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Here Lies Nolly Goldsmith, For Shortness Called Noll, Who Wrote Like An Angel, And Talk'd Like Poor Poll.
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Here lies Nolly Goldsmith, for shortness called Noll,
Who wrote like an angel, and talk'd like poor Poll.
-- David Garrick (1716-1779)
-- Impromptu Epitaph on Goldsmith
Related:
Are these the choice dishes the Doctor has sent us?
Is this the great poet whose works so content us? This Goldsmith's fine feast, who has written fine books?...
How blest is he who crowns, in shades like these, A youth of labor with an age of ease.
-- Oliver Goldsmith...
Here lies James Quinn. Deign, reader, to be taught, Whate'er thy strength of body, force of thought, In Nature's happiest mould however cast, To this complexion thou must come at last.
-- David Garrick (1716-1779) -- Epitaph on Quinn, Murphy's Life of Garrick, Vol. ii, p. 38...
I do not love a man who is zealous for nothing. -- Oliver Goldsmith
Prologues like compliments are loss of time; 'T is penning bows and making legs in rhyme.
-- David Garrick (1716-1779) -- Prologue to Crisp's Tragedy of Virginia...
A flattering painter, who made it his care to draw men as they ought to be, not as they are.
-- Oliver Goldsmith...
Eternal sunshine settles on its head. -- Oliver Goldsmith
Every absurdity has a champion to defend it. Oliver Goldsmith
The little mind who loves itself, will write and think with the vulga
but the great mind will be bravely eccentric, and scorn the beaten road, from universal benevolence....