Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Oliver Goldsmith

Quote by Oliver Goldsmith

Work

The works of Oliver Goldsmith, ed. by P. Cunningham

This book is a curated compilation of Oliver Goldsmith's writings, including poetry, plays, and prose, meticulously edited by P. Cunningham. more

Author

Oliver Goldsmith
Oliver Goldsmith

Oliver Goldsmith was an Irish novelist, playwright, poet, and physician. He is best known for his novel 'The Vicar of Wakefield' and his plays 'She Stoops to Conquer' and 'The Good-Natur'd Man'. Goldsmith's works are characterized by their wit, humor, and moral depth. more

You May Also Like

“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.”

“Near yonder copse, where once the garden smil'd, And still where many a garden flower grows wild, There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from town's he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had chang'd nor wish'd to change his place; Unskilful he to fawn, or seek for power, By doctrines fashion'd to the varying hour; Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize. More bent to raise the wretched than to rise.”

“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.”

“Sweet was the sound, when oft, at evening's close, Up yonder hill the village murmur rose; There as I passed, with careless steps and slow, The mingling notes came soften'd from below; The swain responsive as the milkmaid sung, The sober herd that low'd to meet their young; The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school; The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind; These all in sweet confusion sought the shade, And fill'd each pause the nightingale had made.”