“A reserved lover, it is said, always makes a suspicious husband.” — 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
Age, that lessens the enjoyment of life, increases our desire of living — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share Image
Thus let me hold thee to my heart, And every care resign: And we shall never, never part, My life-my all that's mine! — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share Image
Here lies David Garrick, describe me who can, An abridgment of all that was pleasant in man. — 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 means of volcanoes, those burning mountains that seem to discharge their materials from the lowest abysses of the earth.” quote by Oliver Goldsmith](https://sms4smile.com/quotes/img-quotes/b7d/oliver-goldsmith-772_abyss_t-here-are-depths-of-thousands-of-miles_88121.jpg)
