Whatever be the motives which induce men to write,--whether avarice or fame,--the country becomes more wise and happy in which they most serve for instructors. — 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
How happy he who crowns in shades like these, A youth of labour with an age of ease. — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share
One man is born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and the other with a wooden ladle. — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share
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
Even children follow'd with endearing wile, And pluck'd his gown, to share the good man's smile. — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share
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
Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway, and fools, who came to scoff, remained to pray. — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share
Politics resemble religion; attempting to divest either of ceremony is the most certain mode of bringing either into contempt. — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share
To what fortuitous occurrence do we not owe every pleasure and convenience of our lives. — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share
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
[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
Age, that lessens the enjoyment of life, increases our desire of living — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share
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
Here lies David Garrick, describe me who can, An abridgment of all that was pleasant in man. — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share
