And thus ever by day and night, under the sun and under the stars, climbing the dusty hills and toiling along the weary plains, journeying by land and journeying by sea, coming and going so strangely, to meet and to act and react on one another, move all we restless travellers through the pilgrimage of life.
Interpretation
Life is a journey filled with challenges and interactions with others.
In this quote, Charles Dickens reflects on the journey of life as a continuous pilgrimage, where humans, as restless travelers, navigate through various experiences and interactions under both the sun and stars. The imagery of climbing hills and toiling along plains symbolizes the struggles and efforts we all face, while the idea of meeting and acting upon each other emphasizes the interconnectedness of our journeys.
In practice
In a speech about resilience, one might say, 'As Charles Dickens put it, we are all restless travelers through the pilgrimage of life.'
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.
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.
Life is too short to be little. Man is never so manly as when he feels deeply, acts boldly, and expresses himself with frankness and with fervour.
Regardless of your age, you will always have adventures, unexpected joys and unexpected sorrows.
A Poem from Edna St. Vincent Millay: Grown-up Was it for this I uttered prayers, And sobbed and cursed and kicked the stairs, That now, domestic as a plate, I should retire at half-past eight?
Life is rather like a tin of sardines - we're all of us looking for the key.
I surrendered my youth to the people I feared when I could have been out there loving someone. Don't make that mistake yourself. Life's too damn short.
There won't be any biographies of me because, for only one reason, lives spent between the house and the chicken yard do not make exciting copy.
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