A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other.
Interpretation
Every person is inherently complex and unknowable to others, highlighting the uniqueness of human experience.
This quote by Charles Dickens suggests that each individual possesses a depth of personality and complexity that remains a mystery to others. It implies that understanding one another is a lifelong endeavor, as each person's thoughts and experiences are unique and cannot be fully comprehended by someone else, emphasizing both individuality and the human connection.
In practice
In a discussion about the nature of relationships, this quote might illustrate the idea of emotional depth.
I recollected one story there was in the village, how that on a certain night in the year (it might be that very night for anything I knew), all the dead people came out of the ground and sat at the heads of their own graves till morning.
A silent look of affection and regard when all other eyes are turned coldly away-the consciousness that we possess the sympathy and affection of one being when all others have deserted us-is a hold, a stay, a comfort, in the deepest affliction, which no wealth could purchase, or power bestow.
Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts. I was better after I had cried, than before--more sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gentle.
There are not a few among the disciples of charity who require, in their vocation, scarcely less excitement than the votaries of pleasure in theirs.
You might, from your appearance, be the wife of Lucifer,” said Miss Pross, in her breathing. “Nevertheless, you shall not get the better of me. I am an Englishwoman.
Christmas is a poor excuse every 25th of December to pick a man's pockets.
I stay away from heavy-handed stuff, the good guy and the bad guy. It just doesn't interest me; all it does is create more fences between people, I think.
I'm very proud to be black, but black is not all I am. That's my cultural historical background, my genetic make-up, but it's not all of who I am nor is it the basis from which I answer every question.
Memory is a barricade against forgetting; light is a bulwark against darkness; life is a flex against the stillness of the grave. Maybe that's what I'm trying to do here, clear a space in all the debris, through all the anxieties and worries, where I can just exist, easily and simply, entire, for as long as I have left.
Though dreams can be deceiving; like faces are to hearts, they serve for sweet relieving, when fantasy and reality lie too far apart.
If there is in this world a well-attested account, it is that of vampires. Nothing is lacking: official reports, affidavits of well-known people, of surgeons, of priests, of magistrates; the judicial proof is most complete. And with all that, who is there who believes in vampires?
Why should I fear death?_x000D_ If I am, then death is not._x000D_ If Death is, then I am not._x000D_ Why should I fear that which can only exist when I do not?_x000D_ Long time men lay oppressed with slavish fear._x000D_ Religious tyranny did domineer._x000D_ At length the mighty one of Greece_x000D_ Began to assent the liberty of man.
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