Golden Goose Quotes

I wonder how many eggs are in the golden goose? ~ Todd Rundgren

(The golden goose has died, my prince turned into a frog, the Kingdom is lost, everyone has turned into stone and I am locked in the tower) ~ Nancy B. Brewer

When you sever ties with the unit purely for self-serving intentions, you are likely to find yourself stranded and struggling to survive; fighting to keep your head above water. What's more, there is no one to save you because you've turned your back on your comrades and snubbed your support system. ~ Carlos Wallace

Under no circumstance is any proverbial player ever more significant than the collective. ~ Carlos Wallace

The tide seldom shifts in favor of a selfish individual. ~ Carlos Wallace

Television is a golden goose that lays scrambled eggs; and it is futile and probably fatal to beat it for not laying caviar. Anyway, more people like scrambled eggs than caviar. ~ Lee Loevinger

Medicine is a golden goose that has to be killed because every time the goose lays a golden egg, someone gets sick or dead. ~ Richard Diaz

The goose lays the golden egg. Payrolls make consumers. ~ George M. Humphrey

When you switch your focus from the "we" to the "me", the goal from "team" to "self", you upset the balance of the whole. Consequentially, that redistribution of effort impedes success. ~ Carlos Wallace

Don't kill the golden goose. ~ Malcolm McLaren

There was the gaudy patch of sunflowers beside the west gate of the palace of the Prince of Ombria, that did nothing all day long but turn their golden-haired, thousand-eyed faces to follow the sun. ~ Patricia A. McKillip

Homer's Hymn to the Moon

Published by Mrs. Shelley, "Poetical Works", 1839, 2nd edition; dated 1818.
Daughters of Jove, whose voice is melody,
Muses, who know and rule all minstrelsy
Sing the wide-winged Moon! Around the earth,
From her immortal head in Heaven shot forth,
Far light is scattered - boundless glory springs;
Where'er she spreads her many-beaming wings
The lampless air glows round her golden crown.

But when the Moon divine from Heaven is gone
Under the sea, her beams within abide,
Till, bathing her bright limbs in Ocean's tide,
Clothing her form in garments glittering far,
And having yoked to her immortal car
The beam-invested steeds whose necks on high
Curve back, she drives to a remoter sky
A western Crescent, borne impetuously.
Then is made full the circle of her light,
And as she grows, her beams more bright and bright
Are poured from Heaven, where she is hovering then,
A wonder and a sign to mortal men.

The Son of Saturn with this glorious Power
Mingled in love and sleep - to whom she bore
Pandeia, a bright maid of beauty rare
Among the Gods, whose lives eternal are.

Hail Queen, great Moon, white-armed Divinity,
Fair-haired and favourable! thus with thee
My song beginning, by its music sweet
Shall make immortal many a glorious feat
Of demigods, with lovely lips, so well
Which minstre ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley

The more golden the memories became, so of course the loss seemed even greater. ~ Laura Wilson

My mother was a Bible student, and when I was a youngster, both my mother and father would say, 'If people would only live by the Golden Rule, there wouldn't be the problems that there are.' In other words, 'treat people the way you want to be treated.' If somebody mistreats you, two wrongs won't make a right. ~ Monte Irvin

shape about the size of a large dog hovering a few yards over his head. ~ Christie Golden

At evening the autumnal forests resound
With deadly weapons, the golden plains
And blue lakes, above them the sun
Rolls more darkly by; night enfolds
The dying warriors, the wild lament
Of their broken mouths.
But in the grassy vale the spilled blood,
Red clouds in which an angry god lives,
Gathers softly, lunar coldness;
All roads lead to black decay.
Beneath the golden boughs of night and stars
The sister's shadow reels through the silent grove
To greet the ghosts of heroes, their bleeding heads;
And the dark flutes of autumn sound softly in the reeds.
O prouder sorrow! you brazen altars
Today an immense anguish feeds the mind's hot flame,
The unborn descendants. ~ Georg Trakl

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

- The Song of Wandering Aengus ~ W.B. Yeats

Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering vapors Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descending from Sinai. ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

As Richard mounted his horse to follow, some of his Household protested that he must not wear into battle the helmet with the golden crown, for it would mark him as the prime target for the enemy. Quietly Richard replied that he would live, and die, King of England. ~ Paul Murray Kendall

Life is like a guitar and the combination of chords are called moments. Playing them is the called living the moments. ~ Vikrmn

