Gold Jewelry Quotes

It's not what you have on the outside that glitters in light, it's what you have on the inside that shines in the dark.

We passed hieroglyphic scrolls, gold jewelry, sarcophagi, statues of pharaohs, and huge chunks of limestone. Why would someone display a rock? Aren't there enough of those in the world?

Well, I always tried to look nice and be feminine even in the worst tragedies and crisis, there's no reason to add to everyone's misery by looking miserable yourself. That's my philosophy. This is why I always wore makeup and jewelry into the jungle-nothing too extravagant, but maybe just a nice gold bracelet and some earrings, a little lipstick, good perfume. Just enough to show that I still had my self-respect.

Richard...," Julie said, staring down at the open jewelry case in her hand. Inside was an ornate, heart-shaped locket supported by a gold chain. "It's beautiful. But... why? I mean, what's the occasion?" "No occasion. I just saw it and, well... I liked it. Or rather, I thought of you and knew you should have it.

Ol' man Simon, planted a diamond. Grew hisself a garden the likes of none. Sprouts all growin' comin' up glowin' Fruit of jewels all shinin' in the sun. Colors of the rainbow. See the sun and the rain grow sapphires and rubies on ivory vines, Grapes of jade, just ripenin' in the shade, just ready for the squeezin' into green jade wine. Pure gold corn there, Blowin' in the warm air. Ol' crow nibblin' on the amnythyst seeds. In between the diamonds, Ol' man Simon crawls about pullin' out platinum weeds. Pink pearl berries, all you can carry, put 'em in a bushel and haul 'em into town. Up in the tree there's opal nuts and gold pears- Hurry quick, grab a stick and shake some down. Take a silver tater, emerald tomater, fresh plump coral melons. Hangin' in reach. Ol' man Simon, diggin' in his diamonds, stops and rests and dreams about one... real... peach.

It is not fancy hair, gold jewelry, or fine clothes that should make you beautiful. No, your beauty should come from within you - the beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit. This beauty will never disappear, and it is worth very much to God. Peter 3:3-4

And Ren cracked open a jewelry box. Two strands of tiny beads wound around each other in gold and blue. Small diamond and sapphire flowers ran down the length of the chain and in the center hung a diamond lotus flower with a ruby center. I pressed trembling fingertips to my lips as I recognized Kishan's ring reworked into a new form....... I turned back to him and as he touched the beads along the edge, he spoke quietly, "Gold and blue tiger's eyes to remember what was found." His finger trailed down to the lotus ruby in the center. "A diamond lotus and red ruby to remember what was lost". He slid two fingers up the length of the chain over the dozens of tiny blue flowers. "And sapphire flowers that symbolize what will be.

Lassiter skidded in from the billiards room, the fallen angel glowing from his black-and-blond hair and white eyes, all the way down to his shitkickers. Then again, maybe the illumination wasn’t his nature, but that gold he insisted on wearing. He looked like a living, breathing jewelry tree. “I’m here. Where’s my chauffeur hat?” “Here, use mine,” Butch said, outing a B Sox cap and throwing it over. “It’ll help that hair of yours.” The angel caught the thing on the fly and stared at the red S. “I’m sorry, I can’t.” “Do not tell me you’re a Yankees fan,” V drawled. “I’ll have to kill you, and frankly, tonight we need all the wingmen we’ve got.” Lassiter tossed the cap back. Whistled. Looked casual. “Are you serious?” Butch said. Like the guy had maybe volunteered for a lobotomy. Or a limb amputation. Or a pedicure. “No fucking way,” V echoed. “When and where did you become a friend of the enemy—” The angel held up his palms. “It’s not my fault you guys suck—” Tohr actually stepped in front of Lassiter, like he was worried that something a lot more than smack talk was going to start flying. And the sad thing was, he was right to be concerned. Apart from their shellans, V and Butch loved the Sox above almost everything else—including sanity.

Women had little security other than jewelry, so even the poorest among us sported gold chains, earrings, and rings as their insurance.

Ghel the gold horned unicorn is empathic and can sense the emotions of other unicorns. A touch of her horn on another’s heart make them feel better.  Gold has many every day uses but 80% of newly mined or recycled gold is still used in jewelry manufacture.

In Indian culture, the woman of the house — the embodiment of the family’s honor — treasures her gold jewelry both as her soundest asset and as the symbol of her status.

The best part of such noble liquor,   No less than gold and jewelry,   By preference dwells in night and gloom.   The wise man searches tirelessly; 5200 To see by daylight, that’s child’s play,   But where it’s dark, there mysteries have their home.

Guns, gold, jewelry, and DVDs,” Barack said, reading the window signage. “The story of America. All that’s missing are the Bibles.

What’s the best practical joke you’ve ever played on another camper? Connor: The golden mango! Travis: Oh, dude, that was awesome. Connor: So anyway, we took this mango and spray painted it gold, right? We wrote: “For the hottest” on it and left it in the Aphrodite cabin while they were at archery class. When they came back, they started fighting over it, trying to figure out which of them was the hottest. It was so funny. Travis: Gucci shoes were flying out the windows. The Aphrodite kids were ripping each other’s clothes and throwing lipstick and jewelry. It was like a rabid herd of wild Bratz. Connor: Then they figured out what we’d done, and they tracked us down. Travis: That was not cool. I didn’t know they made permanent makeup. I looked like a clown for a month. Connor: Yeah. They put a curse on me so that no matter what I wore, my clothes were two sizes too small and I felt like a geek. Travis: You are a geek.

A rat in its stealing behavior may manage to steal gold jewelry and to make a nest with it but that does not in anyway qualify the rat to be a millionaire though it's gold pieces be worth that much.

22but each woman shall ask of her neighbor, and any woman who lives in her house, for  gsilver and gold jewelry, and for clothing. You shall put them on your sons and on your daughters. So  hyou shall plunder the Egyptians.

Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit. (1 Peter 3:3–4)

They walked in silence through the little streets of Chinatown. Women from all over the world smiled at them from open windows, stood on the doorsteps inviting them in. Some of the rooms were exposed to the street. Only a curtain concealed the beds. One could see couples embracing. There were Syrian women wearing their native costume, Arabian women with jewelry covering their half-naked bodies, Japanese and Chinese women beckoning slyly, big African women squatting in circles, chatting together. One house was filled with French whores wearing short pink chemises and knitting and sewing as if they were at home. They always hailed the passers-by with promises of specialities. The houses were small, dimly lit, dusty, foggy with smoke, filled with dusky voices, the murmurs of drunkards, of lovemaking. The Chinese adorned the setting and made it more confused with screens and curtains, lanterns, burning incense, Buddhas of gold. It was a maze of jewels, paper flowers, silk hangings, and rugs, with women as varied as the designs and colors, inviting men who passed by to sleep with them.

Behind those doors was, in a stunning anticlimax, another set of doors, which slid open. A lift. They descended for many floors, until it was clear that they were several stories beneath the ground. Neither of them said anything, but Myfanwy took the opportunity to eye her secretary in the mirrored walls. Ingrid was tall, in her late forties, and her auburn hair was immaculately coiffed. She was slim and fit-looking, as if she spent every afternoon playing tennis. She wore a few pieces of discreet gold jewelry, including a wedding ring. Myfanwy breathed in gently through her nose and smelled Ingrid’s good perfume. The business suit she wore was of a light purple, and exquisitely cut.

The rings are a nice touch, though. I don’t know how Roman managed to find the wedding rings so fast. He probably went to a jewelry store while I was waiting with Vova and Dimitri in the car. I also got a second ring—a thick white gold band with a pale rock in the middle, which I suppose will pose as an engagement ring. It’s probably fake, because the real deal would cost a fortune. I like it anyway.

Amadora was never far from her understanding of women, glamour, or the fine line between elegant and camp, vulgar and vibrant, life and dreams. ... Color, she believed, was feminine. She said that women were masters of color, evidenced in changing their hair color, using eye shadow, mascara, powder, rouge, lipstick. You could see it in their jewelry- silvers and golds, gems, stones, pearls of every hue. It was in their clothing, from what they slept in to what they danced in. Their shoes. Their purses. Ribbons, barrettes, clips, and tiaras. Veils. All this color to enhance their sex appeal, while men, she felt, were ill-equipped to handle color with the same ease.

