A Quote by Dick Gregory

Riches do not delight us so much with their possession, as torment us with their loss. — © Dick Gregory
Riches do not delight us so much with their possession, as torment us with their loss.
Riches do not exhilarate us so much with their possession as they torment us with their loss.
The greater the Difficulty the more Glory in surmounting it, and the loss of false Joys secures to us a much better Possession of real ones.
Those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end, for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.
Let us not envy some men their accumulated riches; their burden would be too heavy for us; we could not sacrifice, as they do, health, quiet, honor and conscience, to obtain them: It is to pay so dear from them that the bargain is a loss.
All of us know about learning life's lessons through pain, struggle, and loss. But few of us realize that it is often the gentlest lessons that teach us most. Serendipity can instruct us as much as sorrow.
I am poor and naked, but I am the chief of the nation. We do not want riches but we do want to train our children right. Riches would do us no good. We could not take them with us to the other world. We do not want riches. We want peace and love.
Books delight us when prosperity smiles upon us; they comfort us inseparably when stormy fortune frowns on us.
Design should do the same thing in everyday life that art does when encountered: amaze us, scare us or delight us, but certainly open us to new worlds within our daily existence.
When I was growing up, we never had much money. My parents were divorced young, but I was always surrounded by loving individuals. They couldn't give us riches, but they gave us their stories, their hearts, and their time.
These studies are a spur to the young, a delight to the old: an ornament in prosperity, a consoling refuge in adversity; they are pleasure for us at home, and no burden abroad; they stay up with us at night, they accompany us when we travel, they are with us in our country visits.
Books delight to the very marrow of one's bones. They speak to us, consult with us, and join with us in a living and intense intimacy.
Environment grinds us, forces us to adjust, and--consciously or not--kills our most precious possession: that something which enables us to speak with ourselves and with God.
Every strong conviction ends by taking possession of us; it overcomes and absorbs us, and tears us ruthlessly from everything else. Has the Cross so seized upon your life?
If true, the Pythagorean principles as to abstain from flesh, foster innocence; if ill-founded they at least teach us frugality, and what loss have you in losing your cruelty? It merely deprives you of the food of lions and vultures...let us ask what is best - not what is customary. Let us love temperance - let us be just - let us refrain from bloodshed.
What a torment it is to see so much loveliness passing and repassing before us, and yet not dare to lay hold of it!
Love gives us copious potions of delight, Of pain and ecstasy, and peace and care; Love leads us upward, to the mountain height, And, like an angel, stands beside us there; Then thrusts us, demon-like, in some abyss: Where, in the darkness of despair, we grope, Till, suddenly, Love greets us with a kiss And guides us back to flowery fields of hope.
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