He hath a fair sepulchre in the grateful stomach of the judicious epicure--and for such a tomb might be content to die.

A woman asked a coachman, "Are you full inside?" Upon which Lamb put his head through the window and said, "I am quite full inside; that last piece of pudding at Mr. Gillman's did the business for me."

To pile up honey upon sugar, and sugar upon honey, to an interminable tedious sweetness.

I'm not final because I'm right, I'm right because I'm final.

Half as sober as a judge.

I love to lose myself in other men's minds. When I am not walking, I am reading; I cannot sit and think. Books think for me. - Charles Lamb (used pseudonym Elia),