A Quote by Charles Lamb

Summer, as my friend Coleridge waggishly writes, has set in with its usual severity. — © Charles Lamb
Summer, as my friend Coleridge waggishly writes, has set in with its usual severity.
Summer has set in with its usual severity.
If an author be supposed to involve his thoughts in voluntary obscurity, and to obstruct, by unnecessary difficulties, a mind eager in the pursuit of truth; if he writes not to make others learned, but to boast the learning which he possesses himself, and wishes to be admired rather than understood, he counteracts the first end of writing, and justly suffers the utmost severity of censure, or the more afflicting severity of neglect.
The genius of Coleridge is like a sunken treasure ship, and Coleridge a diver too timid and lazy to bring its riches to the surface.
I wanted to do a lot of things in wine, but I didn't know how to do it. So before I invested in anything, before I really put my dollars into it, I put my whole heart, soul, mind into it so that I really understand the severity of each outcome, the severity of success and the severity of failure.
Happy is he who looks only into his work to know if it will succeed, never into the times or the public opinion; and who writes from the love of imparting certain thoughts and not from the necessity of sale - who writes always to the unknown friend.
In our dreams (writes Coleridge) images represent the sensations we think they cause; we do not feel horror because we are threatened by a sphinx; we dream of a sphinx in order to explain the horror we feel.
One summer, my friend and I went to summer camp, and I acted in some plays there, and I fell in love with it.
I am aware that many object to the severity of my language; but is there not cause for severity?
All that happens is as usual and familiar as the rose in spring and the crop in summer.
I fell for her in summer, my lovely summer girl, From summer she is made, my lovely summer girl, I’d love to spend a winter with my lovely summer girl, But I’m never warm enough for my lovely summer girl, It’s summer when she smiles, I’m laughing like a child, It’s the summer of our lives; we’ll contain it for a while She holds the heat, the breeze of summer in the circle of her hand I’d be happy with this summer if it’s all we ever had.
Sweet, sweet burn of sun and summer wind, and you my friend, my new fun thing, my summer fling.
Moral severity in women is only a dress or paint which they use to set off their beauty.
Punishments of unreasonable severity, especially where indiscriminately afflicted, have less effect in preventing crimes, and amending the manners of a people, than such as are more merciful in general, yet properly intermixed with due distinctions of severity.
I was recently told by a guy friend that red lipstick during the summer is distracting, and I said, "You need to shut up because I love red lips in the summer." Guys are stupid, moral of the story.
I was on my way to law school when a friend of mine at an extras agency said, 'Do you want to come to this movie set and get paid $100 bucks a day to pretend you're at a party?' And I was like, 'Yeah, summer holiday, let's do it.' So I went, and on lunch, the writer asked me to audition for a role, and I got it.
A man always writes absolutely well whenever he writes in his own manner, but the wigmaker who tries to write like Gellert ... writes badly.
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