Little Dorrit (Annotated)

by Charles Dickens

All that she saw was new and wonderful, but it was not real;

all she saw appeared unreal;

no space in the life of man could overcome that quarter of a century behind the prison bars.

I protest against pride. I protest against ingratitude. I protest against any one of us here who have known what we have known, and have seen what we have seen, setting up any pretension that puts Amy at a moment's disadvantage, or to the cost of a moment's pain.

it was with people as with ships, that, in too shallow and rocky waters, their anchors had no hold, and they drifted anywhere.

'somebody has poisoned that noble dog. He is as dead as the Doges!'

Blandois' action?

this same society in which they lived, greatly resembled a superior sort of Marshalsea.

grim home of his youth.

her cheek was more strained than usual, and that it was colder.

he has no belief in anybody else, because he has no belief in himself.

He thought of the darkly threatening place that went by the name of Home in his remembrance, and of the gathering shadows which made it yet more darkly threatening than of old.

Sparkler was the sweetest-tempered, simplest-hearted, altogether most lovable jackass that ever grazed on the public common;

He took pains, on all social occasions, to draw Mr Sparkler out, and make him conspicuous before the company;

'Thank you, dearest Amy,' returned Fanny, kissing her. 'You are my anchor.'

Amy is the anchor for the whole family.

newcomers into fashionable life.'

he is, in some trifling respects, a little different from other gentlemen of his fortune:

this fair ship began to steer steadily on a shaped course, and to swim with a weight and balance that developed her sailing qualities.

after rolling for a few minutes smoothly over a fair pavement, had begun to jolt through a Slough of Despond, and through a long, long avenue of wrack and ruin.

The ruins of the vast old Amphitheatre, of the old Temples, of the old commemorative Arches, of the old trodden highways, of the old tombs, besides being what they were, to her were ruins of the old Marshalsea—ruins of her own old life—ruins of the faces and forms that of old peopled it—ruins of its loves, hopes, cares, and joys.

a great cross borne before a priest. He was an ugly priest by torchlight; of a lowering aspect, with an overhanging brow; and as his eyes met those of Mr Dorrit, looking bareheaded out of the carriage, his lips, moving as they chaunted, seemed to threaten that important traveller; likewise the action of his hand, which was in fact his manner of returning the traveller's salutation, seemed to come in aid of that menace.

Foreshadowing Mr Dorrit's fate?

he felt a pang. Surely not like jealousy? For why like jealousy?

Perhaps It has something to do with Little Dorrit having a more realistic perception of their true status in life?

tortoise-shell handled penknife—soiled,

None of us clearly know to whom or to what we are indebted in this wise, until some marked stop in the whirling wheel of life brings the right perception with it. It comes with sickness, it comes with sorrow, it comes with the loss of the dearly loved, it is one of the most frequent uses of adversity.

Clennam needed to spend time in the Marshalsea together truly get to know Little Dorrit.

One weak girl!

Little Dorrit independent not very weak!

I don't know why a great girl should be a term of reproach, for every rightly constituted male mind loves 'em great and small.

the shadow of the wall was dark upon him.

he and his dupes may be a warning to people not to have so much done with them again.' 'My dear Mr Clennam,' returned Ferdinand, laughing, 'have you really such a verdant hope? The next man who has as large a capacity and as genuine a taste for swindling, will succeed as well.

Mankind, in general, do not learn from their mistakes. Government operates with this assumption.

as a woman whose true hand would raise me high above myself and make me a far happier and better man;

Be guided only by the healer of the sick, the raiser of the dead, the friend of all who were afflicted and forlorn, the patient Master who shed tears of compassion for our infirmities. We cannot but be right if we put all the rest away, and do everything in remembrance of Him.

Wise and true counsel!

From a radiant centre, over the whole length and breadth of the tranquil firmament, great shoots of light streamed among the early stars, like signs of the blessed later covenant of peace and hope that changed the crown of thorns into a glory.

Beautiful!

won't give her children such distinctions herself, and won't allow them to be seen when they are given by other countries.

Every failure teaches a man something, if he will learn;

his little wife that was to be

So, Arthur and Little Dorrit will marry!

The poor room was a happy room that morning. Where in the world was there a room so full of quiet joy!