Money and Wealth

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

A large income is the best recipe for happiness I ever heard of. It certainly may secure all the myrtle and turkey part of it.

A shilling life will give you all the facts.

If only God would give me some clear sign! Like making a large deposit in my name at a Swiss bank.

The world has enough for everyone’s needs, but not enough for everyone’s greed.

It is health that is real wealth and not pieces of gold and silver.

Sing a song of sixpence, A pocket full of rye, Four and twenty blackbirds, Baked in a pie; When the pie was opened, The birds began to sing; Wasn’t that a dainty dish To set before a king? The king was in his countinghouse Counting out his money; The queen was in the parlor Eating bread and honey; The maid was in the garden Hanging out the clothes, Along came a blackbird, And snipped off her nose.

Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes-Benz, My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends.

While money doesn’t talk, it swears.

over a high income.

Why is it no one ever sent me yet One perfect limousine, do you suppose? Ah no, it’s always just my luck to get

No picture is made to endure nor to live with but it is made to sell and sell quickly with usura, sin against nature, is thy bread ever more of stale rags is thy bread dry as paper.

With Usura With usura hath no man a house of good stone each block cut smooth and well fitting.

It’s easy ’nough to titter w’en de stew is smokin’ hot, But hit’s mighty ha’d to giggle w’en dey’s nuffin’ in de pot.

I’m tired of Love: I’m still more tired of Rhyme. But Money gives me pleasure all the time.

I asked no other thing— No other—was denied— I offered Being—for it— The Mighty Merchant sneered— Brazil? He twirled a Button— Without a glance my way— “But—Madam—is there nothing else— That We can show—Today?”

Thou shalt not covet, but tradition Approves all forms of competition.

No graven images may be Worshipped, except the currency.

Just for a handful of silver he left us, Just for a riband to stick in his coat.

Oh, poverty parts good company.

His best companions, innocence and health; And his best riches, ignorance of wealth.

Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay; Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade; A breath can make them, as a breath has made; But a bold peasantry, their country’s pride, When once destroy’d, can never be supplied.

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow’r, And all that beauty, all that wealth e’er gave, Awaits alike the inevitable hour: The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

Get place and wealth, if possible with grace; If not, by any means get wealth and place.