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Alexander Pope
Alas! the small discredit of a bribe Scarce hurts the lawyer, but undoes the scribe.
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Alexander Pope
Judges and senates have been bought for gold; Esteem and love were never to be sold.
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Chinese Proverb
If your strength is small, don't carry heavy burdens. If your words are worthless, don't give advice.
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Demosthenes
A hoarseness caused by swallowing gold and silver.
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Lord Byron George Gordon Noel Byron
Tis pleasant purchasing our fellow-creatures; And all are to be sold, if you consider Their passions, and are dext'rous; some by features Are brought up, others by a warlike leader; Some by a place--as tend their years or natures; The most by ready cash--but all have prices, From crowns to kicks, according to their vices.
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Miss Susanna Blamire
And ye sall walk in silk attire, And siller hae to spare, Gin ye'll consent to be his bride, Nor think o'Donald mair.
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Samuel Johnson
But here more slow, where all are slaves to gold, Where looks are merchandise, and smiles are sold.
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Samuel Johnson
Our supple tribes repress their patriot throats, And ask no questions but the price of votes.
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Sextus Propertius
By gold all good faith has been banished; by gold our rights are abused; the law itself is influenced by gold, and soon there will be an end of every modest restraint. Lat., Auro pulsa fides. auro venalia jura, Aurum lex sequitur, mox sine lege pudor.
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Sir Walter Raleigh
No mortal thing can bear so high a price, But that with mortal thing it may be bought.
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Thomas Gray
Too poor for a bribe, and too proud to importune, He had not the method of making a fortune.
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William Shakespeare
Tis gold Which buys admittance--oft it doth--yea, and makes Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up This deer to th' stand o' th' stealer: and 'tis gold Which makes the true man kill'd and saves the thief, Nay, sometimes hangs both thief and true man.
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William Shakespeare
What, shall one of us, That struck for the foremost man of all this world But for supporting robbers--shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honors For so much trash as may be grasped thus?
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William Shakespeare
There is thy gold--worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murder in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell. I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none Farewell. Buy food and get thyself in flesh.
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