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Quote by Charles Dickens

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Bleak House

Charles Dickens' 'Bleak House' is a profound and intricate novel set in the 19th century. It delves into the legal system and its impact on individuals, using the Jarndyce and Jarndyce case as a central narrative device. The story intertwines the lives of numerous characters, each facing their own struggles and challenges within the context of the law and the broader societal issues of the era. more

Author

Charles Dickens
Charles Dickens

Charles Dickens, a British writer born on February 7, 1812, and died on June 9, 1870, is one of the greatest novelists of the 19th century. Known for his profound social criticism and vivid narrative style, Dickens' works extensively cover social reality, revealing various issues in the British society of the time. more

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“The past is an annoying critic whose loud tirade of accusatory declamations detracts me from experiencing happiness. Loitering within the craggy shadows of my lithograph identification apparatus is the splayed viscera from the blood-soaked entrails of an egotistical self’s riddled history. The unbidden past tugs at my sleeves similar to a persistent tramp demanding an attentive accounting. A disgraced personal self refuses to release its despotic hold upon my guilt-ridden psyche without exacting a sacrificial tithing. Strewn wreckage from my history of scandalous debacles cast a pall of shame over the present. The shambles of my disreputable past stifles my present desire to celebrate in the rudimentary grandeur of living robustly. With the past snarling its reproach, my mind is preoccupied with ugly thoughts, and every day reduced to a tiresome and worrisome filled existence that halts my progress towards achieving an envisaged life.”

“He had thought that he would feel elated if they managed to steal back the Horcrux, but somehow he did not; all he felt as he sat looking out at the darkness, of which his wand lit only a tiny part, was worry about what would happen next. It was as though he had been hurtling toward this point for weeks, months, maybe even years, but now he had come to an abrupt halt, run out of road.”

“A man could waste his life worrying, that was all too clear. Sometimes you simply had to choose and shrug, however it came out, knowing that you could not have done more with the bones you were given.”