Quotes About Value

Cecil Graham: What is a cynic? Lord Darlington: A man who knows the price of everything, and the value of nothing. Cecil Graham: And a sentimentalist, my dear Darlington, is a man who sees an absurd value in everything and doesn't know the market price of any single thing.

The soul is a terrible reality. It can be bought and sold and bartered away.

We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely. All art is quite useless.

Cheap editions of great books may be delightful, but cheap editions of great men are absolutely detestable

Surely Love is a wonderful thing. It is more precious than emeralds, and dearer than fine opals. Pearls and pomegranates cannot buy it, nor is it set forth in the marketplace. It may not be purchased of the merchants, for can it be weighed out in the balance for gold.

What is a cynic? A man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.

Time is a waste of money.

Don't squander the gold of your days, listening to the tedious, trying to improve the hopeless failure, or giving away your life to the ignorant, the common, and the vulgar

Youth is the only thing worth having. When I find that I am growing old, I shall kill myself.

In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you

Death is a great price to pay for a red rose," cried the Nightingale, "and Life is very dear to all.  It is pleasant to sit in the green wood, and to watch the Sun in his chariot of gold, and the Moon in her chariot of pearl.  Sweet is the scent of the hawthorn, and sweet are the bluebells that hide in the valley, and the heather that blows on the hill.  Yet Love is better than Life, and what is the heart of a bird compared to the heart of a man?

As it was, we always misunderstood ourselves and rarely understood others. Experience was of no ethical value. It was merely the name men gave to their mistakes.

if he fell, well, he fell—but if he survived he would become a monument, not carved in stone or encased in brass, but one of those New York monuments that made you say: Can you believe it? With an expletive. There would always be an expletive in a New York sentence. Even from a judge. Soderberg was not fond of bad language, but he knew its value at the right time. A man on a tightrope, a hundred and ten stories in the air, can you possibly fucking believe it?

Nothing, he knew, was ever free.

Better a diamond with a flaw than a pebble without.

Worry not that no one knows you; seek to be worth knowing.

Not to discuss with a man worthy of conversation is to waste the man. To discuss with a man not worthy of conversation is to waste words. The wise waste neither men nor words.

Humankind differs from the animals only by a little and most people throw that away.

A youth is to be regarded with respect. How do we know that his future will not be equal to our present? If he reach the age of forty or fifty, and has not made himself heard of, then indeed he will not be worth being regarded with respect.

Those who understand a thing are not equal to those who are fond of it, and those who are fond of it are not equal to those who delight in it.

Orice om are nevoie de convingerea c? este un soare f?r? de care nu exist? nimic. Este important acest lucru în viaÈ›a unui om. Restul nici nu mai conteaz?. F?r? aceast? încredere, omul devine cu adev?rat o fiin?? ce poate fi trecut? cu vederea. ViaÈ›a lui este f?r? nici un folos. Ca un astru mort È™i r?t?citor, pe care nimeni nu-l cunoaÈ™te.

Grief is the stuff of life. A life without grief is no life at all. But regret is a prison. Some part of you which you deeply value lies forever impaled at a crossroads you can no longer find and never forget.

A goodlookin horse is like a goodlookin woman, he said. They're always more trouble than what they're worth. What a man needs is just one that will get the job done.

Years later he'd stood in the charred ruins of a library where blackened books lay in pools of water. Shelves tipped over. Some rage at the lies arranged in their thousands row on row. He picked up one of the books and thumbed through the heavy bloated pages. He'd not have thought the value of the smallest thing predicated on a world to come. It surprised him. That the space which these things occupied was itself an expectation.