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Honesty is the root of all
evil.
Money is the best policy.
A feast is
made for laughter, and wine maketh merry: but coins answereth
all things.
Whether he admits it or not, a coin dealer
has been brought up to look at inventory as a sign of his
virility, a symbol of his power, a bigger phallic symbol than
Coin Dealers all need money, but there
are degrees of desperation.
There are stupidities. . .
that have the ability to survive identification and go on
for ever . . . collectors, for instance, or
Nodrog
Numismatics, more of a stepmother than a mother in several ways,
has sown a seed of evil in the hearts of coin dealers,
especially in the more pompous ones, which makes them
dissatisfied with their own loot and envious of another's.
I
couldn't claim that I have never felt the urge to explore a
coin show, but when you descend into hell you have to be very
careful.
When choosing between two evils, a coin
dealer will pick the one he hasn't tried before.
Natural
selection, as it has operated in numismatics, favors not
only the clever but the murderous.
As a dog returneth to
his vomit, so a collector returneth to his folly.
A
collector sees not the same coin that a dealer
sees.
A spoon does not know the taste of soup, nor a numismatist
the taste of manganese.
We never really know what
stupidity is until we have opened a coin shop.
A dog
teaches a boy fidelity, perseverance, and to turn around three
times before lying down.
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