Everything That Glitters Isn't Gold Novels & Stories

Her eyes glittered with the shimmer of gold that she imagined would be hers in twenty-four hours. --- The old woman in the dilapidated house was beyond ecstatic. She spent those hundred dollars buying a nice hands down dress for herself, two cans of beer and lots of food and still she was left with forty dollars. If sixty dollars could do this much, she couldn’t imagine how much ten thousand coins do. She chugged down the contents of the cans and chucked them aside. That night she slept like a log and her dreams were of a gold bed that she licked with her tongue.

The answer he came up with that night did affect the rest of his life. Jason's father taught him the difference between God and gold. He said, "if you want to be more like God and turn anything into gold, you need to know the difference between God and gold." Explaining further, he said, "The difference between God and gold is the letter L. He then said "The letter L stands for loser, looter, lousy leader and lair. If you do not get rid of those descriptions from your character, you will never develop your Midas touch - the ability to turn anything you touch into Gold."

Claire asked. He nodded. "Yes, she's the one. When he introduced me to her two nights ago, I saw her, and I was like, what the hell? Do you get? Like what are the odds? Well, I think sometimes this is how life is. You do not value what you have, and then you keep chasing after what doesn't really matter, till you realize that what you were chasing was just steel and you've lost gold in the process." Claire laughed. "Well, that is a nice analogy. So, in other words, I am gold and Vivian is steel?"

Aldrin asked as he scratched his head “One of the duchesses has made an order for 6.” “Okay.” Mira nodded. Aldrin handed her 60 gold coins. “Do you have glittering pieces that I can use for my work?” Mira asked without confidence. She had seen the stuff in her previous life, but she didn’t know what they were called. Aldrin took her around to the sections where he had all things sparkly. Mira looked around before spotting what she wanted, the copper-colored reflective bits of metal. “This…. I want this…” Mira pointed excitedly.

"But inside here, it's not like out there. We have unlimited fields." "How?" I asked, my mouth full of food. "The gold," he said with a knowing smirk. "It enhances everything around it." "I knew it was odd to have so much gold everywhere." "It's just a light coating on the outside of everything—from the gates surrounding our lands to the wooden posts in our crop fields. Every crystal has a unique quality." He held up his blue coffee mug that reflected the light. "Is that the same blue crystal used in your food supply that deformed most of your pack?"

Adorned in splendor, rich and proud— A golden crown her head endowed, Lapis necklace on her breast, Bracelets clasped with solemn zest, Twin rings gleamed with mystic might, Cuffs of gold on feet so light, And robes that shimmered starry skies— Each jewel a throne, each cloth a guise. Through seven gates she made her way, And at each one she had to pay. A gem removed, her power waned, Her godly might was slowly drained. Stripped bare, exposed, her glory gone,

“No, obviously, I don’t.” A mocking smirk curled up her red, plump lips. “Obviously, I expected that. I could ask you to kneel and wipe my shoe with your tongue, but even that, you are not fit for, you trash. My shoe is worth more than your entire life and that of your generation.” A chorus of chuckles erupted from her clique, their eyes gleaming with malicious delight. I let them laugh, because the last laugh was going to be all mine. Was I affected? Why would I? There is a saying that not all that glitters is gold, and she was a perfect criterion of that phrase—adorned in beauty and luxury, but her grotesque character reeked to the high heavens.

The hall of the Grand Jewelry Exhibition was a sea of light. Everywhere you looked, there was the sparkle of gold and the cold fire of diamonds. The walls were lined with velvet, and the air smelled like expensive flowers and the best perfume money could buy. Wealthy people moved through the room like slow, graceful sharks. They spoke in low voices, their eyes darting from one glass case to another, looking for the one piece of art that would make them look more powerful than their neighbors.

shifted. "We’re all 'Glitches,'" Silas whispered, looking at his own hands. "Even the ones we thought were 'Innocent.'" The Curator straightened his coat, a smug, silver smile returning to his face. "Exactly, Mr. Silas. Everyone in this world is a 'Product' of their own greed. Why fight for a 'Purity' that doesn't exist? Accept the 'Sponsorship.' Let us turn this 'Scrap-Heap' into a 'Gold-Mine.'"

It's amazing how she sees herself so differently when everyone around her dislikes her. "Hate to break it to you, Claire, but I'm afraid not everyone who witnessed your delusion agrees with you. You see, no one is perfect, everyone has their flaws and weaknesses. And honey, those who brag, don't have. If you keep saying how successful, how rich and how awesome your life is, then darling, your insecurity is showing. And what's with that gold metaphor? Don't you know that nothing lasts forever? Gold or no gold, you must always know the difference between being honestly pure gold or just simply gold-plated. You must understand that not everything is set in stone, what you call gold right now is