The Funniest Thing I See Everyday on Hello Poetry © Come on, get real! Who the fuck's going to steal ya' shit? Like some crackheads are going to break into your house and say, 'Hey esse, let's leave the plasma TV and gold jewelry. This fucking manuscript rhymes!' O.K., some of my shit is worth stealing This is my official New Yawk copyright symbol: ლ(©ー©ლ) It means ~ 'Eh, don't even fucking thinkabodit!' (Now, my symbol may actually fucking work. For reals, yo'!)

You might not think to wear pink socks with gold stretch pants, and then add a gold turtleneck under a pink sweater. But that’s what I did yesterday, and then I added blue jewelry. It was great! I looked like a human sunset. The outfit made me very happy.)

Tate gave me your birthday present when you were here before,” she confessed. “I put it on top of the cabinet in the dining room and forgot to give it to you. Here, I’ll fetch it!” Cecily felt as if she’d had the wind knocked out of her just at the sound of his name. She could almost taste him on her mouth, feel the fierce hunger of his body as he pressed her into the wall… “He remembered my birthday,” she said faintly, touched. “He always remembers it, but he said you weren’t speaking then.” She handed the small box to Cecily. “Go on,” she said when the younger woman hesitated. “Open it.” Cecily’s hands went cold and trembled as she tore off the wrappings. It was a jewelry box. I wasn’t a ring, of course, she told herself as she forced up the hinged lid. He certainly wouldn’t buy her a… “The beast!” she exclaimed. “Oh, how could he?” Leta looked over her shoulder at what was in the box and dissolved into gales of laughter. Cecily glared at her. “It isn’t funny.” “Oh, yes it is!” Cecily looked back down at the silver crab with its ruby eyes and pearl claws, and one corner of her mouth tugged up. “He is pretty, isn’t he?” She took the pin out of the box and studied it. It wasn’t silver. It was white gold. Those were real rubies and pearls, too. This hadn’t been an impulse purchase. He’d had this custom-made for her. Tears stung her eyes. It was the sort of present you gave to someone who meant something to you. She remembered his passionate kisses, and wished with all her heart that he’d meant those, too. She pinned the small crab onto the collar of her blouse and knew that she’d treasure it as long as she lived.

they had not yet been destroyed as Africans completely. Slavery was the curse of their existence; but they had not been robbed yet of that which had been characteristically theirs. They tolerated the baptism and modest garments imposed on them by the French Catholic laws; but in the evenings, they made their cheap fabrics into alluring costumes, made jewelry of animal bones and bits of discarded metal which they polished to look like gold; and the slave cabins of Pointe du Lac were a foreign country, an African coast after dark, in which not even the coldest overseer would want to wander.

Her scales were a deep, dark green, and textured, like a jeweled avocado rind, and they covered most of her, except the short, stubby horns on her head, which were a dull gold, like dirty jewelry. Two enormous wings, angular and with pointed tips like a bat’s, stuck out from her sides and propelled them through the air. Beyond Riv at the back of the dragon, the queen caught glimpses of a powerfully muscled tail.

That night Serena dressed to meet Zahi. She used a metallic green eye shadow on the top lids and the outer half of the bottom lids so that her eyes looked like a jungle cat's. Two coats of black mascara completed them, and then she smudged a light gold gloss on her lips. She took a red skirt from the closet. The material was snakelike, shimmering black, then red. She slipped it on and tied the black strings of a matching bib halter around her neck and waist. She painted red-and-black glittering flames on her legs and rubbed glossy shine on her arms and chest. Finally, she took the necklace she had bought at the garage sale and fixed it in her hairline like the headache bands worn by flappers back in the 1920's. The jewels hung on her forehead, making her look like an exotic maharani. She sat at her dressing table and painted her toenails and fingernails gold, then looked in the mirror. A thrill jolted through her as it always did. No matter how many times she saw her reflection after the transformation, her image always astonished her. She looked supernatural, a spectral creature, green eyes large, skin glowing, eyelashes longer, thicker. Everything about her was more forceful and elegant- an enchantress goddess. She couldn't pull away from her reflection. It was as if the warrior in her had claimed the night.

I’ve seen what is interred with them so that they can get through the journey into the realm of the dead, and no doubt also so that they can buy their way in, gold, jewelry, food, even horses, sometimes servants as well; since then, I can see this whole glorious Corinth only as the fleeting reflection of that eternal necropolis, and it seems to me that they reign here too, the dead. Or what reigns is the fear of death. And I ask myself whether I shouldn’t have stayed in Colchis.

The favourites of James I wore ear-rings of emeralds set in gold filigrane. Edward II gave to Piers Gaveston a suit of red-gold armour studded with jacinths, a collar of gold roses set with turquoise-stones, and a skull-cap parsemé with pearls. Henry II. wore jewelled gloves reaching to the elbow, and had a hawk-glove sewn with twelve rubies and fifty-two great orients. The ducal hat of Charles the Rash, the last Duke of Burgundy of his race, was hung with pear-shaped pearls and studded with sapphires.

Indoors or out, women must make their beauty glitter because they are so hard for men to see. They glitter as a bid for attention that is otherwise grudgingly given. Catching light draws the eye in a basic unsubtle reflex: Babies’ undeveloped eyes follow glittering objects. It is the one way in which women are allowed to shout in order to command attention. Men who glitter, on the other hand, are either low-status or not real men: gold teeth, flashy jewelry; ice skaters, Liberace. Real men are matte. Their surfaces must not distract attention from what it is they are saying. But women of every status glint. Dale Spender, in Man Made Language, shows that when in conversation, men cut off women in most of the interruptions by far and that men give women’s words only intermittent attention. So pyrotechnics of light and color must accompany women’s speech in order to beguile an attention span that wanders when women open their mouths. What women look like is considered important because what we say is not.

Once again, it's a beautiful day to be a pirate," Auburn Sally said to her crew. "Ladies, lower the sales!" The twins looked up, expecting the sails above them to comedown and fill with the ocean air. Instead, Siren Sue peeked out of the crow's nest with a treasure chest full of scarves, jewelry, hooks, and weapons. The other pirates gathered below her with hands full of gold coins. "You heard the captain - time to lower the sales!" Siren Sue announced. "For a limited time, everything is half off!" Scarves are two coins, earring are four coins, necklaces are six coins, and the rifles are eight coins! Get your accessories while the sales are low!" Siren Sue sold off the items to the pirates below until there was nothing left in her chest. The women ogled their new purchases and showed them off to one another. It absolutely baffled Alex, and when she glanced at Conner, he looked just as confused as she did. "I don't understand what's happening," he said. "I never wrote that." "Did you mean to write lower the sails?" Like the normal sails on a ship?" Alex said. "Oops," Conner said. "I must have spelled it wrong." To his relief, once the sales were over, the pirates lowered the sails, too.

Ivette dug into my wooden jewelry box and pulled out a gold chain with a white daisy on it. "Well this just screams out 'I'm a little girl,' so forget this one." Next, she picked out a silver necklace with a small cross. "Oh, no, we can't make you holy and untouchable. You'll never get your first kiss that way." I blushed and nervously started to giggle. "Can you picture it?" She draped the chain around her neck and swayed to imaginary music. "Hi, Manuel. Oh, of course I'd like to dance, but be careful if you hold me too close, because not only is my mother chaperoning, God is watching and you'll be sent straight to hell." Ivette couldn't hold back her laughter. "No, this is definitely not the right necklace!

The U.S. government stepped in during economic crises all the time. Less than five years earlier, the United States had used billions of dollars of taxpayer money to bail out Wall Street banks during the 2008 financial crisis. During the Great Depression the government had prohibited U.S. citizens from owning gold: in 1933, President Roosevelt had signed executive order 6102, requiring citizens to turn in their gold for cash. It wasn’t until 1975, when President Ford repealed this order, that it was again legal for Americans to own gold that wasn’t jewelry or coins. And all bank deposits were only insured to the tune of $250,000. “More than twenty thousand account holders at Laika, the second largest bank in Cyprus, are going to have half of their savings taken away,

Cortés in his own way helped keep the countryside stirred up by demanding that all of the available gold in the area be brought to Tenochtitlán as tribute. With this tribute, and with other treasure that had belonged to Moctezuma’s father, the Spaniards were kept busy for days just assessing the value of their loot. The small pieces removed from Aztec jewelry alone were valued at 600,000 pesos. Goldsmiths were brought in from a nearby town, and they smelted the gold into slabs. The Spaniards were unable to weigh the treasure accurately, and Cortés suggested that no one take his share until it could be divided more equitably. But the captains and the soldiers had come too far and fought too hard to be put off. They demanded a division of the spoils, and Cortés had to consent.

