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G.K. Chesterton

G.K. Chesterton


Gilbert Keith Chesterton was one of the most influential English writers of the 20th century. His prolific and diverse output included journalism, philosophy, poetry, biography, Christian apologetics, fantasy and detective fiction.

Chesterton has been called the "prince of paradox". Time magazine, in a review of a biography of Chesterton, observed of his writing style: "Whenever possible Chesterton made his points with popular sayings, proverbs, allegories—first carefully turning them inside out.
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All their cares, hopes, joys, affections, virtues, and associations, seemed to be melted down into dollars. Whatever the chance contributions that fell into the slow cauldron of their talk, they made the gruel thick and slab with dollars. Men were weighed by their dollars, measures gauged by their dollars; life was auctioneered, appraised, put up, and knocked down for its dollars.
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The Secretary gave her such a radiant look, that if he had thanked her a hundred times, he could not have said as much as the look said.
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We had strict injunctions, however, on no account to pass the falls of Reichenbach, which are about half-way up the hill, without making a small detour to see them.
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There are dark shadows on the Earth; but its lights are stronger in the contrast
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Thus in the quiet hours of the night, one house shuts in as many incoherent and incongruous fancies as a madman's head.
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The cunning devil has told her every unsavoury public scandal of his past life, but always in such a way as to make himself out to be an innocent martyr. She absolutely accepts his version and will listen to no other.
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No one who can read, ever looks at a book, even unopened on a shelf, like one who cannot. 'Were
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The Chairman of the Board, Gentle—men! In like manner, but in a still more stentorian voice, he ushered the chairman through the public office, where some humble clients were transacting business, into an awful chamber, labelled Board-room; the door of which sanctuary immediately closed, and screened the great capitalist from vulgar eyes.
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What do you know of the time when young men shut themselves up in those lonely rooms, and read and read, hour after hour, and night after night, till their reason wandered beneath their midnight studies; till morning’s light brought no freshness or health to them; and they sank beneath the unnatural devotion of their youthful energies to their dry old books ?
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From a drop of water," said the writer, "a logician could infer the possibility of an Atlantic or a Niagara without having seen or heard of one or the other. So all life is a great chain, the nature of which is known whenever we are shown a single link of it. Like all other arts, the Science of Deduction and Analysis is one which can only be acquired by long and patient study nor is life long enough to allow any mortal to attain the highest possible perfection in it.
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Nunca espero a nadie para la cena. -Excelente regla esta -dijo el señor Pickwick-, admirable.
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Like all other arts, the Science of Deduction and Analysis is one which can only be acquired by long and patient study nor is life long enough to allow any mortal to attain the highest possible perfection in it.
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top-boots—not to keep the reader any longer in suspense, in short, the eyes were the wandering eyes of Mr. Grummer, and the body was the body of the same gentleman.
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walking calendar of crime,
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te-am regăsit în fiecare rând pe care l-am citit, în fiecare priveliște pe care am admirat-o — pe râu, în pânzele corăbiilor, printre mlaștini, printre nori, în lumină, în întuneric, prin vânt, prin pădure, pe mare și pe stradă. Ești întruchiparea oricărui gând frumos pe care îl poate născoci mintea mea. Pietrele celor mai solide clădiri din Londra nu sunt mai adevărate și mai greu de dat la o parte cu mâinile decât prezența ta în sufletul meu și influența pe care o ai asupra mea, acum și întotdeauna.
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How could I, a poor dazed village lad, avoid that wonderful inconsistency into which the best and wisest of men fall every day?
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Men who have lived in crowded, pent-up streets, through lives of toil, and who have never wished for change; men, to whom custom has indeed been second nature, and who have come almost to love each brick and stone that formed the narrow boundaries of their daily walks; even they, with the hand of death upon them, have been known to yearn at last for one short glimpse of Nature's face;
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for I know they gain by it while I lose, don’t I?
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CHAPTER XXXIII WHEREIN THE HAPPINESS OF OLIVER AND HIS FRIENDS, EXPERIENCES A SUDDEN CHECK
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My sister, Mrs. Joe, with black hair and eyes, had such a prevailing redness of skin that I sometimes used to wonder whether it was possible she washed herself with a nutmeg-grater instead of soap.
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