Quotes
Quotes - Lamb
The red-letter days now become, to all intents and purposes, dead-letter days.
For with G. D., to be absent from the body is sometimes (not to speak profanely) to be present with the Lord.
A clear fire, a clean hearth, and the rigour of the game.
Sentimentally I am disposed to harmony; but organically I am incapable of a tune.
Not if I know myself at all.
It is good to love the unknown.
The pilasters reaching down were adorned with a glistering substance (I know not what) under glass (as it seemed), resembling--a homely fancy, but I judged it to be sugar-candy; yet to my raised imagination, divested of its homelier qualities, it appeared a glorified candy.
Presents, I often say, endear absents.
It argues an insensibility.
Books which are no books.
Your absence of mind we have borne, till your presence of body came to be called in question by it.
Gone before
To that unknown and silent shore.
I have had playmates, I have had companions,
In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days.
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
For thy sake, tobacco, I
Would do anything but die.
And half had staggered that stout Stagirite.
Who first invented work, and bound the free
And holiday-rejoicing spirit down
. . . . . . . . .
To that dry drudgery at the desk's dead wood?
. . . . . . . . .
Sabbathless Satan!
I like you and your book, ingenious Hone!
In whose capacious all-embracing leaves
The very marrow of tradition's shown;
And all that history, much that fiction weaves.
He might have proved a useful adjunct, if not an ornament to society.
Neat, not gaudy.
Martin, if dirt was trumps, what hands you would hold!
Returning to town in the stage-coach, which was filled with Mr. Gilman's guests, we stopped for a minute or two at Kentish Town. A woman asked the coachman, "Are you full inside?" Upon which Lamb put his head through the window and said, "I am quite full inside; that last piece of pudding at Mr. Gilman's did the business for me."
Presents, I often say, endear absents.
The human species, according to the best theory I can form of it, is composed of two distinct races: the men who borrow, and the men who lend.
My motto is: Contented with little, yet wishing for more.
'Presents,' I often say, 'endear absents.'
