
Charles Dickens
The nineteenth century saw the novel emerge as the dominant literary form in England, a period when serialized fiction reached readers across every level of society. Charles Dickens was born on February 7, 1812, in Landport, Portsmouth, and worked as both a writer and a journalist across several decades of that era.
Those two vocations ran alongside each other throughout his career. His fiction appeared in serialized form, and the range of what he produced was considerable. The Pickwick Papers was among his earliest works, followed by Oliver Twist and then David Copperfield. Hard Times: For These Times, Bleak House, and Little Dorrit extended the body of work further, as did A Christmas Carol, A Tale of Two Cities, and Great Expectations. Taken together, these titles span a wide stretch of his working life and show how consistently he moved between different kinds of stories and settings.
What Dickens brought to the literary culture of his time was fiction that combined his work as a journalist with his output as a novelist, keeping him a visible presence in the public life of the period. The serialized format meant his characters were a recurring presence in readers' lives over months rather than arriving all at once. His journalism ran alongside that fiction rather than separately from it, and the two strands of his career overlapped for much of his life.
Dickens died on June 9, 1870, at Gads Hill Place in Higham. By that point he had produced a substantial list of novels, including works as varied as A Christmas Carol, Bleak House, and Great Expectations, alongside his journalism — a body of output that stretched from The Pickwick Papers through to the final years of his life.
Quotes by Charles Dickens
Charles Dickens's insights on:

The dew seemed to sparkle more brightly on the green leaves the air to rustle among them with sweeter music and the sky itself to look more blue and bright. Such is the influence which the condition of our own thoughts, exercise, even over the appearance of external objects.

I have known a vast quantity of nonsense talked about bad men not looking you in the face. Don't trust that conventional idea. Dishonesty will stare honesty out of countenance, any day in the week if there is anything to be got by it.

A wedding is a licensed subject to joke upon, but there really is no great joke in the matter after all; — we speak merely of the ceremony and beg it to be distinctly understood that we indulge in no hidden sarcasm upon a married life.

I could never have done what I have done without the habits of punctuality, order, and diligence, without the determination to concentrate myself on one subject at a time.

Come, let's be a comfortable couple and take care of each other! How glad we shall be, that we have somebody we are fond of always, to talk go and sit with. Let's be a comfortable couple. Now, do, my dear!

I wonder why it is that when I shut my eyes in a tunnel I begin to feel as if I were going at an Express pace the other way. I am clearly going back to London, now.

Time was with most of us, when Christmas Day, encircling all our limited world like a magic ring, left nothing out for us to miss or seek; bound together all our home enjoyments, affections, and hopes; grouped everything and everyone round the Christ.


