For just experience tells, in every soil, That those that think must govern those that toil.
Oliver Goldsmith (1728 - 1774)
Source: The Traveller
Contributed by: Zaady
Through torrid tracts with fainting steps they go, Where wild Altama murmurs to their woe.
Source: The Deserted Village
Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow, Or by the lazy Scheld or wandering Po.
Our Garrick 's a salad; for in him we see Oil, vinegar, sugar, and saltness agree!
The land of scholars and the nurse of arms.
So the loud torrent and the whirlwind's roar But bind him to his native mountains more.
A night-cap deck'd his brows instead of bay,- A cap by night, a stocking all the day.
Source: Description of an Author's Bed-chamber.
Ask me no questions, and I 'll tell you no fibs.
Source: She Stoops to Conquer
A flattering painter, who made it his care To draw men as they ought to be, not as they are.
Who pepper'd the highest was surest to please.
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