Their degeneration was even more rapid than their rise. Astyages, who succeeded his father Cyaxares, proved again that monarchy is a gamble, in whose royal succession great wits and madness are near allied. He inherited the kingdom with equanimity, and settled down to enjoy it. Under his example the nation forgot its stern morals and stoic ways; wealth had come too suddenly to be wisely used. The upper classes became the slaves of fashion and luxury, the men wore embroidered trousers, the women covered themselves with cosmetics and jewelry, the very horses were often caparisoned in gold.7 These once simple and pastoral people, who had been glad to be carried in rude wagons with wheels cut roughly out of the trunks of trees,8 now rode in expensive chariots from feast to feast.

Sumptuary laws were passed by the Senate limiting expenditure on banquets and clothing, but as the senators ignored these regulations, no one bothered to observe them. “The citizens,” Cato mourned, “no longer listen to good advice, for the belly has no ears.”9 The individual became rebelliously conscious of himself as against the state, the son as against the father, the woman as against the man. Usually the power of woman rises with the wealth of a society, for when the stomach is satisfied hunger leaves the field to love. Prostitution flourished. Homosexualism was stimulated by contact with Greece and Asia; many rich men paid a talent ($3600) for a male favorite; Cato complained that a pretty boy cost more than a farm.10 But women did not yield the field to these Greek and Syrian invaders. They took eagerly to all those supports of beauty that wealth now put within their reach. Cosmetics became a necessity, and caustic soap imported from Gaul tinged graying hair into auburn locks.11 The rich bourgeois took pride in adorning his wife and daughter with costly clothing or jewelry and made them the town criers of his prosperity. Even in government the role of women grew. Cato cried out that “all other men rule over women; but we Romans, who rule all men, are ruled by our women.”12 In 195 B.C.. the free women of Rome swept into the Forum and demanded the repeal of the Oppian Law of 215, which had forbidden women to use gold ornaments, varicolored dresses, or chariots. Cato predicted the ruin of Rome if the law should be repealed. Livy puts into his mouth a speech that every generation has heard:

You don't wear jewelry, do you? Besides your wedding ring, I mean?' 'Now often. If is not that I disapprove. I simply don't take the time to bother with it. I've been given a few trinkets over the years, but rarely wear them.' Thora looked down at her hand, the plain thin wedding band, the unadorned wrist, and a memory struck her. She said, 'Frank gave me a gift once - a find gold bracelet with a blue enamel heart dangling from it. He said it was to remind me that I was more than his helpmeet and housekeeper, but also an attractive woman. I was sure I'd break the delicate chain, and the heart clacked against the desk whenever I wrote in the ledger. So I put it back in its box, and there it has remained ever since.' Nan said gently, 'We've all been given gifts, Thors, and ought not to hide them away. They remind us that we are blessed and loved. They give pleasure to those who see them - especially to the one who bestowed the gift in the first place.

The underlying assumption of this system is that wealth, leisure, comfort, health, and a long life belonged by right only to the dominant minority; while hard work and constant deprivation and denial, a 'slaves' diet and an early death, became the lot of the mass of men. Once this division was established, is it any wonder that the dreams of the working classes throughout history, at least in those relatively happy periods when they dared to tell each other fairy stories, was a desire for idle days and for a surfeit of material goods? These desires were kept from an explosive eruption, perhaps, by the institution of occasional feasts and carnivals. But the dreams of an existence which counterfeited closely that of the ruling classes, as the brummagen jewelry worn by the poor in Victorian England imitated in brass the gold baubles of the upper classes, have remained alive from age to age: indeed they are still an active ingredient in the fantasy of effortless affluence that currently hovers like a pink smog over Megalopolis.

Disney now unofficially tolerates hundreds of small online shops run by die-hard fans selling T-shirts, buttons, pins, patches, jewelry, and thousands more items that leverage Disney characters. These stores don’t pay Disney a dime in licensing fees. Why the pivot to tolerating knockoffs? Because Disney learned that fan-made, unlicensed twenty-five-dollar T-shirts drive their wearers to Disney parks, where they buy expensive entrance tickets and pass the day spending even more money. Another reason for Disney’s newfound tolerance: it has discovered the marketing research value from the hundreds of small knockoff shops. These shops turn out to be a vibrant source of ideas for new official Disney merchandise. In 2016 the online vendor Bibbidi Bobbidi Brooke came out with a hugely popular line of rose-gold sequined Mickey ears, something that had not occurred to the Disney licensors. So Disney copied the design, which sold out immediately in its official stores. Bibbidi Bobbidi Brooke was gracious, posting “always excited to see new merch offerings.” Her fans replied, “Yours will always be the original!!!” Everyone wins.

Spearing a quail egg with her fork, Evie popped it into her mouth. “What is to be done about Mr. Egan?” His shoulders lifted in a graceful shrug. “As soon as he is sober enough to walk, he’ll be dismissed.” Evie brushed away a stray lock of hair that had fallen over her cheek. “There is no one to replace him.” “Yes, there is. Until a suitable manager can be found, I’ll run the club.” The quail egg seemed to stick in her throat, and Evie choked a little. Hastily she reached for her wine, washed it down, and regarded him with bulging eyes. How could he say something so preposterous? “You can’t.” “I can hardly do worse than Egan. He hasn’t managed a damned thing in months… before long, this place will be falling down around our ears.” “You said you hated work!” “So I did. But I feel that I should try it at least once, just to be certain.” She began to stammer in her anxiety. “You’ll pl-play at this for a few days, and then you’ll tire of it.” “I can’t afford to tire of it, my love. Although the club is still profitable, its value is in decline. Your father has a load of outstanding debt that must be settled. If the people who owe him can’t muster the cash, we’ll have to take property, jewelry, artwork… whatever they can manage. Having a good idea of the value of things, I can negotiate some acceptable settlements. And there are other problems I haven’t yet mentioned… Jenner has a string of failing Thoroughbreds that have lost a fortune at Newmarket. And he’s made some insane investments— ten thousand pounds he put into an alleged gold mine in Flintshire— a swindle that even a child should have seen through.” “Oh God,” Evie murmured, rubbing her forehead. “He’s been ill— people have taken advantage—” “Yes. And now, even if we wanted to sell the club, we couldn’t without first putting it in order. If there were an alternative, believe me, I would find it. But this place is a sieve, with no one who is capable or willing to stop the holes. Except for me.” “You know nothing about filling holes!” she cried, appalled by his arrogance. Sebastian responded with a bland smile and the slightest arch of one brow. Before he could open his mouth to reply, she clapped her hands over her ears. "Oh, don't say it, don't!" When she saw that he was obligingly holding his silence-though a devilish gleam remained in his eyes-she lowered her hands cautiously.

Grace adored Amelia. The older woman was a close friend of her grandmother and mother, and a constant in Grace's life. She visited Amelia often. The inn was her second home. As a child she'd always raced up the stairs and raided Amelia's bedroom closet, and Amelia had encouraged her unconventional behavior. Grace had loved dressing up in vintage clothing. Attempting to walk up in a pair of high button shoes. Amelia was the first to recognize Grace's love of costume. Her enjoyment of tea parties. She'd supported Grace's dream of opening her business, Charade, when Grace sought a career. From birthdays to holidays, the costume shop was popular and successful. Grace couldn't have been happier. She admired Amelia now. Her long, braided hair was the same soft gray as her eyes. Years accumulated, but never seemed to touch her. She appeared youthful, ageless, in a sage-green tunic, belted over a paisley gauze skirt in shades of cranberry, green, and gold. Elaborate gold hoops hung at her ears, ones designed with silver beads and tiny gold bells. The thin metal chains on her three-tiered necklace sparkled with lavender rhinestones and reflective mirror discs. Bangles of charms looped her wrist. A thick, hammered-silver bracelet curved near her right elbow. A triple gold ring with three pearls arched from her index finger to her fourth. She sparkled.

