Date: 1764

"But while this softer art their bliss supplies, / It gives their follies also room to rise; / For praise too dearly loved or warmly sought / Enfeebles all internal strength of thought; / And the weak soul, within itself unblest, / Leans for all pleasure on another's breast."

— Goldsmith, Oliver (1728?-1774)

Date: 1764

"Thus, while around the wave-subjected soil / Impels the native to repeated toil, / Industrious habits in each bosom reign, / And industry begets a love of gain."

— Goldsmith, Oliver (1728?-1774)

Date: 1764

"For, as refinement stops, from sire to son / Unaltered, unimproved the manners run; / And love's and friendship's finely pointed dart / Fall blunted from each indurated heart."

— Goldsmith, Oliver (1728?-1774)

Date: 1766

"Physicians tell us of a disorder in which the whole body is so exquisitely sensible, that the slightest touch gives pain: what some have thus suffered in their persons, this gentleman felt in his mind."

— Goldsmith, Oliver (1728?-1774)

Date: 1766

"His mind had leaned upon their adulation, and that support taken away, he could find no pleasure in the applause of his heart, which he had never learnt to reverence."

— Goldsmith, Oliver (1728?-1774)

Date: 1766

"We are not to judge of the feelings of others by what we might feel if in their place. Howsoever dark the habitation of the mole to our eyes, yet the animal itself finds the apartment sufficiently lightsome. And to confess a truth, this man's mind seems fitted to his station; for when he convers...

— Goldsmith, Oliver (1728?-1774)

Date: 1766

"The blossom opening to the day, / The dews of heaven refin'd, / Could nought of purity display, / To emulate his mind."

— Goldsmith, Oliver (1728?-1774)

Date: 1766

"We talked of the pleasures of temperance, and of the sun-shine in the mind unpolluted with guilt."

— Goldsmith, Oliver (1728?-1774)

Date: 1766

"I have ever perceived, that where the mind was capacious, the affections were good."

— Goldsmith, Oliver (1728?-1774)

Date: 1766

"The tumult in her mind seemed not yet abated; she said twenty giddy things that looked like joy, and then laughed out loud at her own want of meaning."

— Goldsmith, Oliver (1728?-1774)