592 Quotes About Gold
- Author Val Uchendu
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The charm of golden sunrise and sunset does not depend on you, it reflects on you...only if you allow it. So does fleeting moments of joy
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- Author Christina Engela
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Sure. And you say hi to Dory, ‘k? C’mon Will – let’s get you to the Sheriff. I need a cold one.”“Yippee.” Said Will, not exactly brimming over with enthusiasm.Timaset Skooch reached across the table and packed the notes together. He counted them out too. Seven thousand credits! Then he scooped the coins and the (ugh) gold tooth into an empty glass for the waitress. Seven thousand credits! But what was the plastic slip under it all?
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- Author Deyth Banger
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WOw, wow... so we are the same!?...Let's stop here as moment taken from your goldy life.
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- Author Israelmore Ayivor
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Change won’t happen because everyone wishes it happens. It happens only when people decide that we’ll never stop digging until we find our gold.
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- Author Israelmore Ayivor
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You don’t have a silver spoon in your mouth. You have a golden spoon in your palms. Use it and feed yourself
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- Author Jayita Bhattacharjee
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A writer is someone who feels the feelings and journals through words from despair into dreams to create a world where every loss turns to a stepping stone every betrayal to a lesson learned and the darkness turns to the gold of morn, a writer is someone, who feels passion and trembles with words, to create the wine of soul, a writer is someone who lowers her eyelashes, yet, says her story to this world..................Jayita Bhattacharjee
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- Author Christina Engela
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He thought about it for a minute. The kitty was only around seven thousand give or take a gold tooth and some coinage – minus the ship – which must’ve been worth well, a lot more than seven thousand, even in scrap metal. An alarm was going off somewhere, faintly.
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- Author Israelmore Ayivor
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We're like goldfields. Until we dig deep to find what's inside us, our true potentials may be hidden forever.
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- Author Rupert Thomson
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He was dropped under a streetlamp, the only person left on the bus. A patch of mauled light. Gritty pavement, scarred with a million cigarette burns. Weeds and spit and oil. Place like this, the only glitter was the knife just before it sank in. Place like this, there wasn't any gold.
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