May God’s people never eat rabbit or pork (Lev. 11:6–7)? May a man never have sex with his wife during her monthly period (Lev. 18:19) or wear clothes woven of two kinds of materials (Lev. 19:19)? Should Christians never wear tattoos (Lev. 19:28)? Should those who blaspheme God’s name be stoned to death (Lev. 24:10–24)? Ought Christians to hate those who hate God (Ps. 139:21–22)? Ought believers to praise God with tambourines, cymbals, and dancing (Ps. 150:4–5)? Should Christians encourage the suffering and poor to drink beer and wine in order to forget their misery (Prov. 31:6–7)? Should parents punish their children with rods in order to save their souls from death (Prov. 23:13–14)? Does much wisdom really bring much sorrow and more knowledge more grief (Eccles. 1:18)? Will becoming highly righteous and wise destroy us (Eccles. 7:16)? Is everything really meaningless (Eccles. 12:8)? May Christians never swear oaths (Matt. 5:33–37)? Should we never call anyone on earth “father” (Matt. 23:9)? Should Christ’s followers wear sandals when they evangelize but bring no food or money or extra clothes (Mark 6:8–9)? Should Christians be exorcising demons, handling snakes, and drinking deadly poison (Mark 16:15–18)? Are people who divorce their spouses and remarry always committing adultery (Luke 16:18)? Ought Christians to share their material goods in common (Acts 2:44–45)? Ought church leaders to always meet in council to issue definitive decisions on matters in dispute (Acts 15:1–29)? Is homosexuality always a sin unworthy of the kingdom of God (1 Cor. 6:9–10)? Should unmarried men not look for wives (1 Cor. 7:27) and married men live as if they had no wives (1 Cor. 7:29)? Is it wrong for men to cover their heads (1 Cor. 11:4) or a disgrace of nature for men to wear long hair (1 Cor. 11:14)? Should Christians save and collect money to send to believers in Jerusalem (1 Cor. 16:1–4)? Should Christians definitely sing psalms in church (Col. 3:16)? Must Christians always lead quiet lives in which they work with their hands (1 Thess. 4:11)? If a person will not work, should they not be allowed to eat (2 Thess. 3:10)? Ought all Christian slaves always simply submit to their masters (reminder: slavery still exists today) (1 Pet. 2:18–21)? Must Christian women not wear braided hair, gold jewelry, and fine clothes (1 Tim. 2:9; 1 Pet. 3:3)? Ought all Christian men to lift up their hands when they pray (1 Tim. 2:8)? Should churches not provide material help to widows who are younger than sixty years old (1 Tim. 5:9)? Will every believer who lives a godly life in Christ be persecuted (2 Tim. 3:12)? Should the church anoint the sick with oil for their healing (James 5:14–15)? The list of such questions could be extended.

If you give me the name of the contraceptive shot you had, I will source for more of them. I am keen that nothing interrupts our enjoyment of each other.” His tone indicated the understatement of the millennium. “It’s called Depo-Provera. It’s supposed to last three months or so, and Paul has a few more doses.” When he’d injected me, I’d said, “The idea of living another three months feels far-fetched right now.” He’d replied, “Better safe than sorry, huh?” Aric nodded. “I will be on the lookout for it.” Aric raised a brow at that. Then, seeming to make a decision, he eased me aside to get out of the bed. “I have something for you.” As he strode to our closet, I gawked at the sight of his flawless body. The return view was even more rewarding. He sat beside me and handed me a small jewelry box. “I want you to have this.” I opened the box, finding a gorgeous gold ring, engraved with runes that called to mind his tattoos. An oval of amber adorned the band. Beautiful. The warm color reminded me of his eyes whenever he was pleased. “My homeland was famous for amber—from pine.” He slipped the ring on my finger, and it fit perfectly. Holding my gaze, he said, “We are wed now.” First priest I find, I’m goan to marry you. Jack’s words. I recalled the love blazing from his gray gaze before I stifled the memory. “Aric, th-this is so beautiful. Thank you.” The symbol of his parents’ marriage had been derived from trees. Another waypoint.

The wedding of David and Michal was a glorious affair. Though Saul was normally stingy with his money, he was not so with his daughters. Michal had started the day with a bath followed by a bodily anointing of oil. She wore a linen and silk dress with embroidered cloth of Phoenician purple. Her hair was brushed to a soft perfection and placed beneath her Tyrian style crown of gold. She was bedecked with gold and silver jewelry from Egypt. Bracelets, necklaces, ear coverings and a ring on her nose. She walked through the Gibeah streets in fine calf leather sandals, surrounded by a cadre of dozens of virgin bridesmaid companions dressed in white linen. A band of minstrels led her with rejoicing on tambourine, flute, and lyre. She felt like a queen. She would be a queen one day. She knew that she was marrying the mightiest warrior in all of Israel. The gibborim who had killed the giant Rephaim Philistine, who her own father, the anointed warrior king, could not conquer. All she could think of the entire journey to the palace were the lyrics she first heard her from the lips of her bridegroom upon their first acquaintance. She had never forgot them. They were burned into her heart. He had sung a song of virginal submission to a manly king as a sample of his musical talent to her father. But she knew he had sung those words for her. She knew by the look in his eyes, his unquenchable stare of desire for her. It was like a prophecy. Now those words were coming true, she was going to be living them out any moment. Hear, O daughter, and consider, and incline your ear: forget your people and your father’s house, and the king will desire your beauty. Since he is your lord, bow to him. The people of Israel lined the streets and cheered their beautiful princess as she approached the entranceway to the palace. She could feel her heart pounding out of her chest. Would he sing to her on their wedding night? Would he seduce her with his musical talent before he ravished her? All glorious is the princess in her chamber, with robes interwoven with gold. In many-colored robes she is led to the king, with her virgin companions following behind her. With joy and gladness they are led along as they enter the palace of the king.

What did it look like?” “My watch? It was silver. Not expensive or anything. Just a regular watch.” “Shiny?” “I guess.” “Raccoons.” Determined not to say anything stupid for at least the next ten minutes, she considered his single-word statement. Raccoons? Okay. He probably hadn’t started a word-association game, so what did he mean? Going with the safest response, she cautiously repeated, “Raccoons?” “They like shiny things. Take off with them whenever they can.” “You’re saying a raccoon stole my watch?” “Probably.” She really wanted to point out that they couldn’t possibly tell time, but knew instinctively that was a bad idea. “Can I get it back?” “Sure. If you can find it.” Could she? She glanced around at the underbrush, the trees, the stream. “Is it safe for me to go exploring?” she asked. “You’re not likely to be attacked by raccoons, but you’ll probably get lost, fall down a ravine, break your leg and starve to death. But if the watch is that important to you, have at it.” She felt herself deflating. “You don’t like me much, do you?” she asked sadly. She half expected Zane to stalk away, but instead he exhaled and shook his head. “Sorry.” She blinked. “What?” “I said I’m sorry.” Had the earth stopped turning, or had the taciturn hunky cowboy standing in front of her just apologized? “I--you--” She paused for breath. “That’s okay. I guess it was a stupid question.” “No. It was a reasonable question under the circumstances.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I get a little sarcastic sometimes.” “Let’s call it a dry sense of humor.” He half nodded in acknowledgement. “You’ll never find them, and even if you did, your watch would probably be all broken up and rusty from them dunking it in the water. Don’t leave out anything they’ll take. Shiny jewelry, another watch.” “I don’t have another watch. Not with me.” “You need to know the time?” “Just when the meals are.” “Cookie rings a bell.” “Really? Just like in the movies?” “Yeah.” One corner of his mouth turned up as he spoke. It wasn’t exactly a smile, but it was close enough to get her breathing up to Mach 3. “Come on,” he said. “It’s nearly time for lunch.” He started back toward the camp. Phoebe followed him happily. “You think the raccoons could ever learn to tell time?” she asked. He glanced at her. “You’re kidding, right?” “Maybe I have a dry sense of humor, too.” “City girl.” He was probably insulting her, but the way he said the word made her feel almost tall and, if not blonde, then certainly highlighted. “I think Rocky likes me,” she confided. “I’m sure he does.

