The fortunate circumstances of our lives are generally found, at last, to be of our own producing. Oliver Goldsmith More Quotes by Oliver Goldsmith More Quotes From Oliver Goldsmith And his best riches, ignorance of wealth. Oliver Goldsmith riches wealth ignorance Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done, Shoulder'd his crutch, and shew'd how fields were won. Oliver Goldsmith sorrow fields done He makes a very handsome corpse and becomes his coffin prodigiously. Oliver Goldsmith handsome coffins sarcastic What cities, as great as this, have... promised themselves immortality! Posterity can hardly trace the situation of some. The sorrowful traveller wanders over the awful ruins of others... Here stood their citadel, but now grown over with weeds; there their senate-house, but now the haunt of every noxious reptile; temples and theatres stood here, now only an undistinguished heap of ruins. Oliver Goldsmith weed cities house Man wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long. Oliver Goldsmith men life long For he that fights and runs away, may live to fight another day, but he, who is in battle slain, can never rise and fight again. Oliver Goldsmith Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no fibs. Oliver Goldsmith Hope, like the gleaming taper's light, Adorns and cheers our way And still, as darker grows the night, Emits a brighter ray. Oliver Goldsmith Ill fares the land, to hast'ning ill a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay Princes and Lords may flourish, or may fade A breath can make them, as a breath has made but a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroyed can never be supplied. Oliver Goldsmith People seldom improve when they have no other model, but themselves to copy after. Oliver Goldsmith The dancing pair that simply sought renown,By holding out to tire each other downThe swain mistrustless of his smutted face,While secret laughter titter'd round the placeThe bashful virgin's side-long looks of love,The matrons glance that would those looks reproveThese were thy charms, sweet village sports like these,With sweet succession, taught e'en toil to pleaseThese were thy bowers their cheerful influence shed,These were thy charms -- but all these charms are fled. Oliver Goldsmith Law grinds the poor, and rich men rule the law. Oliver Goldsmith rich poor law men
