As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,- Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
Oliver GoldsmithIf the soul be happily disposed, every thing becomes capable of affording entertainment, and distress will almost want a name.
Oliver GoldsmithIll fares the land, to hastening ills 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 destroy'd, can never be supplied.
Oliver GoldsmithOur pleasures are short, and can only charm at intervals; love is a method of protraction our greatest pleasure.
Oliver Goldsmith