Bokelskere.no

'Pardon! There was the supper! It should be eaten on the instant. Monsieur (who spoke French like an Angel - or a Frenchman - it was all the same) had spoken with great emphasis of his punctuality.

Mr Dombey in the meantime stood bolt upright in the carriage like a highly respectable ghost, [...].

Sometimes she tried to think if there were any kind of knowledge that would bespeak his interests more readily than another. Always: at her books, her music, and her work: in her morning walks, and in her nightly prayers: she had her engrossing aim in view. Strange study for a child, to learn the road to a hard parent's heart!

Mr Dombey and the Major found Mrs Skewton arranged, as Cleopatra, among the cushions of a sofa: very airlily dressed: and certainly not resembling Shakespeare's Cleopatra, whom age could not wither.

[...], and caring as little for what went on about him, terrestrially, as Archimedes at the taking of Syracuse.

Diogenes the man did not speak plainer to Alexander the Great than Diogenes the dog spoke to Florence.

Oh thank GOD, all who see it, for that older fashion yet, of Immortality! And look upon us, angels of young children, with regards not quite estranged, when the swift river bears us to the ocean!

‘Dear me, dear me! To think,’ said Miss Tox, bursting out afresh that night, as if her heart were broken, ‘that Dombey and Son should be a Daughter after all!’

‘Dombey, Dombey,’ said Miss Blimber, ‘I begin to be afraid you are a sad boy. When you don’t know the meaning of an expression, why don’t you seek for information?’

‘Mrs Pipchin told me I wasn’t to ask questions,’ returned Paul.

‘I must beg you not to mention Mrs Pipchin to me, on any account, Dombey,’ returned Miss Blimber. ‘I couldn’t think of allowing it. The course of study here, is very far removed from anything of that sort. A repetition of such allusions would make it necessary for me to request to hear, without a mistake, before breakfast-time to-morrow morning, from Verbum personale down to simillimia cygno.’

When the Midsummer vacation approached, no indecent manifestations of joy were exhibited by the leaden-eyed young gentlemen assembled at Doctor Blimber’s. Any such violent expression as ‘breaking up,’ would have been quite inapplicable to that polite establishment. The young gentlemen oozed away, semi-annually, to their own homes; but they never broke up. They would have scorned the action.

Unless young Toots had some idea on the subject, to the expression of which he was wholly unequal. Ideas, like ghosts (according to the common notion of ghosts), must be spoken to a little before they will explain themselves; and Toots had long left off asking any questions of his own mind.