Quote

Of praise a mere glutton, he swallow'd what came, And the puff a dunce, he mistook it for fame Till his relish grown callous, almost to displease, Who pepper'd the highest was surest to please.

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
Fame
Surest
Mistook
Highest
Swallow
Dunce
Please
Relish
Glutton
Almost
Flattery
Dunces
Came
Grown
Pepper
Till
Callous
Praise
Peppers
Mere
Puff
Displease

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For the first time, the best may err, art may persuade, and novelty spread out its charms. The first fault is the child of simplicity but every other the offspring of guilt.
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The work of eradicating crimes is not by making punishment familiar, but formidable.
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O Luxury! thou curst by Heaven's decree!
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As for disappointing them I should not so much mind but I can't abide to disappoint myself.
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Philosophy ... should not pretend to increase our present stock, but make us economists of what we are possessed of.
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Life is a journey that must be traveled no matter how bad the roads and accommodations.
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The English laws punish vice the Chinese laws do more, they reward virtue.
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Crimes generally punish themselves.
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Every absurdity has a champion to defend it.
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When any one of our relations was found to be a person of a very bad character, a troublesome guest, or one we desired to get rid of, upon his leaving my house I ever took care to lend him a riding-coat, or a pair of boots, or sometimes a horse of small value, and I always had the satisfaction of finding he never came back to return them.
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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!
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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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Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog 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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I have found by experience that they who have spent all their lives in cities contract not only an effeminacy of habit, but of thinking.
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Thus 'tis with all their chief and constant care Is to seem everything but what they are.
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It is impossible to combat enthusiasm with reason for though it makes a show of resistance, it soon eludes the pressure, refers you to distinctions not to be understood, and feelings which it cannot explain. A man who would endeavor to fix an enthusiast by argument might as well attempt to spread quicksilver with his finger.
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There is nothing so absurd or ridiculous that has not at some time been said by some philosopher. Fontenelle says he would undertake to persuade the whole public of readers to believe that the sun was neither the cause of light or heat, if he could only get six philosophers on his side.
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Wisdom makes a slow defense against trouble, though a sure one in the end.
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And e'en while fashion's brightest arts decoy, The heart distrusting asks if this be joy.
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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