I recollected one story there was in the village, how that on a certain night in the year (it might be that very night for anything I knew), all the dead people came out of the ground and sat at the heads of their own graves till morning.
Not knowing how he lost himself, or how he recovered himself, he may never feel certain of not losing himself again.
Interpretation
What this quote means
This quote reflects on the uncertainty of self-identity and the fear of losing oneself again after a transformative experience.
In this quote, Charles Dickens explores the complex nature of self-awareness and identity. The speaker suggests that without understanding the process of losing and regaining oneself, a person may live in a perpetual state of anxiety about their identity. This highlights the importance of self-reflection and the challenges of personal growth, emphasizing that the journey of self-discovery is fraught with uncertainty and vulnerability.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
In a motivational speech on personal growth, one might use this quote to illustrate the need for self-reflection.
More from Charles Dickens
All quotes →A silent look of affection and regard when all other eyes are turned coldly away-the consciousness that we possess the sympathy and affection of one being when all others have deserted us-is a hold, a stay, a comfort, in the deepest affliction, which no wealth could purchase, or power bestow.
Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts. I was better after I had cried, than before--more sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gentle.
There are not a few among the disciples of charity who require, in their vocation, scarcely less excitement than the votaries of pleasure in theirs.
You might, from your appearance, be the wife of Lucifer,” said Miss Pross, in her breathing. “Nevertheless, you shall not get the better of me. I am an Englishwoman.
Christmas is a poor excuse every 25th of December to pick a man's pockets.
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You have to be always drunk. That's all there is to it-it's the only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually drunk. But on what? Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be drunk.
Things just happen in the right way, at the right time. At least when you let them, when you work with circumstances instead of saying, 'This isn't supposed to be happening this way,' and trying harder to make it happen some other way.