Early morning hath gold in its mouth.
A Friend is a treasure. More precious than Gold, For love shared is priceless And never grows old.
In the absence of the gold standard, there is no way to protect savings from confiscation through inflation. There is no safe store of value.
Gold, for the instant, lost its luster in his eyes, for there were countless treasures of the heart which it could never purchase.
Genius, in one respect, is like gold; numbers of persons are constantly writing about both, who have neither.
As the yellow gold is tried in fire, so the faith of friendship must be seen in adversity.
A gold watch is the most appropriate gift for retirement, as its recipients have given up so many of their golden hours in a lifetime of service.
Yellow-colored objects appear to be gold
The award of a pure gold medal for poetry would flatter the recipient unduly: no poem ever attains such carat purity.
Fire tries gold, misery tries brave men.
Tragedy is like strong acid -- it dissolves away all but the very gold of truth.
Yellow-colored objects appear to be gold.
As every thread of gold is valuable, so is every moment of time.
That is gold which is worth gold.
Though wisdom cannot be gotten with gold, still less can it be gotten without it.
Loose words are picked up like gold coin.
And all is not golden that glitters, And not all that glitters is gold.
As it would be great folly to shoe horses, as Nero did, with gold, so it is to spend time in trifles.
PALM, n. A species of tree having several varieties, of which the familiar "itching palm" (_Palma hominis_) is most widely distributed and sedulously cultivated. This noble vegetable exudes a kind of invisible gum, which may be detected by applying to the bark a piece of gold or silver. The metal will adhere with remarkable tenacity. The fruit of the itching palm is so bitter and unsatisfying that a considerable percentage of it is sometimes given away in what are known as "benefactions.
All flesh is one: what matter scores;
Or color of the suit
Or if the helmet glints with blue or gold?
All is one bold achievement,
All is fine spring-found-again-in-autumn day
When juices run in antelopes along our blood, And green our flag, forever green
There is, of course, a gold mine or a buried treasure on every mortgaged homestead. Whether the farmer ever digs for it or not, it is there, haunting his daydreams when the burden of debt is most unbearable.
Kisses are but like sands of gold and silver, found upon the ground which are not worth much themselves but as they promise a mine near too be dig'd.
Lo, the book I hold here,
In the city cold here !
I hold it with a gentle hand and love it as I may;
Lo, the weary moments!
Lo, the icy comments!
And lo, false Fortune's knife of gold swift-lifted up to slay!
Has the strife no ending?
Has the song no meaning?
Linger I, idle as of old, while men are reaping or gleaning?
Time, they say, must the best of us capture,
And travel and battle and gems and gold
No more can kindle the ancient rapture,
For even the youngest of hearts grows old.
Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson,
Yet our full-leaved willows are in the freshest green.
Such a kindly autumn, so mercifully dealing
With the growths of summer, I never yet have seen.