Quotes About Midas

Out with it, Dunciad: let the secret pass - That secret to each fool - that he's an ass. The truth once told (and whereby should we lie?), The queen of Midas slept, and so may I. You think this cruel? Take it for a rule, No creature smarts so little as a fool.

We have a Midas problem. There's no endgame, just a stagnant pyramiding scheme. Endless, pointless prosperity.

That's why we live by a river. Occasionally, I forget and pat Lit on the back--' 'I hate that.' King Midas & Lit

Story of my life: I am so self-destructive, I turn solutions into problems. Everything I touch, I ruin. I'm Midas in reverse.

Close not thy hand upon the innocent joy That trusts itself within thy reach. It may Or may not linger. Thou canst but destroy The wingèd wanderer. Let it go or stay. Love thou the rose, yet leave it on its stem. Think! Midas starved by turning all to gold.

Jackie Rodowsky's private BSC nickname is the Walking Disaster. Abby says he has the Sadim touch. Sadim is Midas backward. Everything he touches turns into an accident.

This is the real meaning of the myth of Midas. It wasn't just that the king might starve to death through blind greed. It was that everything he touched lost its incomparable properties and turned into cold, hard cash.

Midas, they say, possessed the art of old Of turning whatsoe'er he touch'd to gold; This modern statesmen can reverse with ease — Touch them with gold, they'll turn to what you please.

DNA, you know, is Midas' gold. Everyone who touches it goes mad

Like Midas, the Rationalist is always in the unfortunate position of not being able to touch anything, without transforming it into an abstraction; he can never get a square meal of experience.

There are too many King Midases loose in the world. They do not have the Midas touch: they have the Midas look. They see nothing but money.... The universe, to them, is a balance-sheet: their minds are adding-machines: their hearts beat in tune with the ticker.

The other story about Midas is that he was called upon to judge between the music of Pan and Apollo and found in favour of Pan. Apollo, understandably annoyed (he was, after all, god of music, whereas Pan was merely god of shepherds and tootled on the odd pipe in his spare time), punished Midas by making a pair of ass's ears sprout from his head.

This guy was beyond lucky. He was Midas with a better attorney, or the owner of a Monkey's Paw version 2.0, or Richard Cory on Prozac.

Legendary King Midas never knew the feel of silk or a human hand after everything he touched turned to gold. Humans are stuck in a similar Midas-like predicament: we can't directly experience the true texture of quantum reality because everything we touch turns to matter.

Legendary King Midas never knew the feel of silk or a human hand after everything he touched turned to gold. Humans are stuck in a similar Midas-like predicament: we can't directly experience the true texture of reality because everything we touch turns to matter.

King Midas sprang up and ran to the river. He plunged into it, and then he dipped up a pitcher of its water and hurried back to the palace. He sprinkled it over Marygold, and the color came back into her cheeks. She opened her blue eyes again. "Why, Father!" she said. "What happened?" With a cry of joy King Midas took her into his arms. Never after that did King Midas care for any gold except the gold of the sunshine, and the gold of little Marygold's hair.

He who strives for wealth only to possess it is a heartless fool, and his fate will be that of Midas—he will starve in the midst of his treasures. But he who strives for wealth for the purpose of giving, he will discover that money is the fountain of happiness; and in his hands the dead metal is transformed into a living blessing.

Like Midas, the Rationalist is always in the unfortunate position of not being able to touch anything, without transforming it into an abstraction; he can never get a square meal of experience.