Quotes About Treasure

We need to appreciate how precious life is.

Sometimes things are fragile. That's why they're valuable.

Italy was offering her the most priceless of all possessions—her own soul.

El món realment és ple de coses precioses si saps com trobar-les.

A faithful friend is a strong defense and he that hath found such an one hath found a treasure.

The treasure shouldn't do the hunting, and you're a treasure.

Serce jest wi?cej warte, ni?li ca?e z?oto ?wiata.

"Over the MountainsOf the Moon,Down the Valley of the Shadow,Ride, boldly ride,"The shade replied—"If you seek for Eldorado!"

This book is my response to these developments: It is an appreciation of the flourishing that was the humanistic treasure of the modern era. It is also a plea to restore what has been lost and not to reject out of hand the modern values that inspired the broad prosperity of modern societies.

Books should be cherished, like children, books are for the next generation, like children, like history.

But it's all still there in my heart and soul. The walk, the hills, the sky, the solitary pain and pleasure—they will grow larger, sweeter, lovelier in the days and years to come, like a treasure found and then, voluntarily, surrendered.

Worth a guinea a box.

Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.

El oro y amores eran malos de encubrir [Gold and love affairs are difficult to hide].

Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal:But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven.

Safety isn't expensive, its priceless.

For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

Where," he asks, "is that book? The one with the birds? In the gold slipcover?

Expand your property, increase your wealth, enlarge your walls. And when each new treasure you drag inside your walls doesn't relieve your pain? Go get some more.

He scans the field. Trees, sky, hay. Darkness falling like velvet. Already a few pale stars. Marie-Laure breathes the measured breath of sleep. Everyone should behave as if he carries the real thing. The locksmith reties the stone inside the bag and slips it back into his rucksack. He can feel its tiny weight there, as though he has slipped it inside his own mind: a knot.

A fourth door, and a fifth, on and on until you reach a thirteenth, a little locked door no bigger than a shoe." The children lean forward. "And then?" "Behind the thirteenth door"—the guide flourishes one of his impossibly wrinkled hands—"is the Sea of Flames." Puzzlement. Fidgeting. "Come now. You've never heard of the Sea of Flames?

His voice is low and soft, a piece of silk you might keep in a drawer and pull out only on rare occasions, just to feel it between your fingers.

I loved the Boy with the utmost love Of which my soul is capable, And he is taken from me – Yet in the agony of my spirit In surrendering such a treasure I feel a thousand times richer Than if I had never possessed it.