It was a Sunday afternoon, wet and cheerless; and a duller spectacle this earth of ours has not to show than a rainy Sunday in London. — Thomas de Quincey Copy Share Image
Out of the ruined lodge and forgotten mansion, bowers that are trodden under foot, and pleasure-houses that are dust, the poet calls up a… — Thomas de Quincey Copy Share Image
It is most absurdly said, in popular language, of any man, that he is disguised in liquor; for, on the contrary, most men are… — Thomas de Quincey Copy Share Image
Everlasting farewells! and again, and yet again reverberated everlasting farewells! — Thomas de Quincey Copy Share Image
Paint me an eternal tea-pot, for I usually drink tea from eight o'clock at night to four o'clock in the morning. — Thomas De Quincey Copy Share Image
It is one of the misfortunes in life that one must read thousands of books only to discover that one need not have read… — Thomas de Quincey Copy Share Image
As is the inventor of murder, and the father of art, Cain must have been a man of first-rate genius. — Thomas de Quincey Copy Share Image
Surely everyone is aware of the divine pleasures which attend a wintry fireside; candles at four o'clock, warm hearthrugs, tea, a fair tea-maker, shutters… — Thomas de Quincey Copy Share Image
Flowers that are so pathetic in their beauty, frail as the clouds, and in their coloring as gorgeous as the heavens, had through thousands of years been the heritage of children - honored as the jewelry of God only by them - when suddenly the voice of Christianity, counter-signing the voice of infancy, raised them to a grandeur transcending the… — Thomas de Quincey Copy Share
Cows are amongst the gentlest of breathing creatures; none show more passionate tenderness to their young when deprived of them; and, in short, I… — Thomas de Quincey Copy Share Image
“If once a man indulges himself in murder, very soon he comes to think little of robbing; and from robbing he next comes to… — Thomas de Quincey Copy Share Image
