Stinginess Quotes

“Beware of those who are stingy, for they would rather sting you than give you anything.”
― Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem

“Conquer anger with non-anger;
Conquer wickedness with goodness;
Conquer stinginess with giving,
And a liar with truth.”
― Anonymous, The Dhammapada

“Hoarding kings are to be pitied in their lifetime
when they can't take their riches
to the grave.

- Gwallawg is Other”
― Taliesin, Taliesin Poems

“Thursday night was soft and sugary, one of those perfect objects that summer doled out once in a while to torture you with how it could be all the time, if it cared. Pepper had known women like that, women stingy with the better parts of themselves, and perhaps there were those who'd say the same of him.”
― Colson Whitehead, Crook Manifesto

“What really boils me blood is that it's not that Daddy didn't have money, but he never could think of a single good reason to spend it.”
― Marlon James

“..two forces kill old trees: the rot within that is caused by many diseases; and then of course, there are the storms and forest fires. There are plenty of diseases that create rot [in the church]: the hollowing out of Bible doctrine, the strife between members, and the lack of urgency. And failure to feel the weight of the momentous task we have been given. All of this is evidenced by the casualness of many Christians; their stinginess in giving; and their lack of vision beyond themselves. Add to that our self-righteousness and lack of transparency, and no wonder we are not having the impact we should. Then there is the unwillingness of churches to discipline members who have drifted from the faith and live in open rebellion.”
― Erwin W. Lutzer

“Superficial efficiency seems cheaper at first, but it costs more the long run, with the cost being pushed off onto someone other than the one who saves a few bucks.”
― Matt Perman, What's Best Next: How the Gospel Transforms the Way You Get Things Done

“Yes," Charlie was saying now, "I get up nice and early before the sun and do the little things that need doin' around the house. And then what d'ye think I do, Father? You'd never guess. Not in a million years you wouldn't. I'll tell you what I do: I go out in the yard and have a grand look at all the birds. Ain't birds lovely, Father?"
This was the softer side of Charlie: rarely visible, like the other side of the moon. I said, "Are you a bird watcher, then, Mr. Carmody? That's something I wouldn't have guessed."
"Ah well, I ain't a loony about it, Father. I don't go crawlin' around on my belly through the wet grass lookin' for the golden-headed hoohoo. That's nut stuff. But the fact of the matter is that nothin' makes me feel better than comin' down and findin' the whole place littered with birds, all kinds, singin' and chirpin' away all around me. I tell you, Father, there's days I might be St. Francis himself!"
I said, "Aha." It was a pale acknowledgment, unworthy of such an announcement, but the truth is that I had nothing better to offer. Thirty years as a priest and still unable to make the appropriate small talk with the living duplicates of the sanctified! Who, by the way, are more numerous than you might imagine. With Charlie, however, it seemed safe enough to stick to the birds, and so I said, "I suppose they come around because you're good to them; you probably put out a little seed for them every once in a while."
There was a pause.
"Ah well," he said slowly. "I don't exactly do that now, Father. No no. I'm a great man for the birds, none greater, but the way I do is this: they can damn well feed themselves. And they do! I'm here to tell you they do. On my grass seed." The old voice had suddenly become louder; there was a new note, unmistakably grim. "Grass seed is sellin' for two dollars the pound," he said, "and every robin on the place is gettin' big as a hen. Oh, I tell you, Father, a man has to look sharp or they'll eat him out of house and home. What I do, sometimes, is I sit around waitin' for them with a few little stones in my pocket." A dusty reminiscent chuckle come over the telephone. "I pegged one at this big black devil of a starlin' the other day," St. Francis said gleefully, "and damn near took his head off. Well, well, we mustn't complain, Father. That's the way life goes.”
― Edwin O'Connor, The Edge of Sadness