Molten gold thrown on ground solidifies into an ungainly mass, but put in molds becomes attractive jewelry. Similarly, unarticulated thoughts reduced to writing will be nothing but meaningless jumble; whereas, properly reasoned and structured thoughts expressed in writing, become meaningful and if well written, can become masterpieces of literature.

But he came,” Podo said gravely. “Did someone give them to you?” Tink blurted. “How did you end up with the jewels if they were from Anniera? Did you agree to hide them?” Janner could feel his emotions rising again. “How could you do that when you knew it would put us—and all of Glipwood—in danger? Why would you give some of the jewels to Gnorm in the first place, if you knew they could lead Gnag here?” “Janner, the jewels I gave Gnorm were worthless to me,” Nia said gently. “Once, they might have meant something, but they were kept hidden for such a time as that. Gnag couldn’t care less about those jewels. There must have been something I didn’t notice in them that identified them as Annieran.” “Annieran?” Leeli said. “How did you get Annieran gold and jewelry?” Nia paused. “Because I brought them here. From Anniera.

Ritual characterizes every aspect of life here, and even mundane, daily activities take on an ageless quality. The daily rhythm begins at dawn, as the fishermen launch boats from countless harbors, an event that has taken place for centuries. The women go to market, exchanging greetings and comments. Ritual rules the care and time taken with every detail of the midday meal, from the hearty seafood appetizers to the strong, syrupy coffee that marks the end of the feast. The day winds down with the evening stroll, a tradition thoroughly ingrained in the culture of the Greek Isles. In villages and towns throughout the islands, sunset brings cooler air and draws people from their homes and the beaches for an enjoyable evening walk through town squares, portside promenades, and narrow streets. Ancient crafts still flourish in the artisans’ studios and in tidy homes of countless mountain villages and ports. Embroidery--traditionally the province of Greek women--is created by hand to adorn the regional costumes worn during festivals. Artists craft delicate silver utensils, engraved gems, blown glass, and gold jewelry. Potters create ceramic pieces featuring some of the same decorative patterns and mythological subjects that captured their ancestors’ imagination. Weddings, festivals, saints’ days. And other celebrations with family and friends provide a backdrop for grave and energetic Greek dancing. For centuries--probably ever since people have lived on the islands--Greek islanders have seized every opportunity to play music, sing, and dance. Dancing in Greece is always a group activity, a way to create and reinforce bonds among families, friends, and communities, and island men have been dancing circle dances like the Kalamatianos and the Tsamikos since antiquity. Musicians accompany revelers on stringed instruments like the bouzouki--the modern equivalent of the lyre. While traditional attire is reserved mainly for festive occasions, on some islands people still sport these garments daily. On Lefkada and Crete, it is not unusual to find men wearing vraka, or baggy trousers, and vests, along with the high boots known as stivania. Women wear long, dark, pleated skirts woven on a traditional loom, and long silk scarves or kerchiefs adorn their heads. All the garments are ornamented by hand with rich brocades and elaborate embroidery. All over the Greek Isles, Orthodox priests dress in long black robes, their shadowy figures contrasting with the bright whites, blues, and greens of Greek village architecture.

Many argue that Bitcoin has no “tangible” value and therefore should be worthless. Continuing the gold comparison, approximately two-thirds of gold is used for jewelry, and an additional amount is used in technology hardware. Gold has tangible value.

Gold nugget jewelry is bad.

Within the small village of the West Coast Asian diasporic scene, from Seattle down to Orange County, gossip was the only true currency that had weight—aside from gold bars, jade with 14-karat gold trimming, and other bits of jewelry that could be easily sewn into linings in times of war.

The curtains parted to reveal Aimée and the performance that followed proved to be even more exciting than the Kadine had hoped. The Kizlar Agasi was correct. Here was the little miracle that might save them... the next favorite and with some luck, the next Valide Sultana. The performance left the Circassian Kadine in a highly aroused state. She took several minutes to compose herself, touching her jewelry and her hair and smoothing the layers of gold silk that enveloped her body. When her breathing had returned to normal, she rose and approached Aimée, extending a trembling hand for her to kiss. “You are a pleasure to watch,” she whispered. Aimée knelt, completely naked, with her head bowed. “Thank you, my lady.” The Kadine lifted Aimée’s chin, tilting her face up to look at her. “How old are you, child?” “Nineteen, my lady.” The Kadine stroked Aimée’s cheek. “That is difficult to believe. You don’t look more than fifteen.” Aimée grinned broadly, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. “Thank you, my lady.” She likes me, and she is so beautiful. Oh, if only I were as beautiful. “You will join my retinue and reside close to my own quarters so that you may attend me personally.” Aimée loved the thought of being close to the Kadine, although she did not grasp the importance of the

Numerous gifted objects; black granite Etchings, carved statues, broken goddesses, Inscriptions, pottery, jewelry, rough-hewn Garnets, flowers, consecrated herbs, skulls, Gold ornaments, weapons, prized artifacts; Sacrifices, ancestors’ ageless prayers Left with olden Father Thames. For them, The sinuous streams were alive, full worlds Of votive offerings inside murky depths, Lifeblood pleas, observances thereafter Troubles now vanished, solemn promises, Treasures carefully bestowed upon Spirits, watchful deities; faithfully Invoking his ancient name Tamesas.

Revelation 17:3–6 (NLT): So the angel took me in the Spirit into the wilderness. There I saw a woman sitting on a scarlet beast that had seven heads and ten horns, and blasphemies against God were written all over it. The woman wore purple and scarlet clothing and beautiful jewelry made of gold and precious gems and pearls. In her hand she held a gold goblet full of obscenities and the impurities of her immorality. A mysterious name was written on her forehead: “Babylon the Great, Mother of All Prostitutes and Obscenities in the World.” I could see that she was drunk—drunk with the blood of God’s holy people who were witnesses for Jesus. I stared at her in complete amazement.

I thought about a game we loved to play called The Heavenly City. All the kids would design our mansions in Heaven, the ultimate reward we were told we'd be granted in exchange for all the deprivations and pain during our lives on Earth. Different kids had different dreams: Many wanted a house all to themselves, all the food they could imagine. And typical kid desires too: pets, toys, candy. All the things we never had. But not me. I didn't care about streets of gold or all the clothes in the world, or the real jewelry that Dorothea and the other girls fancied. I wanted books. I had a secret dream that my mansion in Heaven would be a giant library, beautiful, with tall shelves in every room, filled with every book that had ever been written. I pictured myself like the cartoon Belle, a sparkling girl with a worldly name that didn't come from anywhere in the Bible and meant beautiful, who'd been gifted the most precious thing I could imagine- the freedom to read, the ability to teach herself anything she wanted. Even though she was a prisoner in the Beast's castle, Belle had the freedom of her own mind.

She has had all of her jewelry melted down and fashioned into a big heart, not knowing how else to express her pain. She has a hole in her chest, and she must be mindful of it; it hurts and oppresses her. And so she had cast of prosthesis out of gold, a crutch for the heart.

In a harmonious ballet of grace, another maiden retrieved a gold bracelet adorned with sea blue and white flowers and pearls from a jewelry display stand. The stand, crafted from metal, held an array of bracelets that dangled from its graceful arms. The bracelets, made from an array of materials, featured intricate designs, from beads to stones. This particular bracelet, with its gold chain links, bore a large sea-blue flower with white pearls on either side. It also featured smaller white flowers and golden leaves scattered throughout its design. Placing the bracelet into the princess's hands, the maiden added to the symphony of beauty.

Let’s take a look at the five major asset classes: Alternative assets, which are usually physical assets like fine watches, real estate, collectible cars, art, and jewelry Stocks, which represent ownership of a piece of a publicly traded company Fixed-income investments such as government bonds and deposit certificates Cash, such as dollar bills, and cash equivalents such as savings accounts, retirement accounts, and 401(k)s Futures and other derivatives, which are contracts between two parties agreeing to buy and sell assets, usually commodities like gold, corn, wheat, or cows, at a future date

He pulled out a ring from his pocket and held it up between us. My lips formed an O as I stared at the beautiful piece of jewelry. It was a delicate rose gold ring with an amethyst center stone in a color that was a beautiful pinkish lilac tone. It was surrounded by smaller white diamonds. “When I saw it in the shop window, the color of the stone reminded me of the tutu you wore when I first saw you dance in your studio.” He shifted the ring so it caught the light and became a bit lighter in color—indeed almost my tutu.