I think that one morning, the Papess woke in her tower, and her blankets were so warm, and the sun was so golden, she could not bear it. I think she woke, and dressed, and washed her face in cold water, and rubbed her shaven head. I think she walked among her sisters, and for the first time saw that they were so beautiful, and she loved them. I think she woke up one morning of all her mornings, and found that her heart was as white as a silkworm, and the sun was clear as glass on her brow, and she believed then that she could live, and hold peace in her hand like a pearl. ~ Catherynne M Valente

Oh I'm sure you're right," Auntie said. "Probably she's just as you say. But she looks to me like a very clever girl, and adaptable; you can see that from the shape of her ears. ~ Arthur Golden

An en is a karmic bond lasting a lifetime. Nowadays many people seem to believe their lives are entirely a matter of choice; but in my day we viewed ourselves as pieces of clay that forever show the fingerprints of everyone who has touched them. ~ Arthur Golden

It was at a concert of lovely old music. After two or three notes of the piano the door was opened of a sudden to the other world. I sped through heaven and saw God at work. I suffered holy pains. I dropped all my defences and was afraid of nothing in the world. I accepted all things and to all things I gave up my heart. It did not last very long, a quarter of an hour perhaps; but it returned to me in a dream at night, and since, through all the barren days, I caught a glimpse of it now and then. Sometimes for a minute or two I saw it clearly, threading my life like a divine and golden track. But nearly always it was blurred in dirt and dust. Then again it gleamed out in golden sparks as though never to be lost again and yet was soon quite lost once more. ~ Hermann Hesse

The constant clamor of the booths and barkers served as an exhausting reminder that he had to choose a fate, and that no matter which fate he chose he could be certain that it would not be the best, that in other timelines rendered inaccessible with each spent coin, other versions of himself would be having more fun, or winning golden ribbons, or becoming taller. The thought was unbearable. ~ Dexter Palmer

And so they parted. And though the Lord of the Eagles became in after days the King of All Birds and wore a golden crown, and his fifteen chieftains golden collars (made of the gold that the dwarves gave them), Bilbo never saw them again - except high and far off in the battle of Five Armies. But as that comes in at the end of this tale we will say no more about it just now. ~ Anonymous

The golden glory of love's light Has never dawned on my way My path has always led through night To some deserted by way But though life's greatest joy I miss There lies a greater strength than this I have been worthy of it.29 ~ Colin Grant

There seems to be no end in you as your love spins round and round
so I dive into your golden heart and drink your light and sound.... ~ Sri Gawn Tu Fahr

Miss Tox sat down upon the widow-seat, and thought of her good Papa deceased - Mr. Tox, of the Customs Department of the public service; and of her childhood, passed at a seaport, among a considerable quantity of cold tar, and some rusticity. She fell into a softened remembrance of meadows, in old time, gleaming with buttercups, like so many inverted firmaments of golden stars; and how she had made chains of dandelion-stalks for youthful vowers of eternal constancy, dressed chiefly in nankeen; and how soon those fetters had withered and broken. ~ Charles Dickens

If you walk on sunlight, bathe in moonlight, breathe in a golden air and exhale a Midas' touch; mark my words, those who exist in the shadows will try to pull you into the darkness with them. The last thing that they want is for you to see the wonder of your life because they can't see theirs. ~ C. JoyBell C.

Exchanging Hats

Unfunny uncles who insist
in trying on a lady's hat,
--oh, even if the joke falls flat,
we share your slight transvestite twist

in spite of our embarrassment.
Costume and custom are complex.
The headgear of the other sex
inspires us to experiment.

Anandrous aunts, who, at the beach
with paper plates upon your laps,
keep putting on the yachtsmen's caps
with exhibitionistic screech,

the visors hanging o'er the ear
so that the golden anchors drag,
--the tides of fashion never lag.
Such caps may not be worn next year.

Or you who don the paper plate
itself, and put some grapes upon it,
or sport the Indian's feather bonnet,
--perversities may aggravate

the natural madness of the hatter.
And if the opera hats collapse
and crowns grow draughty, then, perhaps,
he thinks what might a miter matter?

Unfunny uncle, you who wore a
hat too big, or one too many,
tell us, can't you, are there any
stars inside your black fedora?

