Oliver Goldsmith Quotes
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Pride in their port, defiance in their eye,I see the lords of humankind pass by.
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Some fleeting good, that mocks me with the view.
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The dog, to gain some private ends,Went mad, and bit the man.
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A man he was to all the country dear,And passing rich with forty pounds a year.
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Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done,Shoulder'd his crutch, and shew'd how fields were won.
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You may all go to pot.
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One writer, for instance, excels at a plan or a title page, another works away at the body of the book, and a third is a dab at an index.
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Good people all, with one acord,Lament for Madame Blaize,Who never wanted a good word —From those who spoke her praise.
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Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway,And fools, who came to scoff, remained to pray.
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Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain.
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Cheerful at morn, he wakes from short repose,Breasts the keen air, and carols as he goes.
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I find you want me to furnish you with argument and intellects too.
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No flocks that range the valley freeTo slaughter I condemn;Taught by that Power that pities me,I learn to pity them:But from the mountain’s grassy sideA guiltless feast I bring;A scrip with herbs and fruits supplied,And water from the spring.
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He calls his extravagance, generosity; and his trusting everybody, universal benevolence.
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Who peppered the highest was surest to please.
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The youth who follows his appetites too soon seizes the cup, before it has received its best ingredients, and by anticipating his pleasures, robs the remaining parts of life of their share, so that his eagerness only produces manhood of imbecility and an age of pain.
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That strain once more; it bids remembrance rise.
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And in that town a dog was found,As many dogs there be,Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound,And curs of low degree.
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The land of scholars and the nurse of arms.
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Who mix'd reason with pleasure, and wisdom with mirth:If he had any faults, he has left us in doubt.
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The more various our artificial necessities, the wider is our circle of pleasure; for all pleasure consists in obviating necessities as they rise; luxury, therefore, as it increases our wants, increases our capacity for happiness
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To what happy accident is it that we owe so unexpected a visit?
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The only art her guilt to cover,To hide her shame from every eye,To give repentance to her lover,And wring his bosom, is — to die.
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The twelve good rules, the royal game of goose.