Quotes
Quotes about Gold
Fire tries gold, misery tries brave men. [Lat., Ignis aurum probat, misera fortes viros.]
How beauteous are rouleaus! how charming chests Containing ingots, bags of dollars, coins (Not of old victors, all whose heads and crests Weigh not the thin ore where their visage shines, But) of find unclipt gold, where dully rests Some likeness, which the glittering cirque confines, Of modern, reigning, sterling, stupid stamp;-- Yes! ready money is Aladdin's lamp.
Gold once out of the earth is no more due unto it; what was unreasonably committed to the ground, is reasonably resumed from it; let monuments and rich fabricks, not riches, adorn men's ashes.
The stars were glittering in the heaven's dusk meadows, Far west, among those flowers of the shadows, The thin, clear crescent lustrous over her, Made Ruth raise question, looking through the bars Of heaven, with eyes half-oped, what God, what comer Unto the harvest of the eternal summer, Had flung his golden hook down on the field of stars.
Such a slender moon, going up and up, Waxing so fast from night to night, And swelling like an orange flower-bud, bright, Fated, methought, to round as to a golden cup, And hold to my two lips life's best of wine.
There are two golden rules for an orchestra: start together and finish together. The public doesn't give a damn what goes on in between.
A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favour rather than silver and gold.
For in the true nature of things, if we rightly consider, every green tree is far more glorious than if it were made of gold and silver.
Yosemite Valley, to me, is always a sunrise, a glitter of green and golden wonder in a vast edifice of stone and space.
Now landsmen all, whoever you may be, If you want to rise to the top of the tree, If your soul isn't fettered to an office stool, Be careful to be guided by this golden rule-- Stick close to your desks and never go to sea, And you all may be Rulers of the Queen's Navee.
To most people loneliness is a doom. Yet loneliness is the very thing which God has chosen to be one of the schools of training for His very own. It is the fire that sheds the dross and reveals the gold.
"If you don't mind me asking," came the bell-like tones of the Golden Diana, "I'd like to know where you got that City Hall brogue. I did not know that Liberty was necessarily Irish." "If ye'd studied the history of art in its foreign complications, ye'd not need ask," replied Mrs. Liberty, "If ye wasn't so light and giddy ye'd know that I was made by a Dago and presented to the American people on behalf of the French Government for the purpose of welcomin' Irish immigrants into the Dutch city of New York. 'Tis that I've been doing night and day since I was erected."
Up in the heights of the evening skies I see my City of Cities float In sunset's golden and crimson dyes: I look and a great joy clutches my throat! Plateau of roofs by canyons crossed: windows by thousands fire-furled-- O gazing, how the heart is lost in the Deepest City in the World.
Just where the Treasury's marble front Looks over Wall Street's mingled nations,-- Where Jews and Gentiles most are wont To throng for trade and last quotations; Where, hour, by hour, the rates of gold Outrival, in the ears of people, The quarter-chimes, serenely tolled From Trinity's undaunted steeple.
(Pistol:) And tidings do I bring and lucky joys And golden times and happy news of price. (Falstaff:) I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of this world.
The smoke ascends In a rosy-and-golden haze. The spires Shine and are changed. In the valley Shadows rise. The lark sings on. The sun Closing his benediction, Sinks, and the darkening air Thrills with the sense of the triumphing night,-- Night with train of stars And her great gift of sleep.
The sea appears all golden Beneath the sun-lit sky.
October turned by maple's leaves to gold; The most are gone now; here and there one lingers; Soon these will slip from the twig's weak hold, Like coins between a dying miser's fingers.
The sweet calm sunshine of October, now Warms the low spot; upon its grassy mould The purple oak-leaf falls; the birchen bough Drops its bright spoil like arrow-heads of gold.
Prince Edward all in gold, as he great Jove had been, The Mountfords all in plumes, like estridges were seen.
All furnished, all in arms; All plum'd like estridges that with the wind Bated like eagles having lately bathed; Glittering in golden coats like images; As full of spirit as the month of May And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer; Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.
Pansies? You praise the ones that grow today Here in the garden; had you seen the place When Sutherland was living! Here they grew, From blue to deeper blue, in midst of each A golden dazzle like a glimmering star, Each broader, bigger than a silver crown; While here the weaver sat, his labor done, Watching his azure pets and rearing them, Until they seem'd to know his step and touch, And stir beneath his smile like living things: The very sunshine loved them, and would lie Here happy, coming early, lingering late, Because they were so fair.
The beauteous pansies rise In purple, gold, and blue, With tints of rainbow hue Mocking the sunset skies.
He who has gold makes and accomplishes whatever he wishes in the world and finally uses it to send souls to paradise.
Say good-bye er howdy-do-- What's the odds betwixt the two? Comin'--goin'--every day-- Best friends first to go away-- Grasp of hands you'd ruther hold Than their weight in solid gold, Slips their grip while greetin' you,-- Say good-bye er howdy-do?
