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Showing posts with label riches. Show all posts
Showing posts with label riches. Show all posts

Sunday, October 31, 2021

Post #3096

Riches do not consist in the possession of treasures, but in the use made of them.
—Napoleon Bonaparte

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Friday, April 06, 2018

Post #2550

It was wisely said, by a man of great observation, that there are as many miseries beyond riches as on this side of them.
—Izaak Walton

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Monday, June 05, 2017

Post #2351

If thou be rich, strive to command thy money, lest it command thee.
—Francis Quarles

Wednesday, November 02, 2016

Wednesday, October 07, 2015

Post #1918

I CANNOT call riches better than the baggage of virtue. The Roman word is better, impedimenta. For as the baggage is to an army, so is riches to virtue. It cannot be spared, nor left behind, but it hindereth the march; yea, and the care of it, sometimes loseth or disturbeth the victory. Of great riches there is no real use, except it be in the distribution; the rest is but conceit.
—Francis Bacon

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Post #1793

Rank and riches are chains of gold, but still they are chains.
—Giovanni Ruffini

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Friday, August 29, 2014

Post #1630

Health is the greatest gift, contentedness the best riches.
—Dhammapada

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Thursday, August 07, 2014

Post #1614

That man is the richest whose pleasures are the cheapest.
—Henry David Thoreau 

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Thursday, May 01, 2014

Post #1538

Worldly riches are like nuts ; many clothes are torn in getting them, many a tooth broke in cracking them, but never a belly filled with eating them.
—Ralph Venning

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Monday, October 28, 2013

Post #1387

No man can tell whether he is rich or poor by turning to his ledger. It is the heart that makes him rich. He is rich or poor according to what he is, not according to what he has.
—Henry Ward Beecher

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The Penalty of Leadership

In every field of human endeavor, he that is first must perpetually live in the white light of publicity. Whether the leadership be vested in a man or in a manufactured product, emulation and envy are ever at work. In art, in literature, in music, in industry, the reward and the punishment are always the same. The reward is widespread recognition; the punishment, fierce denial and detraction. When a man’s work becomes a standard for the whole world, it also becomes a target for the shafts of the envious few. If his work be mediocre, he will be left severely alone – if he achieve a masterpiece, it will set a million tongues a -wagging. Jealousy does not protrude its forked tongue at the artist who produces a commonplace painting. Whatsoever you write, or paint, or play, or sing, or build, no one will strive to surpass or to slander you unless your work be stamped with the seal of genius. Long, long after a great work or a good work has been done, those who are disappointed or envious, continue to cry out that it cannot be done. Spiteful little voices in the domain of art were raised against our own Whistler as a mountebank, long after the big world had acclaimed him its greatest artistic genius. Multitudes flocked to Bayreuth to worship at the musical shrine of Wagner, while the little group of those whom he had dethroned and displaced argued angrily that he was no musician at all. The little world continued to protest that Fulton could never build a steamboat, while the big world flocked to the river banks to see his boat steam by. The leader is assailed because he is a leader, and the effort to equal him is merely added proof of that leadership. Failing to equal or to excel, the follower seeks to depreciate and to destroy – but only confirms once more the superiority of that which he strives to supplant. There is nothing new in this. It is as old as the world and as old as human passions – envy, fear, greed, ambition, and the desire to surpass. And it all avails nothing. If the leader truly leads, he remains – the leader. Master-poet, master-painter, master-workman, each in his turn is assailed, and each holds his laurels through the ages. That which is good or great makes itself known, no matter how loud the clamor of denial. That which deserves to live — lives.
written by Theodore F. MacManus

A deadly viper once bit a hole snipe's hide; But 'twas the viper, not the snipe, that died.

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