Aunt exemplary and slim,
with avernal eyes, we wonder
what slow changes they see under
their vast, shady, turned-down brim. ~ Elizabeth Bishop

[ ... ] we drank each other up with so much yearning and need that afterward I felt myself drained of all the things the Chairman had taken from me, and yet filled with all that I had taken from him. ~ Arthur Golden

I like to have a spray bottle filled with apple juice to spray onto my meat. Whether it's pork, chicken, or beef, it adds flavor. Also, it helps keep your meat a real golden mahogany-looking color and prevents it from turning black. ~ Johnny Trigg

The impulse to all movement and all form is given by [the golden ratio], since it is the proportion that summarizes in itself the additive and the geometric, or logarithmic, series. ~ Schwaller De Lubicz

Ma kept the alcohol for company in the dining room china cabinet. All the sweet after-dinner liqueurs nestle there together. But there is one bottle she never knew about right here in the kitchen. I reach deep into the cabinets and remove Dad's hidden bottle of Lagavulin. I set a tumbler on the counter and pour him two fingers of scotch. 'This is a tumbler, watch it tumble,' he said. The golden brown liquid, more gold than brown, somewhere between weak tea and apple juice. I stare at it. Nothing.
Out loud I say, "This is a tumbler, watch it tumble," an incantation or a toast or both, and drink it down.
It's like drinking a handful of matches. It burns and then smokes. I fight back a cough. There's a note of something deep and earthy, like beets or truffles, which then vanishes, leaving only a palate seared clean. ~ Jael McHenry

Hands

If I could tell the world just one thing
It would be that we're all ok
And not to worry 'cause worry is wasteful
and useless in times like these
I won't be made useless
I won't be idled with despair
I'll gather myself around my faith
for light does the darkness most fear

My hands are small, I know,
but they're not yours, they are my own
but they're not yours, they are my own
and I am never broken

Poverty stole your golden shoes
but it didn't steal your laughter
And heartache came to visit me
but i knew it wasn't ever after
We will fight, not out of spite
for someone must stand up for what's right
'cause where there's a man who has no voice
there ours shall go singing

My hands are small, I know,
but they're not yours, they are my own
but they're not yours, they are my own
and I am never broken

In the end only kindness matters
In the end only kindness matters

I will get down on my knees, and I will pray
I will get down on my knees, and I will pray
I will get down on my knees, and I will pray

My hands are small, I know,
but they're not yours they are my own
but they're not yours they are my own
and I am never broken

My hands are small, i know,
but they're not yours they are my own
but they're not yours they are my ~ Jewel

Trying something different won't ensure that you would be liked by everyone. Still.. Go on.. ~ Vikrmn

In the middle of nowhere, an old wooden bridge is a golden bridge! ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

But as I get older I think – can it really be love if we don't talk that much, don't see each other? Isn't love something that happens between people who spend time together and know each other's faults and take care of each other? In the end I decide that the mark we've left on each other is the color and shape of love. That's the unfinished business between us. Because love is never finished. It circles and circles the memories always out of order and not always complete. There's one I always come back to: me and Cameron Quick, laying on the ground in an aspen grove on a golden fall day, the aspen leaves clattering and quaking the way they do. Cameron turning to me, reaching out a small and dirty hand, which I take and do not let go. ~ Sara Zarr

I saw Byzantium in a dream and knew that I would die there.. and the golden towers of Byzantium would be my tomb ~ Aidan ~ Stephen R. Lawhead

When the golden rabbit had safely emerged out of the forbidden passage, he pondered the direction back to his lair. "How can it be I don't live where I used to live anymore? How can that be? Alright then….alright. What a strange dream…I feel as though I've been eaves dropping in tempo…but not in time!" The hare hopped off, humming passages from Miles Davis' "Kind of Blue". ~ Kevin Moccia

This whole, crazy fucking business can be reduced to one little word, one word explains it all. I'm going to give you the benefit of my experience and share that word with you, buck. It's revenge.... Them studio execs, agents, producers, they're all sweaty, unpopular, bitter little fucks, and now it's their turn. They get to make all of us golden boys and girls jump through hoops. They decide who's popular and who isn't, who's pretty and who isn't, who gets their phone calls returned and who doesn't. They make us grovel, submit, suck up to them. They're getting back at us, man. It means more to them than the money, the fame, the glamor, having power over guys like me.... It's what they live for. ~ David Handler

It's an arbitrary thing if you're born with an XX or XY chromosome, but it can determine your experience of the world. It's about whether you are physically intimidating vs. being physically intimidated. It determines whether you are the one to take an active role in sex and society. ~ Abigail Tarttelin