A Quote by Lord Byron

A thirst for gold, The beggar's vice, which can but overwhelm The meanest hearts. — © Lord Byron
A thirst for gold, The beggar's vice, which can but overwhelm The meanest hearts.
My treasure chest is filled with gold. Gold . . . gold . . . gold . . . Vagabond's gold and drifter's gold . . . Worthless, priceless, dreamer's gold . . . Gold of the sunset . . . gold of the dawn . . .Gold of the showertrees on my lawn . . . Poet's gold and artist's gold . . . Gold that can not be bought or sold - Gold.
The thirst for adventure is the vent which Destiny offers; a war, a crusade, a gold mine, a new country, speak to the imagination and offer.
In the meanest hut is a romance, if you knew the hearts there.
The possession of wealth leads almost inevitably to its abuse. It is the chief, if not the only, cause of evils which desolate this world below. The thirst for gold is responsible for the most regrettable lapses into sin.
If we wish to quench our thirst, we must lay aside books which explain thirst and take a drink.
As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race... and the hearts of the meanest were humbled.
When your throat is parched with thirst, do you desire a cup of gold?
If I cannot overwhelm with my quality, I will overwhelm with my quantity.
Evangelism is just one beggar telling another beggar where to find the bread.
Teach music and singing at school in such a way that it is not a torture but a joy for the pupil; instill a thirst for finer music in him, a thirst which will last for a lifetime.
A beggar always remains a beggar. Africa, stop begging - you have what it takes to solve your problem.
It is because Jesus Christ experienced cosmic thirst on the cross that you and I can have our spiritual thirst satisfied. It is because he died that we can be born again. And he did it gladly. Seeing what he did and why he did it will turn our hearts away from the things that enslave us and toward him in worship. That is the gospel, and it is the same for skeptics, believers, insiders, outcasts, and everyone in between.
I see a kind of thirst in her expression, the same one I saw when she told me about her brother in the back room of the tattoo parlor. Before the attack simulation I might have called it a thirst for justice, or even revenge, but now I am able to identify it as a thirst for blood. And even as it frightens me, I understand it. Which should probably frighten me even more.
I won't slave for beggar's pay, likewise gold and jewels, but I would slave to learn the way, to sink your ship of fools.
I looked, and had an acute pleasure in looking,--a precious yet poignant pleasure; pure gold, with a steely point of agony: a pleasure like what the thirst-perishing man might feel who knows the well to which he has crept is poisoned, yet stoops and drinks divine draughts nevertheless.
There can be no other criterion, no other standard than gold. Yes, gold which never changes, which can be shaped into ingots, bars, coins, which has no nationality and which is eternally and universally accepted as the unalterable fiduciary value par excellence.
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