Great Expectations
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✒ Author | Charles Dickens |
📖 Pages | 801 |
⏰ Reading time | 31 hours 45 minutes |
💡 Originally published | 1861 |
🌏 Original language | English |
📌 Type | Novels |
📌 Genres | Prose, Psychological, Realism, Social |
📌 Sections | Psychological novel , Realistic novel , Social novel |
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Table of contents
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Chapter 1 | 1 |
Chapter 2 | 9 |
Chapter 3 | 24 |
Chapter 4 | 32 |
Chapter 5 | 47 |
Chapter 6 | 65 |
Chapter 7 | 68 |
Chapter 8 | 86 |
Chapter 9 | 107 |
Chapter 10 | 119 |
Chapter 11 | 129 |
Chapter 12 | 154 |
Chapter 13 | 162 |
Chapter 14 | 176 |
Chapter 15 | 180 |
Chapter 16 | 198 |
Chapter 17 | 206 |
Chapter 18 | 221 |
Chapter 19 | 243 |
Chapter 20 | 268 |
Chapter 21 | 281 |
Chapter 22 | 289 |
Chapter 23 | 310 |
Chapter 24 | 324 |
Chapter 25 | 333 |
Chapter 26 | 346 |
Chapter 27 | 359 |
Chapter 28 | 372 |
Chapter 29 | 382 |
Chapter 30 | 402 |
Chapter 31 | 417 |
Chapter 32 | 426 |
Chapter 33 | 436 |
Chapter 34 | 448 |
Chapter 35 | 457 |
Chapter 36 | 470 |
Chapter 37 | 482 |
Chapter 38 | 493 |
Chapter 39 | 515 |
Chapter 40 | 536 |
Chapter 41 | 558 |
Chapter 42 | 568 |
Chapter 43 | 580 |
Chapter 44 | 589 |
Chapter 45 | 603 |
Chapter 46 | 615 |
Chapter 47 | 629 |
Chapter 48 | 639 |
Chapter 49 | 651 |
Chapter 50 | 667 |
Chapter 51 | 675 |
Chapter 52 | 687 |
Chapter 53 | 696 |
Chapter 54 | 717 |
Chapter 55 | 740 |
Chapter 56 | 753 |
Chapter 57 | 762 |
Chapter 58 | 782 |
Chapter 59 | 795 |
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Chapter 1
My father's family name being Pirrip, and my Christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip. So, I called myself Pip, and came to be called Pip.
I give Pirrip as my father's family name, on the authority of his tombstone and my sister, — Mrs. Joe Gargery, who married the blacksmith. As I never saw my father or my mother, and never saw any likeness of either of them (for their days were long before the days of photographs), my first fancies regarding what they were like were unreasonably derived from their tombstones. The shape of the letters on my father's, gave me an odd idea that he was a square, stout, dark man, with curly black hair. From the character and turn of the inscription, "Also Georgiana Wife of the Above," I drew a childish conclusion that my mother was freckled and sickly. To five little stone lozenges, each about a foot and a half long, which were arranged in a neat row beside their grave, and were sacred to the memory of five little brothers of mine, — who gave up trying to get a living, exceedingly early in that universal struggle, — I am indebted for a belief I religiously entertained that they had all been born on their backs with their hands in their trousers-pockets, and had never taken them out in this state of existence.
Ours was the marsh country, down by the river, within, as the river wound, twenty miles of the sea. My first most vivid and broad impression of the identity of things seems to me to have been gained on a memorable raw afternoon towards evening. At such a time I found out for certain that this bleak place overgrown with nettles was the churchyard; and that Philip Pirrip, late of this parish, and also Georgiana wife of the above, were dead and buried; and that Alexander, Bartholomew, Abraham, Tobias, and Roger, infant children of the aforesaid, were also dead and buried; and that the dark flat wilderness beyond the churchyard, intersected with dikes and mounds and gates, with scattered cattle feeding on it, was the marshes; and that the low leaden line beyond was the river; and that the distant savage lair from which the wind was rushing was the sea; and that the small bundle of shivers growing afraid of it all and beginning to cry, was Pip.
"Hold your noise!" cried a terrible voice, as a man started up from among the graves at the side of the church porch. "Keep still, you little devil, or I'll cut your throat!"
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Quotes
The beautiful young lady at Miss Havisham's, and she's more beautiful than anybody ever was, and I admire her dreadfully, and I want to be a gentleman on her account
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