Mr. Dickens And His Carol Quotes
"There are times in a man’s life when no knock on any door will divert him from the thing at hand, in particular when that thing is a goose-feather pen flying across the page, spitting ink."
"I believe I have once again stumbled upon perfection."
"The city forgave. A map of it was etched on his brain, its tangle of streets and squares, alleys and mews a true atlas of his own interior."
"Children were an act of optimism—sheer belief that the future will outshine the present."
"Traditions are not new, Catherine. They are old. And we cannot afford the ones we have."
"If it was a matter of money, it could be one thing only."
"If they could like it a little more while I'm still alive, that would do fine."
"Perhaps I do derive joy from things you regard as frivolous, Charles. But beneath it all, I have not forgotten what matters."
"Will you return by Christmas? I cannot say. But rest assured, we shall have Christmas wherever we are. With or without you."
"His bowsprit pointed straight to the unseen shore of a new story."
"The biggest terror of all was not being able to write, having no inspiration, no source, no reservoir of words and feelings."
"Everything was strange, and everyone a stranger."
"There was a knowing beyond thinking, beneath words."
"When one’s whereabouts are hard come by, a city is an impression of itself."
"No sooner did his eyes fall upon the subject of his old passion—her lizard tongue darting out in search of each bite, a dollop of clotted cream clinging to the folds of her chin—than cherished memories of Christmas past were lost to him forever."
"Good grief, Charley. Don’t you believe Christmas begins in the heart?"
"But no one in all of India… more done in than I."
"And applause, yes! Because we have given every man, woman, and child an hour or two to forget the real world, and let them rejoin it with their sense of wonder restored."
"Fancy him nickin’ Oliver Twist off the one who drawed it."
"Says all the good parts was his idea," said the seller, "stolen right out from under him."
"But Fang is Laing! Every writer works from some point of his own experience."
"Christmas need not always end in eggnog and sugarplums!"
"I, Charles Dickens, declare publicly that as of this day and for all time to come I am no longer responsible for the debts incurred by my relatives, or relatives of my relatives, or friends of my relatives, or anyone but me. Signed, Charles John Huffam Dickens."
"And Scrooge’s heart, though frozen… began to melt."
"Never mind necessity, melancholy is the mother of invention."
"Here, in the great palace of the suspension of disbelief, was a shattering truth right in front of him."
"His skin was the color of his coat, all pale, naked shame."
"Dickens’ eyes flashed sorrow, despair, disdain, but he had nothing to say."
"Warren’s Blacking Warehouse stood, just barely, at 30 Hungerford Stairs."
"His own eyes were black sockets, brow heavy and weary of the world."
"The words stuck in his throat, trapping long-buried demons."
"For the second saddest thing in the world after a child who’s been abandoned is the parent who abandons him."
"Every book you’ve ever written is a book about Christmas."
"And your books made me think of my own family, and our Christmases past."
"Now he knew who and what they all were and why, almost beyond thought, in the fullness of his reborn heart."
"He had written fast before, but never like this."
"But every book you’ve ever written is a book about Christmas."
"Some days are blessed with a feeling of newness from the start."
"He wrote churches that rang with lusty peals."
"You told me my past would catch me soon enough."