O friendship! thou fond soother of the human breast, to thee we fly in every calamity; to thee the wretched seek for succor; on thee the care-tired son of misery fondly relies; from thy kind assistance the unfortunate always hopes relief, and may be sure of--disappointment.
Oliver GoldsmithAs ten millions of circles can never make a square, so the united voice of myriads cannot lend the smallest foundation to falsehood.
Oliver GoldsmithGood people all, with one accord, Lament for Madam Blaize, Who never wanted a good word From those who spoke her praise.
Oliver GoldsmithPity, though it may often relieve, is but, at best, a short-lived passion, and seldom affords distress more than transitory assistance; with some it scarce lasts from the first impulse till the hand can be put into the pocket.
Oliver Goldsmith