
The poor have to labour in the face of the majestic equality of the law, which forbids the rich as well as the poor to sleep under bridges, to beg in the streets, and to steal bread.
quote by Anatole France

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes

The law, in its majestic equality, forbids the rich as well as the poor to sleep under bridges, to beg in the streets and to steal bread.
quote by Anatole France

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The law, in its majestic equality, forbids the rich as well as the poor to sleep under bridges, to beg in the streets, and to steal bread.
quote by Anatole France

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The law, in its majestic equality, forbids the rich as well as the poor to sleep under bridges, to beg in the streets, and to steal bread.
Anatole France in The Red Lily (1894)

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rich and Poor
In me a sense has felt like each,
One causes others to wonder of strange beliefs,
In a feeding are the poor,
Poor are the opposite of the Rich.
In this side of the valley,
The Rich are better at living,
In opposition to the laughter
Of the Poor.
Poor is not Rich,
And Rich carries no Wealth
Of Heavenly Times.
poem by Naveed Akram

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The Very Thing That Makes You Rich
My father told me, lying on his bed of death,
"boy," he says, "woman she's gonna make it, don't fool your self
'cause she's got something to make a man lay that money, uh, right in her hand
And the very thing that makes her rich will make you poor
The very thing that makes her rich will make you poor"
That's right!
Well, i put you behind the wheel of a deuce and a quarter, yes i did
Had you living like a rich man's daughter, yes i did, i sure did
While you were living high on the hog
You had me down here scuffling like a dog
Well, the very thing that makes you rich makes me poor
The very thing that makes you rich makes me poor
Don't you never ever make such a bad mistake
You know i'd rather climb into bed with a rattlesnake
Then to work hard every day bringing that woman all my pay
The very thing that makes you rich makes me poor,
Makes me so damn poor
The thing that makes her rich makes me poor
The very thing that makes you rich make me poor
Very thing that makes you rich makes me poor
Makes me so damned poor
Money won't change it, no no...
song performed by by Ry Cooder

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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White Collar Crimes
social pathology;
poor are not prone
more to criminal
behavior honest
poor are bedrock
of moral society;
career options
notorious fleeting
crime benefits
white collar crimes
fancy lawyers
buy rich client
freedom Bell Curve
merry propaganda
Frankensteinism
blocks sewer pipes
H&M IQ thesis
non-white poor
discrimination
rhetoric evolved
to any race poor
laid off victim poor
stolen their houses
is not yet enough
greedy robber baron
rich must also steal
a hard poor workers
honour pride dignity
poem by Terence George Craddock

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A Man of Words
To some a seeker, to others a fool.
A rich man, a winner,
a poor man, a king.
A writer, a scholar,
a criminal, a cop.
To all whose boundaries like somewhere,
a fool you are not.
A centurion of words,
a seeker of truth,
and the word man writes what he sees.
Fools prey upon the conscience of others.
Rich see to rule and conquer,
while the poor beg their way through.
Criminals steal their goals,
but a writer writes his dreams away.
Puritans seek to purify,
criminals seek to steal.
Rich men seek to be richer,
Poor men seek to survive.
Writers seek to homage,
only stories to unfold.
poem by David Harris

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The poor rich
Who is poor rich? Who is rich poor?
A lone duck among swans is poor rich.
A lone swan among ducks is rich poor.
Each circle has either of one in it.
30.05.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Howling At The Moon
Sha-la-la-la sha-la-la-la-la-la sha-la-la-la-la-la
Ships are docking planes are landing
A never ending supply
No more narco no more gangster
Conservatives can cry
I took the law and threw it away
'cause there's nothing wrong it's just for play
There's no law, no law any more
I want to steal from the rich and give to the poor
Sha-la-la-la sha-la-la-la-la-la
Sha-la-la-la sha-la-la-la-la-la
It was glowing, glowing, glowing, glowing in the dark
It was sparkling, sparkling, sparkling, sparkling in the dark
I took the law and threw it away
'cause there's nothing wrong it's just for play
There's no law, no law any more
I want to steal from the rich and give to the poor
Winter turns to summer sadness turns to fun
Keep the faith, baby you broke the rules and won
Sha-la-la-la sha-la-la-la-la-la
Sha-la-la-la sha-la-la-la-la-la
Keep it glowing, glowing, glowing
I'm not hurting any one keep it glowing, smoking, glowing
I'm howling at the moon
I took the law and threw it away
'cause there's nothing wrong it's just for play
There's no law, no law any more
I want to steal from the rich and give to the poor
Oh baby oh baby oh baby oh baby
I took the law and threw it away
'cause there's nothing wrong it's just for play
I'm smoking, baby
I'm smoking, oh baby
There's no law, no law any more
I want to steal from the rich and give to the poor
Sha-la-la-la sha-la-la-la-la-la
song performed by by Ramones

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rich & Poor; or Saint & Sinner
The poor man's sins are glaring;
In the face of ghostly warning
He is caught in the fact
Of an overt act---
Buying greens on a Sunday morning.
The rich man's sins are hidden
In the pomp of wealth and station;
And escape the sight
Of the children of light,
Who are wise in their generation.
The rich man has a kitchen,
And cooks to dress his dinner;
The poor who would roast
To the baker's must post,
And thus becomes a sinner.
The rich man has a cellar,
And a ready butler by him;
The poor man must steer
For his pint of beer
Where the saint can't choose but to spy him.
The rich man's painted windows
Hide the concerts of the quality;
The poor can but share
A crack'd fiddle in the air,
Which offends all sound morality.
The rich man is invisible
In the crowd of his gay society;
But the poor man's delight
Is a sore in the sight,
And a stench in the nose of piety.
poem by Thomas Love Peacock

