Oliver Goldsmith
Ireland
10 Nov 1728 // 4 Apr 1774
Writer, Poet
10 Nov 1728 // 4 Apr 1774
Writer, Poet
Quotes
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Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway,
And fools who came to scoff, remain'd to pray.
And fools who came to scoff, remain'd to pray.
The Deserted Village
Thou source of all my bliss and all my woe,
That found'st me poor at first, and keep'st me so.
That found'st me poor at first, and keep'st me so.
The Deserted Village
On the stage he was natural, simple, affecting;
'T was only that when he was off he was acting.
'T was only that when he was off he was acting.
Retaliation
Where wealth and freedom reign contentment fails,
And honour sinks where commerce long prevails.
And honour sinks where commerce long prevails.
The Traveller
Even children follow'd with endearing wile,
And pluck'd his gown, to share the good man's smile.
And pluck'd his gown, to share the good man's smile.
The Deserted Village
Where village statesmen talk'd with looks profound,
And news much older than their ale went round.
And news much older than their ale went round.
The Deserted Village
They please, are pleas'd; they give to get esteem,
Till seeming blest, they grow to what they seem.
Till seeming blest, they grow to what they seem.
The Traveller
The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind,
And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind.
And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind.
The Deserted Village
Who mix'd reason with pleasure, and wisdom with mirth:
If he had any faults, he has left us in doubt.
If he had any faults, he has left us in doubt.
Retaliation
Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done,
Shoulder'd his crutch, and shew'd how fields were won.
Shoulder'd his crutch, and shew'd how fields were won.
The Deserted Village
Search
On Anger: "For every minute you remain angry, you give up sixty seconds of peace of mind."
Essays
Essays
On Destiny: "Our destiny exercises its influence over us even when, as yet, we have not learned its nature: it is our future that lays down the law of our today."
Human, All Too Human
Human, All Too Human
On Friendship: "A crowd is not company; and faces are but a gallery of pictures; and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no love."
Essays
Essays