I love everything that's old, - old friends, old times, old manners, old books, old wine.
Oliver GoldsmithOf praise a mere glutton, he swallow'd what came, And the puff a dunce, he mistook it for fame; Till his relish grown callous, almost to displease, Who pepper'd the highest was surest to please.
Oliver GoldsmithSuch dainties to them, their health it might hurt; It 's like sending them ruffles when wanting a shirt.
Oliver GoldsmithWell had the boding tremblers learn'd to trace The day's disasters in his morning face; Full well they laugh'd with counterfeited glee At all his jokes, for many a joke had he; Full well the busy whisper circling round Convey'd the dismal tidings when he frown'd. Yet was he kind, or if severe in aught, The love he bore to learning was in fault; The village all declar'd how much he knew, 'Twas certain he could write and cipher too.
Oliver Goldsmith