Thus, it comes to pass, that a certain room in a certain old hall, where a certain bad lord, baronet, knight, or gentleman, shot himself, has certain planks in the floor from which the blood will not be taken out. You may scrape and scrape, as the present owner has done, or plane and plane, as his father did, or scrub and scrub, as his grandfather did, or burn and burn with strong acids, as his great-grandfather did, but, there the blood will still be - no redder and no paler - no more and no less - always just the same.
Charles Dickens... The sun does not shine upon this fair earth to meet frowning eyes, depend upon it.
Charles DickensI wear the chain I forged in life....I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it.
Charles DickensA brisk, bright, blue-eyed fellow, a very neat figure and rather under the middle size, never out of the way and never in it.
Charles Dickens