Santhi Gems is a well-known gold buyer in Chennai that sets itself apart with exceptional services and a consistent commitment to customer loyalty. Santhi Gems has achieved a stellar reputation in the industry thanks to its straightforwardness, trustworthiness, and dependability, as well as its extensive history. This article delves into the key features that set Santhi Gems apart from other Chennai gold buyers, including its customer-focused approach, ethical practices, and extensive range of services. Research how Santhi Pearls' dedication to significance and genuineness go with it a leaned toward choice for those wanting to sell or credit against their gold assets in Chennai. 1. Introduction to Santhi Adornments' History and Foundation Santhi Gems, headquartered in Chennai, has been a trusted name in the gold purchasing industry for more than two decades. Santhi Gems has established a reputation for unwavering quality and authenticity thanks to a solid foundation built on trustworthiness and customer loyalty. Santhi Gems' mission and values are to provide customers with a straightforward and fair gold purchasing experience. Each partnership is guided by their genuine sincerity regarding the benefits, trust, and customer-centricity, ensuring that customers are treated with respect and consideration throughout the selling cycle. 2. Direct Assessing and Appraisal Communication Clear Valuation Procedures Selling Gold Jewelry Santhi Adornments provides a consistent and straightforward cycle for selling gold items, whether you want to branch out from your existing collection or update it. Their capable staff ensures that clients get fair motivator for their important effects. Gold Advance Offices Santhi Adornments offers gold advance offices in addition to buying gold gems, allowing customers to use their gold resources for financial assistance. They make it advantageous and secure to access reserves thanks to their flexible terms and competitive rates. 6. By placing an emphasis on client instruction, Santhi Adornments moves beyond value-based connections. They encourage customers to make educated decisions regarding their gold resources by providing experiences into the patterns of the gold market as well as advice on how to care for and maintain gold. Direction on Patterns in the Gold Market When managing valuable metals, it is essential to remain informed about the gold market. Santhi Gems ensures that customers are up to date on market trends, allowing them to make crucial decisions regarding gold investments or transactions. Tips for Taking Care of Gold Gems Proper care and attention can have a significant impact on their value and lifespan. Santhi Diamonds outfits clients with central hints on endlessly protecting their gold things, ensuring that they hold their greatness and shimmer for a seriously significant time-frame into what's in store. 7. Obligation to Follow Moral Principles The activities of Santhi Adornments are centered on following moral principles and being capable of doing so. They keep the advantages of uprightness and social responsibility in the gold business by focusing on fair exchange gold acquiring and implementing earth-manageable practices.

Gold Buyer in Chennai: Santhi Jewellery Chennai is a city where gold holds a special place because of its extensive cultural heritage. Gold has been used as a symbol of wealth and prestige in South Indian culture for centuries. Santhi Jewellery is the most popular place to sell gold in Chennai because of its dedication to trust, openness, and excellent service among the many gold buyers there. Why Exchange Gold? The decision to sell gold can be made for a variety of reasons, including the need to upgrade outdated designs, unlock financial liquidity in the event of an emergency, or simply to make a strategic financial decision. In any case, if you want to get the most money for your precious metal, you need to find a reputable gold buyer. Santhi Gems - A Confided in Gold Buyer in Chennai Santhi Gems has procured a standing as quite possibly of the most confided in gold purchaser in Chennai. Santhi Jewellery, which is located in the center of the city, takes pride in providing transparent and sincere evaluations for your gold assets, ensuring that you receive the best price based on market rates at the present time. Why Santhi Jewelers? Fair Market Value: Santhi Jewellery is known for providing honest and accurate gold appraisals. They use cutting-edge technology to evaluate the purity and weight of your gold, ensuring that you are compensated fairly based on current market prices. The process is open and transparent. Experience and knowledge: Santhi Jewellery has a deep understanding of gold's value and market trends thanks to years of experience in the gold industry. Whether your gold is in the form of old jewelry, coins, or bullion, their team of experts will make sure you get the best price for it. A focus on the customer: Customer satisfaction is a top priority at Santhi Jewellery. They make selling easy and comfortable for you, and they make sure that all of your questions are answered. Whether you are selling a little piece of gems or a lot of gold, each exchange is dealt with absolute attention to detail and impressive skill. Payment in a flash: The guarantee of immediate payments is one of the biggest advantages of selling gold at Santhi Jewellery. Payment is processed immediately after your gold has been evaluated and you agree to the price. Because of this, it is a convenient choice for people who require quick access to funds. No extra costs: At Santhi Jewellery, openness is important. Santhi Jewellery guarantees a transparent transaction, in contrast to some gold buyers who may deduct concealed fees or charges. The whole thing is easy, so there won't be any surprises. You'll know exactly how much you'll get. Convenient Location Santhi Jewellery is conveniently located in the center of Chennai, making it convenient for people looking to sell gold in the city. Their courteous staff is always available to assist you with any inquiries, and their modern and secure premises guarantee a safe environment for your transaction. Conclusion Santhi Jewellery is a name that stands out when looking for a dependable Gold Buyer in Chennai because of its professionalism, open process, and dedication to customer satisfaction. Santhi Jewellery guarantees that you will receive the highest possible value for your gold, without any hassle, whether you are selling old gold jewelry or looking for a quick financial solution. Visit them right now for a hassle-free and dependable gold buying experience.

Until then, my image of pop stars were just "pop stars." The people I grew up listening to and admiring. It's only right to be fascinated. I had this fantasy that they would be very different from me. But then, I learned they really weren't. On the outside, they ride expensive cars, wear gold chains, and have fancy parties every day. But a lot of it turned out to be just part of the business. It was "work" for them, in other words. And if they couldn't afford the cars or jewelry, they would rent them to show them off. There was, shall we say, a shattering. My fantasies were just shattered.

The Funniest Thing I See Everyday on Hello Poetry © Come on, get real! Who the fuck is going to steal your shit? Like some crackheads are going to break into your house and say, 'Hey ese, let's leave the plasma TV and gold jewelry. This fucking manuscript rhymes!

I nod and bite my lip as I take in the diamonds set in the thin two-tiered white gold chain. It’s a lovely piece of jewelry and, like so many before, it reminds me of myself. This cold, lifeless object shines. It’s expensive and seemingly perfect, but is it? As

My eyes roved over each and every one of the horses, approximating their age and probably stage in training, assessing their form and temperament and noting their reproductive potential. Eventually it dawned on me that silence had fallen. I turned toward Grayden to offer some excuse, but to my surprise, he was gazing at me with affection and sympathy in his green eyes. He smiled and produced a small box, which he extended to me. “What’s this?” I asked, thoroughly confused. He shrugged. “A token of friendship. I would be honored if you would accept it.” Curiously, I took the box from his hand. Anticipating jewelry, I prepared for a show of fake enthusiasm. Such a gift would be a sweet gesture, and undoubtedly beautiful, but I was not one for baubles. The box did contain jewelry, but not of the type I supposed. On a lovely chain of gold hung a small, golden horse, head high, legs outstretched in a gallop. I looked at Grayden, stupefied, although I didn’t need to feign my pleasure. “As I said, your uncle told me of your love for horses,” he explained almost shyly. “That it was a love you shared with your father.” “But I…I don’t understand. What are you…?” Seeing how flustered I was, he reached out and took my hand. “I’m not asking for anything, Shaselle. I just…I think you’re used to being seen as a problem. Maybe it’s presumptuous of me to say that, but your family apologized for so many things about you that I can’t help drawing the conclusion.” Not sure how to react, I opted to remain silent. “I think you’re only a problem for those people who are trying to turn you into something you’re not.” “A lady?” I wryly suggested, regaining my sense of humor. I leaned back on the fence, certain he would agree. “No,” he said, and there was conviction in his voice. “They need to stop trying to turn a free spirit into a traditional wife.” I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Could he truly believe what he was saying? Men played games to placate women. But I knew of no man other than my father who would enjoy seeing a horse pendant around the neck of the woman he was courting. “I do have a question for you,” Grayden said, leaning against the fence next to me. He hesitated, obviously uncertain about where our relationship stood. “The Harvest Festical is approaching. If you have no other plans to attend, would you consider accompanying me?” My eyes again filled with tears. There was no good reason--why should I be breaking down now, when Grayden was being so understanding, so tolerant of my eccentricities? “Come,” he said softly. “I’ll take you back to your cousin.” I let him escort me into the house, feeling like an ungrateful fool. I hadn’t even thanked him for his gift, and I desperately wanted to do so. But I couldn’t conjure the words to convey how I was feeling, and so I murmured farewell at the door.

