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Arthur Clennam asked Barnacle better Blandois Bleeding Heart Yard brother Casby child Chivery Circumlocution Office clarionet Clen Collegians cried daughter dear dinner door Doyce Esquire eyes F's Aunt face father feel Flintwinch Flora gentleman girl glad gone Grosvenor Square hand Harley Street head heard honor hope Jeremiah knew lady light Little Dorrit looked Lord Decimus ma'am madam Maggy manner marriage Marseilles Marshalsea Meagles mean Merdle Merdle's mind Miss Dorrit Miss Fanny Miss Wade Monsieur mother never night Pancks Papa passed Plornish poor Pray prison replied returned Rigaud round Rugg seemed sister smile Sparkler speak stood street suppose sure Tattycoram tell Thank thing thought Tickit tion took turned turnkey Twickenham visitor voice walked window wish woman wonder words Young John
Page vii - Whosoever goes into Marshalsea Place, turning out of Angel Court, leading to Bermondsey, will find his feet on the very paving-stones of the extinct Marshalsea jail ; will see its narrow yard to the right and to the left, very little altered if at all, except that the walls were lowered when the place got free ; will look upon the rooms in which the debtors lived; will stand among the crowding ghosts of many miserable years.
Page 48 - Everything was bolted and barred that could by possibility furnish relief to an over-worked people. No pictures, no unfamiliar animals, no rare plants or flowers, no natural or artificial wonders of the ancient world- — all taboo with that enlightened strictness, that the ugly South Sea gods in the British Museum might have supposed themselves at home again. , Nothing to see but streets, streets, streets.
Page 110 - Shall we speak of the inspiration of a poet or a priest, and not of the heart impelled by love and self-devotion to the lowliest work in the lowliest way of life!
Page 160 - Boards sat upon them, secretaries minuted upon them, commissioners gabbled about them, clerks registered, entered, checked, and ticked them off, and they melted away. In short, all the business of the country went through the Circumlocution Office, except the business that never came out of it; and its name was Legion.
Page 49 - Fifty thousand lairs surrounded him where people lived so unwholesomely, that fair water put into their crowded rooms on Saturday night would be corrupt on Sunday morning; albeit my lord, their county member, was amazed that they failed to sleep in company with their butcher's meat.
Page 167 - Mr. Barnacle dated from a better time, when the country was not so parsimonious, and the circumlocution office was not so badgered. He wound and wound folds of white cravat round his neck, as he wound and wound folds of tape and paper round the neck of the country.
Page 242 - Be guided, only by the healer of the sick, the raiser of the dead, the friend of all who were afflicted and forlorn, the patient Master who shed tears of compassion for our infirmities. We cannot but be right if we put all the rest away, and do everything in remembrance of Him.
Page 48 - IT was a Sunday evening in London, gloomy, close and stale. Maddening church bells of all degrees of dissonance, sharp and flat, cracked and clear, fast and slow, made the brick-and-mortar echoes hideous. Melancholy streets in a penitential garb of soot, steeped the souls of the people who were condemned to look at them out of windows, in dire despondency.