Posts about The Superannuated Man by Charles Lamb written by msatyaprakash . Charles Lamb in “The Superannuated Man” has given an account of his feeling before and after his retirement. Lamb served as a clerk for long thirty-six years. Lamb in “The Superannuated Man” has given an account of his feeling before and after his retirement. Lamb served as a clerk for long thirty-six years and then .
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What a place to be is an old library!
It seems as though all the chagles of all the writers, that have bequeathed their labours I do not want to handle, to profane the leaves, their winding-sheets. Take my word for this, reader, and say a fool told it you, if you please, that he who hath not a dram of folly lamg his mixture, hath pounds of much worse matter in his composition. A man can never have too much Time to himself, nor too little to do.
THE SUPERANNUATED MAN by CHARLES LAMBThe Feeling of Lamb Before and After His Retirement
Man, I verily believe, is out of his element as long as he is operative. I am altogether for the life contemplative. When thou wert, thou wert not antiquity — then thou wert nothing, but hadst a remoter antiquity, as thou calledst it, to look back to with blind veneration; thou thyself being to thyself flat, jejune, modern! What mystery lurks in this retroversion? The mighty future is as nothing, being everything! The human species, according to the best theory I can form of it, is composed of two distinct races, the men who borrow, and the men who lend.
Tis the privilege of friendship to talk nonsense, and to have her nonsense respected. Time partially reconciles us to anything. I gradually became content–doggedly contented, as wild animals in cages. The going away of friends does not make the remainder more precious. It takes so much from them as there was a common link.
It is with some violation of the imagination that we conceive mann an actor belonging to the relations of private life, so closely do we identify these persons in our mind with the characters which they assume upon the stage. Can we ring the bells backward? Can superanuated unlearn the arts that pretend to civilize, and then burn the world? There is a march of science; but who shall beat the drums for its retreat?
Elia and The Last Essays of Elia / Charles Lamb, by Charles Lamb
The man must have a rare recipe for melancholy, who can be dull in Fleet Street. Who first invented work and bound the free And holiday-rejoicing spirit down To the unremitting importunity Of business, in the green fields, and the supwrannuated To plough, loom, anvil, spade–and oh!
To this dry drudgery of the desk’s dead wood?
We are ashamed at the sight of a monkey–somehow as we are shy of poor relations. I grow ominously tired of official superannuatfd. Thirty years have I served the Philistines, and my neck is not subdued to the yoke.
You don’t know how wearisome it is to breathe the air of four pent walls without relief day after day, all the golden hours of the day between ten and four without ease or interposition O for a few years between the grave and the desk!
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