Richard Harris Barham

Ghosts, like ladies, never speak till spoke to.

His eyes so dim, so wasted each limb, that, heedless of grammar, they all cried, that's him!

He won't, won't he? Then bring me my boots.

Fear follows crime and is its punishment.

My first career ambitions involved turning into a boy; I intended to be either a railway guard or a knight errant.

Let my name stand among those who are willing to bear ridicule and reproach for the truth's sake, and so earn some right to rejoice when the victory is won.