At night returning, every labour sped, He sits him down, the monarch of a shed; Smiles by his cheerful fire, and round… — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share Image
What if in Scotland's wilds we viel'd our head, Where tempests whistle round the sordid bed; Where the rug's two-fold use we… — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share Image
Nothing is so contemptible as that affectation of wisdom, which some display, by universal incredulity. — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share Image
The fortunate circumstances of our lives are generally found, at last, to be of our own producing. — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share Image
How happy he who crowns in shades like these, A youth of labour with an age of ease. — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share Image
One man is born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and the other with a wooden ladle. — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share Image
He cast off his friends as a huntsman his pack, For he knew when he pleas'd he could whistle them back. — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share Image
Even children follow'd with endearing wile, And pluck'd his gown, to share the good man's smile. — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share Image
The premises being thus settled, I proceed to observe that the concatenation of self-existence, proceeding in a reciprocal duplicate ratio, naturally produces a problematical… — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share Image
Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway, and fools, who came to scoff, remained to pray. — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share Image
Politics resemble religion; attempting to divest either of ceremony is the most certain mode of bringing either into contempt. — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share Image
To what fortuitous occurrence do we not owe every pleasure and convenience of our lives. — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share Image
Every acknowledgment of gratitude is a circumstance of humiliation; and some are found to submit to frequent mortifications of this kind, proclaiming what obligations… — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share Image
[T]here are depths of thousands of miles which are hidden from our inquiry. The only tidings we have from those unfathomable regions are by… — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share Image
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