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Deep in the frozen regions of the north, A goddess violated brought thee forth, Immortal Liberty!

Tobias Smollett

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Tobias Smollett
Age: 50 †
Born: 1721
Born: March 19
Died: 1771
Died: September 17
Historian
Journalist
Novelist
Physician Writer
Poet
Surgeon
Translator
Tobias George Smollett
Tobias George Smollet
Regions
Immortal
North
Forth
Thee
Brought
Violated
Deep
Goddess
Liberty
Frozen

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The Highlanders regale themselves with whisky. They find it an excellent preservation against the winter cold. It is given with great success to the infants in the confluent smallpox.
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A man's opinion of danger varies at different times, in consequence of an irregular tide of animal spirits and he is actuated by considerations which he dares not avow.
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A mere index hunter, who held the eel of science by the tail.
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The bread I eat in London, is a deleterious paste, mixed up with chalk, alum, and bone ashes: insipid to the taste, and destructive to the constitution.
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Thy fatal shafts unerring move I bow before thine altar, Love!
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The capital is become an overgrown monster which, like a dropsical head, will in time leave the body and extremities without nourishment and support.
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And hearts resolved and hands prepared The blessings they enjoy to guard.
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True courage scorns to vent her prowess in a storm of words and to the valiant action speaks alone.
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To the valiant actions speak alone.
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A mere index hunter, who held the eel of science by the tail. Index-hunter is a term used mockingly, meaning one who acquires superficial knowledge merely by consulting indexes. The '[holding] the eel of science by the tail' allusion was used in 1728 by Alexander Pope (q.v.).
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Nature I'll court in her sequester'd haunts, By mountain, meadow, streamlet, grove, or cell Where the pois'd lark his evening ditty chants, And health, and peace, and contemplation dwell.
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The great Cham of literature. (Samuel Johnson)
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I think for my part one half of the nation is mad - and the other not very sound.
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Some folks are wise and some are otherwise.
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Glory is the child of peril.
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Thy spirit, Independence, let me share! Lord of the lion-heart and eagle-eye thy steps I follow with my bosom bare, nor heed the storm that howls along the sky.
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Writing is all a lottery -- I have been a loser by the works of the greatest men of the age.
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