Quotes About Value

Sometimes what's important is dull. Sometimes it's work. Sometimes the important things aren't works of art for your entertainment, X.

What renders a truth meaningful, worthwhile, & c. is its relevance, which in turn requires extraordinary discernment and sensitivity to context, questions of value, and overall point—otherwise we might as well all just be computers downloading raw data to one another.)

Fervent Christians are always remembering themselves as—and thus, by extension, judging everyone else outside their sect to be—lost and hopeless and just barely clinging to any kind of interior sense of value or reason to even go on living, before they were 'saved.' And

The capital-T Truth is about life BEFORE death. It is about the real value of a real education, which has almost nothing to do with knowledge, and everything to do with simple awareness; awareness of what is so real and essential, so hidden in plain sight all around us, all the time, that we have to keep reminding ourselves over and over: "This is water." "This is water.

The big thing that makes Dostoevsky invaluable for American readers and writers is that he appears to possess degrees of passion, conviction, and engagement with deep moral issues that we-here, today-cannot or do not permit ourselves.

Tiene que ver con el verdadero valor de una verdadera educación, que no pasa por las notas ni los títulos y sí en gran medida por la simple conciencia: la conciencia de algo que es tan real y tan esencial, y que está tan oculto delante mismo de nuestras narices y por todas partes, que nos vemos obligados a recordarnos a nosotros mismos una y otra vez: «Esto es agua».

Money is a social contrivance, worth something only because others will accept it in payment for real things. A dollar retains its value if prices remain stable, which is precisely what the gold standard accomplished by allowing people to convert paper dollars into gold. It prevented inflation by controlling the printing press, holding the creation of paper dollars in check, for better or worse.

If there is no God, then man and the universe are doomed. Like prisoners condemned to death, we await our unavoidable execution. There is no God, and there is no immortality. And what is the consequence of this? It means that life itself is absurd. It means that the life we have is without ultimate significance, value, or purpose.

Nothing matters in this goddamned lunatic asylum of a world but dough.

Money has only a different value in the eyes of each.

Next to excellence is the appreciation of it.

A poverty-stricken nation with a great art is a greater nation than a wealthy nation with a poverty-stricken art.

All that glisters is not gold; Often have you heard that told: Many a man his life hath sold But my outside to behold: Gilded tombs do worms enfold.

Thine face is not worth sunburning.

What win I, if I gain the thing I seek? A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy. Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week? Or sells eternity to get a toy? For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy? Or what fond beggar, but to touch the crown, Would with the sceptre straight be strucken down?

You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will more willingly part withal: except my life, except my life, except my life.

For it falls out That what we have we prize not to the worth Whiles we enjoy it, but being lacked and lost, Why, then we rack the value, then we find The virtue that possession would not show us While it was ours.

He that is strucken blind can not forget the precious treasure of his eyesight lost.

Your cause of sorrow must not be measured by his worth, for then it hath no end.

My dear dear lord, The purest treasure mortal times afford Is spotless reputation: that away, Men are but gilded loam or painted clay. A jewel in a ten-times-barr'd-up chest Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast. Mine honour is my life; both grow in one: Take honour from me, and my life is done: Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try; In that I live and for that will I die.

What win I if I gain the thing I seek? A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy. Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week? Or sells eternity to get a toy?

The art of our necessities is strange That can make vile things precious.

You are not worth the dust which the rude wind blows in your face

What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour? what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no.