The Works of Oliver Goldsmith: Life. Vicar of Wakefield. Essays. Letters

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G. Bell and sons, 1885

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U.S. Department of Justice,
wakie wakie
let's go fishing!
on G-D'S
for(e!): said Cleobolus, "That where the citizens fear blame more than punishment."
(google it! vs google chrome it! vs bring it!)
Q: who gave Cleobolus THAT?
A: G-D
One day, at the court of Periander of Corinth, a question was proposed:
which was the most perfect government?
Q: who was Cleobolus?
A: Cleobolus was one of the seven wise men of Greece
Q: who were the others?
A: bro(t)her! spend some of (t)HIS time G-D gave you reading
The History of Greece
Vol. 1
by Dr. Goldsmith
chew! chew!
ho ho ho
Marry CHRISTmas 2016

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Page 365 - To die, to sleep ; To sleep : perchance to dream ; ay, there's the rub ; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause : there's the respect That makes calamity of so long life...
Page 71 - I WAS ever of opinion that the honest man, who married and brought up a large family, did more service than he who continued single, and only talked of population.
Page 102 - Twas so for me that Edwin did. And so for him will I.
Page 366 - To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all...
Page 20 - I received one morning a message from poor Goldsmith that he was in great distress, and, as it was not in his power to come to me, begging that I would come to him as soon as possible. I sent him a guinea, and promised to come to him directly. I accordingly went as soon as I was...
Page 343 - And Miriam the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her hand ; and all the women went out after her with timbrels and with dances. And Miriam answered them, Sing ye to the LORD, for he hath triumphed gloriously ; the horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea.
Page 183 - When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray ; What charm can soothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away ? The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom — is to die.
Page 45 - No man was more foolish when he had not a pen in his hand, or more wise when he had.

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