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 GoldsmithA mind too vigorous and active, serves only to consume the body to which it is joined.
Oliver GoldsmithTo me more dear, congenial to my heart, One native charm, than all the gloss of art.
Oliver Goldsmith