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Cash rules everything around me C. R. E. A. M., get the money Dollar dollar bill, y'all — Wu-Tang Clan · 1994Money is the seed of money, and the first guinea is sometimes more difficult to acquire than the second million. — Jean-Jacques Rousseau · 1755Wealth is not his that has it, but his that enjoys it. — Benjamin Franklin · 1736Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven. — Jesus · 60How much is enough? — Bud Fox · 1987The more money an American accumulates the less interesting he himself becomes. — Gore Vidal · 1972All 8 quotes →
Money3 quotes
Cash rules everything around me C. R. E. A. M., get the money Dollar dollar bill, y'all — Wu-Tang Clan · 1994Money is the seed of money, and the first guinea is sometimes more difficult to acquire than the second million. — Jean-Jacques Rousseau · 1755How much is enough? — Bud Fox · 1987
Wealth2 quotes
Wealth is not his that has it, but his that enjoys it. — Benjamin Franklin · 1736Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven. — Jesus · 60
The more money an American accumulates the less interesting he himself becomes. — Gore Vidal · 1972
Wealth is not his that has it, but his that enjoys it. — Benjamin Franklin · 1736
The withered primrose by the mourning river, The faded summer’s sun from weeping fountains, The light-blown bubble vanished for ever, The molten snow upon the naked mountains, Are emblems that the treasures we up-lay Soon wither, vanish, fade, and melt away. — Edmund Bolton · 1600
Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven. — Jesus · 60
Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven. — Jesus · 60
The withered primrose by the mourning river, The faded summer’s sun from weeping fountains, The light-blown bubble vanished for ever, The molten snow upon the naked mountains, Are emblems that the treasures we up-lay Soon wither, vanish, fade, and melt away. — Edmund Bolton · 1600
The withered primrose by the mourning river, The faded summer’s sun from weeping fountains, The light-blown bubble vanished for ever, The molten snow upon the naked mountains, Are emblems that the treasures we up-lay Soon wither, vanish, fade, and melt away. — Edmund Bolton · 1600