Shun idleness. It is rust that attaches itself to the most brilliant metals.
Metal rusts, music lasts forever.
I were better to be eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion.
I'd much rather wear out than rust out.
With sharpen'd sight pale Antiquaries pore, Th' inscription value, but the rust adore. This the blue varnish, that the green endears; The sacred rust of twice ten hundred years.
When it comes to staying tuned: if you rest, you rust.
People are just like farm equipment. They rust out quicker than they wear out.
It is not work that kills men, it is worry. Work is healthy; you can hardly put more upon a man that he can bear. Worry is rust upon the blade.
The sun is not ridiculous, quite the contrary. On everything I like, on the rust of the construction girders, on the rotten boards of the fence, a miserly, uncertain light falls, like the look you give, after a sleepless night, on decisions made with enthusiasm the day before, on pages you have written in one spurt without crossing out a word.
I would rather wear out than rust out.
It is not work that kills men; it is worry. Worry is rust upon the blade.
There is a polish for everything that takes away rust, and the polish for the heart is the remembrance of God.
Tis better to have love and lust Than to let our apparatus rust.
Solitude may rust your words.
Few minds wear out; more rust out.
Rust, corrosion, wind, rain. The nibbling teeth of mice and the acrid droppings of insects and the devouring jaws of years. The was of nature upon machines, of the planet's chaotic forces upon the works of humankind. The energy that man had pulled from the earth was being inexorably pulled back into it, sucked like water down a drain. Before long, if it hadn't happened already, not a single high-tension pole would be left standing on the earth. Mankind had built a world that would take a hundred years to die. A century for the last light to go out.
Guilt upon the conscience, like rust upon iron, both defiles and consumes it, gnawing and creeping into it, as that does which at last eats out the very heart and substance of the metal.
There is rust in my mouth,the stain of an old kiss.
Anxiety is the rust of life, destroying its brightness and weakening its power. A childlike and abiding trust in Providence is its best preventive and remedy.
Be careful to be gentle, lest in removing the rust, you break the whole instrument.
Everything there is but lovin' leaves a rust on your old soul
I would rather burn out than rust out.
Mild depression is a gradual and sometimes permanent thing that undermines people the way rust weakens iron ... Like physical pain that becomes chronic, it is miserable not so much because it is intolerable in the moment as because it is intolerable to have known it in the moments gone and to look forward only to knowing it in the moments to come.
A toast to the weapons of war, may they rust in peace.
Just as gold tarnished in depth (cf. Jms. 5:3) cannot be properly purified and restored to its proper brightness unless it is cast in the fire and thoroughly hammered with mallets, so when the soul has been tarnished with the rust of sin and become thoroughly useless it cannot be cleansed and recover its original beauty unless it meets many trials and enter into the furnace of tribulations.
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