself a motley to the view, Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear, Made old offences of affections new.
Сторінка 551 - The Chimes; A Goblin Story of some Bells that Rang an Old Year Out, and a New Year In.
Сторінка 27 - He no more thought, God forgive him ! that the admired original would ever be charged with the imaginary vices of the fictitious creature than he has himself ever thought of charging the blood of Desdemona and Othello on the innocent Academy model who sat for lago's leg in the picture.
Сторінка 247 - I was taken home, and there was Debt at home as well as Death, and we had a sale there. My own little bed was so superciliously looked upon by a Power unknown to me, hazily called "The Trade," that a brass coalscuttle, a roasting-jack, and a birdcage, were obliged to be put into it to make a Lot of it, and then it went for a song. So I heard mentioned, and I wondered what song, and thought what a dismal song it must have been to sing!
Сторінка 540 - A brilliant morning shines on the old city. Its antiquities and ruins are surpassingly beautiful, with a lusty ivy gleaming in the sun, and the rich trees waving in the balmy air. Changes of glorious light from moving boughs, songs of birds, scents from gardens, woods, and fields — or, rather, from the one great garden of the whole cultivated island in its yielding time — penetrate into the Cathedral, subdue its earthy odour, and preach the Resurrection and the Life.
Сторінка 237 - There is the strangest thing in it that ever I have seen on the stage — the boy Pippo, by Miss Wilton. While it is astonishingly impudent (must be, or it couldn't be done at all), it is so stupendously like a boy, and unlike a woman, that it is perfectly free from offence.

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