Appearance (Person)

He was in a perspiration, and snorted and sniffed and puffed and blew, like a little labouring steam-engine.

Charles Dickens Little Dorrit Quotations (Book 1, Chapter 13). He was in a perspiration, and snorted and sniffed and puffed and blew, like a little labouring steam-engine.

2019-11-07T20:15:06+00:00Categories: Little Dorrit|Tags: |

A complexion that was very dingy by nature, or very dirty by art, or a compound of nature and art.

Charles Dickens Little Dorrit Quotations (Book 1, Chapter 13). A complexion that was very dingy by nature, or very dirty by art, or a compound of nature and art.

2019-11-04T18:22:13+00:00Categories: Little Dorrit|Tags: |

A pair of such very stiff trousers that they would have stood quite as well alone, without any legs in them.

Charles Dickens David Copperfield Quotations (Chapter 3). A pair of such very stiff trousers that they would have stood quite as well alone, without any legs in them.

This head was decorated with shaggy hair, like oakum, which had no governing inclination towards the north, east, west, or south, but inclined to all four quarters of the compass, and to every point upon it.

Charles Dickens Dombey and Son Quotations (Chapter 23). This head was decorated with shaggy hair, like oakum, which had no governing inclination towards the north, east, west, or south, but inclined to all four quarters of the compass, and to every point upon it.

A very ugly old woman, with red rims round her eyes, and a mouth that mumbled and chattered of itself when she was not speaking.

Charles Dickens Dombey and Son Quotations (Chapter 6). A very ugly old woman, with red rims round her eyes, and a mouth that mumbled and chattered of itself when she was not speaking.

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.

Charles Dickens Little Dorrit Quotations (Book 1, Chapter 10). 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.

There was a light with nothing to rest upon, a fire with nothing to burn, a starved imagination keeping life in itself somehow.

There was a light with nothing to rest upon, a fire with nothing to burn, a starved imagination keeping life in itself somehow.