The minister wore a light blue, three-piece suit, an obvious hairpiece, and a gold wedding band. No watch. No other jewelry. Nothing ostentatious. His face was gentle, trusting—the face of a dear uncle or friendly neighbor. His bright smile, one of his biggest assets, was firmly set. “Thank

RALPH Edmund, the county coroner, rolled the stretcher past Max. Ralph looked like a coroner—to be more precise, a mortician. Sallow skin, tall, thin body, thin black hair, long fingers. On the other hand he never dressed like a mortician. He wore loud colors, polyester prints, and ostentatious gold jewelry. He also did not act like a mortician. Ralph was emotional, loud, uncouth as all hell. Even better, he had the charming habit of chewing tobacco and spitting the black-yellow juice wherever and whenever he saw fit. “I

What do you want to know, my pretty?" Gordoc asked, his expression one of puzzlement. "Do you want me to scare Merl off--thump him for you? Just tell him your Uncle Gordoc will have words with him if he offends you." "No, no, I don't mean that." Tashi smiled. "He's not insulted me--at least, not by Eastern standards, I suppose." She wrinkled her nose. "What's he done?" growled Ramil. "Well, first there's the gifts--flowers and jewelry, mainly. What should I say when he gives me things?" "Thank you' usually does the trick," said Gordoc

Letty sat on a velvet couch, propped up with pillows. Rich royal-purple drapes everywhere she looked. Ivy walls. Candlelight. She had the best lamb she’d ever tasted. Must’ve been fed gold flakes and the milk of the gods. The bread cart was legendary. Like baked clouds. Everything plated as beautifully as jewelry. The artistic detail more precise than coinage.

On all the roads we traversed between Yozgat and Kayseri, about 80 per cent of the Muslims we encountered (there were no Christians left in these parts) were wearing European clothes, bearing on their persons proof of the crimes they had committed. Indeed, it was an absurd sight: overcoats, frock coats, jackets—various men’s and women’s European garments of the finest materials—on villagers who were also wearing sandals and traditional baggy pants [shalvars]. Barefoot Turkish peasant boys wore formal clothes; men sported gold chains and watches. It was reported that the women had confiscated many pieces of diamond jewelry, but [as they were sequestered] we had no way of encountering them.34

Jack sat in the big chair in his room and said, “Come here,” to Mel. She went to him and he pulled her down onto his lap. “I have something for you.” He pulled a small box out of his pocket, shocking her into silence. It was definitely a ring box. “I don’t know how practical this is in a place like Virgin River. It might be a little fussy. But I couldn’t help myself. I want to give you everything—but this will have to do.” She opened the box to find a diamond ring so beautiful it brought tears to her eyes. It was a wide gold band with three large diamonds set in; classy and understated, yet very rich and unique. “Jack, what were you thinking? This is beautiful! The diamonds are huge!” “I understand if you can’t wear it often, given your work. And if you don’t like the design—” “Are you kidding? It’s gorgeous!” “I went ahead and got a band like it, no diamonds. Is that okay?” “Only perfect. Where in the world did you find this thing?” “Not the Virgin River jewelry store, that’s for sure. I had to drive over to the coast. Are you sure you like it?” She threw her arms around his neck. “You gave me a baby,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting this, too!” “I didn’t know I was giving you a baby,” he said, grinning. “This, I did on purpose.” She laughed at him and said, “People will think we’re uppity.” “Mel—I got it a while ago. When I first thought you might be pregnant. Probably before you did. Even if it had turned out you weren’t, I was set on this. This idea to marry you, to have my life with you… It’s not something I feel like I have to do. It’s what I want.” “God, how did this happen?” “I don’t care how,” he said. He

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The winter of 1941-42 was severe and we suffered great deprivation. Mother had a gold chain and rings, Father always carried a gold pocket watch and a chain. Every now and then we sold a piece of jewelry in order to buy food and pay rent. Bread was often hard to get and yeast, for breadbaking, not easily obtainable. We consumed a lot of beans and peas and potatoes and waited for the elusive salvation to come.

her ear. She was stick-thin and pretty, with a loose pink top that let her breasts sway and rose-colored tight pants, but other than her Vegas body, she wasn’t making any effort to look glamorous. Her brown hair hung limply to her shoulders in a mess of curls. She hadn’t put on makeup or jewelry, except for a gold bracelet that she twisted nervously around her wrist with her other hand. The whites of her eyes were lined with red. Amanda began to approach her but found her way blocked by a giant Samoan in a Hawaiian shirt, obviously a bodyguard. She discreetly flashed her badge. The man asked if she could wait, then lumbered over to Tierney and whispered in her ear. The girl studied Amanda, murmured something to the Samoan, and went back to her phone call. “Mrs. Dargon wonders if she could talk to you in her limo,” the bodyguard told Amanda. “It’s waiting outside. There’s a picture of Mr. Dargon on the door.” Amanda shrugged. “Okay.” She found the limo without any problem. Samoa had obviously radioed to the driver, who was waiting for her with the door open. He was in his sixties, and he tipped his black hat to Amanda as she got in. “There’s champagne if you’d like,” he told her. “We have muffins, too, but don’t take the blueberry oatmeal muffin. That’s Mrs. Dargon’s favorite.” Amanda smiled. “She

is a sure source of silver, a place where gold is refined. 2Iron is taken from the earth; rock is smelted into copper. 3Humansx put an end to darkness, dig for ore to the farthest depths, into stone in utter darkness, 4open a shaft away from any inhabitant, places forgotten by those on foot, apart from any human they hang and sway. 5Earth--from it comes food-- is turned over below ground as by fire.y 6Its rocks are the source for lapis lazuli; there is gold dust in it. 7A path-- no bird of prey knows it; a hawk's eye hasn't seen it; 8proud beasts haven't trodden on it; a lion hasn't crossed over it. 9Humans thrust their hands into flint, pull up mountains from their roots, 10cut channels into rocks; their eyes see everything precious. 11They dam up the sources of rivers; hidden things come to light. Wisdom's value 12But wisdom, where can it be found; where is the place of understanding? 13Humankind doesn't know its value; it isn't found in the land of the living. 14The Deepz says, "It's not with me"; the Seaa says, "Not alongside me!" 15It can't be bought with gold; its price can't be measured in silver, 16can't be weighed against gold from Ophir, with precious onyx or lapis lazuli. 17Neither gold nor glass can compare with it; she can't be acquired with gold jewelry. 18Coral and jasper shouldn't be mentioned; the price of wisdom is more than rubies. 19Cushite topaz won't compare with her; she can't be set alongside pure gold. 20But wisdom, where does she come from? Where is the place of understanding? 21She's hidden from the eyes of all the living, concealed from birds of the sky. 22Destructionb and Death have said, "We've heard a report of her." 23God understands her way; he knows her place; 24for he looks to the ends of the earth and surveys everything beneath the heavens. 25In order to weigh the wind, to prepare a measure for waters, 26when he made a decree for the rain, a path for thunderbolts, 27then he observed it, spoke of it, established it, searched it out, 28and said to humankind: "Look, the fear of the LORD is wisdom; turning from evil is understanding.

Marie the Second sported a bright tignon to signal her status and identity. She flaunted her turban, gold jewelry, and a proud walk that announced to all that saw her -- I am not white, not slave, not black, not French, not Negro, not African American. I am a free woman, a Creole of New Orleans.

Belghazi arrived early that evening. I was enjoying a cocktail with Keiko in the lobby, where I had a view of the registration desk, and made him in an instant. He was swarthy, the legacy of an Algerian mother, and his hair, which had been long and unruly in the CIA file photo, was now shaved close to the scalp. I put him at about six feet and a hundred and eighty-five pounds. Dense, muscular build. He was wearing an expensive-looking blue suit, from the cut maybe Brioni or Kiton, and a white shirt open at the collar. In his left hand he gripped the handle of what looked like a computer briefcase, something in black leather, and I caught a flash of gold chain encircling his wrist. But despite the clothes, the accessories, the jewelry, there was no element of fussiness about him. On the contrary, his presence was relaxed, and powerful.

