The vulgar saying has it that 'time is money;' like most vulgar sayings putting the thing just the wrong way about.

'Money is time,' I prefer to say; it means leisure, and all that follows.

Why don't you write a poem on Money, Casti?
I almost feel capable of it myself.

What can claim precedence, in all this world, over hard cash?
It is the fruitful soil wherein is nourished the root of the tree of life; it is the vivifying principle of human activity.

Upon it luxuriate art, letters, science; rob them of its sustenance, and they droop like withering leaves.