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The man whose riches satisfy his greed
The man whose riches satisfy his greed
Is not more rich for all those heaps and hoards
Than some poor man who has enough to feed
And clothe his corpse with such as God affords.
I have no use for men who steal and cheat;
The fruit of evil poisons those who eat.
Some wicked men are rich, some good men poor,
But I would rather trust in what's secure;
Our virtue sticks with us and makes us strong,
But money changes owners all day long.
The Damet world
Poor dog
Walking
On the street...
Rich dog
In side
The home
Sounded
Waa...wa...waa...
poor street dog
Also
Sounded...
Dog also
poor or rich...?
The damet world...!
waa waa
waaaa
Rich and poor dogs...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar

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Tears of the poor
Tears of the poor are
The drinks of the rich.
Shedding of blood
Rich man's headache,
Poor men's justice.
Water is too cool
To bring forth your anguish,
Fire is the only solution
Drink fire to end your injustice.
Silence is lover's desire
Poor men's unbearable pain.
Din is the only right choice
To put forth your demand.
Dew is the conspiracy
Hatched between the rich and the king,
Morning is the 1st step
Of that poor men's sufferings.
poem by Abdul Wahab

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Rich dog
Rich dog
Sleep
On Bed...
poor dog
Sleep
On the street...
Dog is rich...?
or poor...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar

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Crying For Bread
"Please, lady! please pay my Ma for her sewing;
The suit fits you splendidly--that you'll allow.
Oh! don't say tomorrow! I see you are going;
But this will not hinder long--please pay me now.
Ma work'd all night for you! ev'ry minute;
Now she lies groaning with pain in her head;
And there by the pantry (with not a thing in it),
Sits poor little Theodore crying for bread!
Poor little Theodore crying for bread!"
"On! driver, on! they have all gone before us,
And I will not be late at the ball," Beauty said;
And wintry winds echoed her answer in chorus
With poor little Theodore crying for bread!
Poor little Theodore crying for bread!
"Please lady! please pay my Ma for her sewing;
I'll run and get change for you. Don't call me bold--
But how could you dance tonight all the time knowing
That we were left suffering, hungry and cold?
Ma looks so wild! she keeps calling for Daisy;
That was the name of my sister that's dead.
Oh! what shall I do, with my Ma going crazy,
And poor little Theodore cryiing for bread?
Poor little Theodore crying for bread!"
"Please lady! please pay my Ma for her sewing;
She must have some medicine--that let me buy.
Now, don't speak of beggars! 'tis money you're owing:
Do please, pay me part of it--else we must die."
On the wheels roll'd, and Fidele returned weeping;
Ah! in her absence a spirit had fled,
And morning light found her a weary watch keeping,
With poor little Theodore crying for bread!
Poor little Theodore crying for bread!"
poem by Henry Clay Work

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Bailout My Soul
My soul, is now empty
I know not, what to think
of this demise from, the rich and greedy
Shame on you all, forgettin' the poor and needy
The human spirit will still, soar on through
Although the poor are forgotten
oh my, thats' me and you
It's not that your poor
with your money machines
printing what ceo's need
more of the green
For we are in a worldy mess
never were poor mentioned
as Dylan once spoke
this so called rich American society
is but a joke
poem by Matt Mondschein

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Tears of the poor man (alternative version)
The tears of the poor are
The drinks of the rich,
Yet the shedding of blood
Is the rich man's headache...
And what of the poor man's justice?
In truth, water is too cool
To bring forth your anguish!
Fire is the only solution!
Drink fire to end your injustice.
Silence is each lover's desire,
Yet the poor man's unbearable pain.
Making a din is the only right choice
To put forth your final demand.
Dew is but the conspiracy
Hatched between the rich and their kings,
While morning is but the first step
Of each poor man's sufferings..
poem by Abdul Wahab

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The Tears Of The Poor Man
The tears of the poor are
The drinks of the rich,
Yet the shedding of blood
Is the rich man's headache...
And what of the poor man's justice?
In truth, water is too cool
To bring forth your anguish!
Fire is the only solution!
Drink fire to end your injustice.
Silence is each lover's desire,
Yet the poor man's unbearable pain.
Making a din is the only right choice
To put forth your final demand.
Dew is but the conspiracy
Hatched between the rich and their kings,
While morning is but the first step
Of each poor man's sufferings...
poem by Denis Martindale

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Shallow Grave
When I fall in endless sleep
I hope that I'll be buried deep
Let me be the one that fortune favours
Even good children got shallow graves
Throw another clown to the lions
Throw another Joan on the blaze
Cast me away on the cruel calm ocean
and leave me for days and days and days and days and days
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
I won't lie, I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
Bless the poor 'cos like the rich
They all end up in a ditch
In this world of fools and knaves
Even good children got shallow graves
The tinker, the tailor, the fabulous five
Nobody gets out of this alive
Chorus
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down, dig me down, dig me down deep
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
song performed by by Elvis Costello

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Iago: Poor and content is rich, and rich enough,
But riches fineless is as poor as winter
To him that ever fears he shall be poor.
Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend
From jealousy!
line from Othello, Act III, Scene 3 by William Shakespeare (1603)

Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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