Money, like Dung, does no Good till ’tis spread.

 

Money, like Dung, does no Good till ’tis spread.

 

Thomas Fuller (writer)

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Outside the door a group of men stood whispering while the less solemn parts of the Mass were being said. These men stared about them at the rolling country of little hills and commented on the crops, the weather, the tombstones or whatever came into their dreaming minds.
'Very weedy piece of spuds, them of Mick Finnegan's.'
'He doesn't put on the dung, Larry: the man that doesn't drive on the dung won't take out a crop.' A pause, 'Nothing like the dung.'
(p13)

 

Patrick Kavanagh

 

You can't appreciate home till you've left it, money till it's spent, your wife till she's joined a women's club, nor Old Glory till you see it hanging on a broomstick on the shanty of a consul in a foreign town.

 

O. Henry

 

Money is like muck, not good except it be spread.

 

Francis Bacon

 

To walk in money through the night crowd, protected by money, lulled by money, dulled by money, the crowd itself a money, the breath money, no least single object anywhere that is not money, money, money everywhere and still not enough, and then no money or a little money or less money or more money, but money, always money, and if you have money or you don't have money it is the money that counts and money makes money, but what makes money make money?

 

Henry Miller

 

And I rode along side
Till you lost me there
In the open road
And I rode along side
Till the honey spread
Itself so thin
For me to break your bread
For me to take your word
I had to steal it.

 

Tori Amos