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As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,- Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.

Oliver Goldsmith

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Oliver Goldsmith
Age: 43 †
Born: 1730
Born: November 10
Died: 1774
Died: April 4
Dramaturge
Essayist
Literary Critic
Novelist
Physician
Physician Writer
Playwright
Poet
Polygraph
Theatrical Producer
Writer
Elphin
County Roscommon
Oliver Goldsmit
Doctor Goldsmith
Oliverio Goldsmith
Oliverus Goldsmith
Olver Goldsmith
Olivier Goldsmith
Dottor Golssmith
Tom Telescope
Solomon Winlove
James Willington
Author of the Vicar of Wakefield
Dr Goldsmith
Inspired Idiot
Form
Leaves
Breasts
Swells
Awful
Settling
Vale
Clouds
Sunshine
Midway
Spread
Lifts
Settles
Eternity
Tall
Cliff
Eternal
Round
Cliffs
Head
Rounds
Breast
Though
Storm
Rolling

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Wisdom makes a slow defense against trouble, though a sure one in the end.
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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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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 dialogism, which in some measure proves that the essence of spirituality may be referred to the second predicable.
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The first time I read an excellent book, it is to me just as if I had gained a new friend. When I read a book over I have perused before, it resembles the meeting with an old one.
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Quality and title have such allurements that hundreds are ready to give up all their own importance, to cringe, to flatter, to look little, and to pall every pleasure in constraint, merely to be among the great, though without the least hopes of improving their understanding or sharing their generosity. They might be happier among their equals.
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The heart of every man lies open to the shafts of correction if the archer can take proper aim.
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Alas! the joys that fortune brings Are trifling, and decay, And those who prize the trifling things, More trifling still than they.
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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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Hope, like the gleaming taper
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Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see, My heart untravelled, fondly turns to thee Still to my brother turns, with ceaseless pain, And drags at each remove a lengthening chain.
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If the soul be happily disposed, every thing becomes capable of affording entertainment, and distress will almost want a name.
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I do not love a man who is zealous for nothing.
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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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Don't let us make imaginary evils, when you know we have so many real ones to encounter.
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Religion does what philosophy could never do it shows the equal dealings of Heaven to the happy and the unhappy, and levels all human enjoyments to nearly the same standard. It gives to both rich and poor the same happiness hereafter, and equal hopes to aspire after it.
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In my time, the follies of the town crept slowly among us, but now they travel faster than a stagecoach.
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You, that are going to be married, think things can never be done too fast: but we that are old, and know what we are about, must elope methodically, madam.
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Romance and novel paint beauty in colors more charming than nature, and describe a happiness that humans never taste. How deceptive and destructive are those pictures of consummate bliss!
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How blest is he who crowns in shades like these A youth of labour with an age of ease!
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The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind.
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