I knew they were my people, but it didn't feel like it. I was pushing against any first-generation narrative, while all the people in that area were seemingly proud of it. Aunties wore salwars to go grocery shopping, and little kids had those silver or gold bangles we were all given at birth...We were different from them, and I was determined to keep us different. Every piece of gold jewelry ever given to me was hidden in my dresser; I refused to wear any of it, because it made me feel I was being marked as an Other. (I now wear all of it, sometimes at the same time, a signal to other Others that I'm an Other too.)

You must take this. I hadn't wanted to seem forward and press it upon you without knowing you truly wished to help me. Can you sell it? And I'll bring the rest of my personal jewelry along to provide for us on the way. This is only one of the smaller pieces." The gold chain and setting flowed into Sheridan's palm. He glanced down at it, turned it over once and managed not to break into ecstatic smiles. He closed his fingers over the stone. "Princess," he said softly, taking her hand and pressing it against his fist, as if he could not bring himself to let her part with the jewel. "Are you quite sure?" She bit her lip, hesitating, and for one awful moment he thought he had gone too far. Then she looked up and nodded. He lifted her hand to his lips. "You are a brave and gallant lady.

It’s not too late for us to reverse our course,” her ladyship said with sudden vehemence. “Forget all about this unpleasantness and focus on something truly important like my missing gold locket. The story might have a few incongruencies now, but I promise to smooth them out and have the appropriate item of jewelry hopelessly lost by the end of the day.

My hair is dreadlocked and hangs down to the middle of my back. Several of the locs are jazzed up with gold strings, charms, and cowrie shells. I decorate my body heavily, choosing brightly colored clothes, adorning my ears and nose with many piercings, and draping my fingers and wrists with what some would consider an excess of brass and copper jewelry. I scent myself with frankincense and myrrh. People stare at me wherever I go. Significantly more in Janna, Sri Lanka, than in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn. But no matter--I'm gonna give them something worth looking at. I'm only here for a small amount of time. So I insist on taking up space in the world, in rooms, in my life, and in my relationships. I wouldn't have it any other way. I am here. This is my body. It is the place I live and also the place where I will die.

Clothing, jewelry, food, and gold, and you think you paid, Thomas. You didn't, not even close. But I think you will.

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changed. The floor was polished white and gold marble and set into the walls were glass cases that displayed probably millions of dollars’ worth of jewelry, cushioned in gold and white velvet. Lola's family had been in the jewelry business for decades, but access to what they sold didn't come easily. The family only sold their sparkly wares

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To one who listens, valid criticism is like a gold earring or other gold jewelry.

By 1937 Soviet standards, mementos of Russian history before the 1917 revolution were irrelevant. Even the suggestion that china, jewelry, or furniture created for the imperial palaces of the tsars was worth more than its weight in gold might be construed as anti-Soviet propaganda.

gold, which anyone could verify by checking the mass and volume of the gold. “We don’t use gold because it’s pretty—that was a stupid assumption of mine and many other people,” Wences would tell anyone who would listen during these days when he was totally immersed in the history. “No, we use it in jewelry because it’s very expensive. It’s not expensive because we use it in jewelry.

His shoulders were straight, his back erect. He looked like a man. Like a king. It was impossible for such a thing to have occurred; and when would it have happened? Otho was a drunk and a womanizer. What did he know of love? Dorian spun Celaena with speed and dexterity, and she snapped into his arms, her shoulders rising with exhilaration. But she wasn’t in love with him—Otho hadn’t said that. He had seen no attachment on her part. And Celaena would never be that stupid. It was Dorian who was the fool—Dorian who would have his heart broken, if he did actually love her. Unable to look at his friend any longer, the Captain of the Guard left the ball. Kaltain watched in rage and agony as Lillian Gordaina and the Crown Prince of Adarlan danced and danced and danced. Even with a much more concealing mask, she would have recognized the upstart. And what sort of a person wore gray to a ball? Kaltain looked down at her dress and smiled. Bright shades of blue, emerald, and soft brown, her gown and matching peacock mask had cost as much as a small house. It was all a gift from Perrington, of course, along with the jewelry that decorated much of her neck and arms. It was certainly not the dull, drab mess of crystal that the conniving harlot wore. Perrington stroked her arm, and Kaltain turned to him with fluttering eyelashes. “You look handsome tonight, my love,” she said, adjusting a gold chain across his red tunic. His face quickly matched the color of his clothes. She wondered if she could bear the repulsion of kissing him. She could always keep refusing, just as she had for the past

I am a goblin, sure, but only because I am small, mischievous, and greedy for gold and jewelry.

To support his cocaine habit, Richard committed scores of burglaries. Without difficulty, he was earning the money he needed for the cocaine—which was now between $1,200 and $1,500 a week. The fences at the bus terminal gladly bought whatever he had of worth, though they preferred televisions, stereos, jewelry, stamp collections, watches, any kind of gold, and diamonds.

Des said you never push a private dance to the guy dripping in gold jewelry or wearing a Rolex. Half the time, it’s fake, and the other half, that flashy decoration is all he has. Her advice was to target the guy in the Apple watch and Patagonia vest, because he’s wealthy enough to not GAF about what anyone thinks of him.

I visited four jewelry shops before I found a bracelet that appealed to me: two-carat, cushion-cut diamonds set in 18K gold. It was horribly expensive, but I handed over my plastic gaily, following McNally’s First Law of Shopping: If you can afford it, it’s not worth buying.

Gold can still be stored as a long-term niche asset for savings and jewelry, but due to its slow speed and lack of widespread acceptance in modern times — along with legal tender laws — gold is not a viable alternative to the global fiat currency system for payments, unless heavily abstracted via trusted counterparties.

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Revelation 17:3b–6 (NLT): . . . I saw a woman sitting on a scarlet beast that had seven heads and ten horns, and blasphemies against God were written all over it. The woman wore purple and scarlet clothing and beautiful jewelry made of gold and precious gems and pearls. In her hand she held a gold goblet full of obscenities and the impurities of her immorality. A mysterious name was written on her forehead: “Babylon the Great, Mother of All Prostitutes and Obscenities in the World.” I could see that she was drunk—drunk with the blood of God’s holy people who were witnesses for Jesus. I stared at her in complete amazement.

She wears chunky gold neck jewelry like battle armor and carries a leather briefcase for which some crocodile or snake probably gave its life.

Relax,” she hissed at the Captain of the Guard. “I only wanted to have some fun.” “Fun? Crashing a royal ball is your idea of fun?” Arguing wouldn’t help; she could tell that his anger was mostly about being embarrassed that she’d managed to slip out of her rooms in the first place. So she gave him a pitiful pout. “I was lonely.” He choked. “You couldn’t spend one evening on your own?” She twisted her wrist out of his grasp. “Nox is here—and he’s a thief! How could you let him come—with all this jewelry flashing about—and not me? How can I be the King’s Champion if you don’t trust me?” Actually, that was a question she really wanted to know the answer to. Chaol covered his face with a hand and let out a long, long sigh. She tried not to smile. She’d won. “If you take one step out of line—” She grinned in earnest. “Consider it your Yulemas present to me.” Chaol gave her a weighing look, but slumped his shoulders. “Please don’t make me regret this.” She patted his cheek, sweeping past him. “I knew I liked you for some reason.” He said nothing, but followed her back into the crowd. She’d been to masked balls before, but there was still something unnerving about not being able to see the faces of those around her. Most of the court, Dorian included, wore masks of varying sizes, shapes, and colors—some of simple design, others elaborate and animal-shaped. Nehemia still sat with the queen, wearing a gold-and-turquoise mask with a lotus motif. They

storehouse of all gold, diamonds, and jewelry to raise money.

For all their claims to modesty and simplicity, he found these Indian aunties by and large to be a vain lot, always conscious of their need to make an entrance, of their gold jewelry and their fine purses, and he felt it part of his job to accommodate them, exclaiming over their smooth skin and dark hair, which he knew owed more to dye than to youth.