 | Elizabeth M. Knowles - 1999 - 1160 sivua
...747) 12 How small of all that human hearts endure, That part which laws or kings can cause or cure. Still to ourselves in every place consigned, Our own felicity we make or lind. unes added to Oliver Goldsmith's The Traveller ( 1 764) I. 429; . í Goldsmith 545:11 13 Let... | |
 | 2000 - 456 sivua
...Traveller, 1764: How small of all that human hearts endure, That part which laws or kings can cause or cure Still to ourselves in every place consigned, Our own felicity we make or find." « Cf. Hume, Essays, II. 268. 10 depend less on our control over worldly goods (or on the purely economical... | |
 | Christopher Hitchens - 2002 - 452 sivua
...Travellers': How small, of all that human hearts endure, That part which laws or kings can cause or cure! Still to ourselves in every place consigned Our own felicity we make or find. (Of course, if the human timber can only grow crooked, then there's no need for the exertion of the... | |
 | John Richetti - 2005 - 974 sivua
...poetry: How small, of all that human hearts endure, That part which laws or kings can cause or cure. Still to ourselves in every place consigned, Our own felicity we make or find . . .3 Pope or Swift or Dryden agreed with these sentiments in some moods, but their great satires... | |
 | Arthur Schopenhauer - 2007 - 665 sivua
...everything a man has ultimately to appeal to himself ; or, as Goldsmith puts it in The Traveller'. • Still to ourselves in every place consigned Our own felicity we make or find, Himself is the source of the best and most a man can be or achieve. The more this is so — the more... | |
 | Arthur Schopenhauer - 2007 - 109 sivua
...everything a man has ultimately to appeal to himself ; or, as Goldsmith puts it in The Traveller'. Stitt to ourselves in every place consigned Our own felicity we make or find, Himself is the source of the best and most a man can be or achieve. The more this is so — the more... | |
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How small, of all that human hearts endure, That part which laws or kings can cause or cure ! Still to ourselves in every place consigned, Our own felicity we make or find : With secret course, which no loud storms annoy, Glides the smooth current of... 
