A blessed companion is a book,—a book that fitly chosen is a life-long friend.
Douglas William Jerrold
All the Secrets of the Universe and Some Really Important Stuff Too!
A blessed companion is a book,—a book that fitly chosen is a life-long friend.
Douglas William Jerrold
The ugliest of trades have their moments of pleasure. Now, if I were a grave-digger, or even a hangman, there are some people I could work for with a great deal of enjoyment.
Douglas William Jerrold
Some people are so fond of ill-luck that they run half-way to meet it.
Douglas William Jerrold
The sharp employ the sharp; verily, a man may be known by his attorney.
Douglas William Jerrold
No, there is nothing at all funny in poverty—to the poor. It is hell upon earth to a sensitive man; and many a brave gentleman who would have faced the labors of Hercules has had his heart broken by its petty miseries.
Jerome K. Jerome
It is in our faults and failings, not in our virtues, that we touch each other, and find sympathy. It is in our follies that we are one.
Jerome K. Jerome
Swearing relieves the feelings—that is what swearing does. I explained this to my aunt on one occasion, but it didn’t answer with her. She said I had no business to have such feelings.
Jerome K. Jerome
Foolish people — when I say “foolish people” in this contemptuous way I mean people who entertain different opinions to mine. If there is one person I do despise more than another, it is the man who does not think exactly the same on all topics as I do.
Jerome K. Jerome
There are various methods by which you may achieve ignominy and shame. By murdering a large and respected family in cold blood and afterward depositing their bodies in the water companies’ reservoir, you will gain much unpopularity in the neighborhood of your crime, and even robbing a church will get you cordially disliked, especially by the vicar. But if you desire to drain to the dregs the fullest cup of scorn and hatred that a fellow human creature can pour out for you, let a young mother hear you call dear baby “it.”
Jerome K. Jerome
That is just the way with Memory; nothing that she brings to us is complete. She is a willful child; all her toys are broken. I remember tumbling into a huge dust-hole when a very small boy, but I have not the faintest recollection of ever getting out again; and if memory were all we had to trust to, I should be compelled to believe I was there still.
Jerome K. Jerome