“I rushed across and started putting such handful of coins into the tin which he held out to me that it almost fell from his hand with the weight. ‘I am only a beggar, young sir, don’t put stones into my bowl'. 'These are not stones but coins. Count them if you wish’. I said. He sat and counted and then recounted sorting out the coins on that tattered cloth. He just could not believe it. He went on counting and feeling the coins. It made me so sad. I ran home in tears.”

“For he could coin, or counterfeit
New words, with little or no wit;
Words so debas'd and hard, no stone
Was hard enough to touch them on;
And when with hasty noise he spoke 'em;
The ignorant for current took 'em;”

“Time is running out for us
But you just move the hands upon the clock
You throw coins in the wishing well
For us
You just move your hands upon the wall”

“You saved me," I said. Nathaniel put his hands on either side of my face. "I had to," he said. "So you could save me back.”

“Titus complained of the tax which Vespasian had imposed on the contents of the city urinals. Vespasian handed him a coin which had been part of the first day's proceeds: "Does it smell bad?" he asked. And when Titus said "No" he went on: "Yet it comes from urine."”
Reprehendenti filio Tito, quod etiam urinae vectigal commentus esset, pecuniam ex prima pensione admovit ad nares, sciscitans num odore offenderetur; et illo negante: "Atqui," inquit, "e lotio est."

“In American culture the coin toss is the paradigm of the random event. A coin toss decides who kicks off the Super Bowl. Looked at another way, a coin toss is not random at all. It is physics.”

“Sometimes a piece of sun
burned like a coin in my hand.”

“I wouldn't if I were you, Noël; they count them before they put them out.”

“We all felt happy and excited because it was Diwali. My mother had saved lot of small coins from her shopping and gave them to me to buy crackers Stuffed full with sweets and feeling that life was grand I ran towards the market. Then I saw a blind beggar. He sat in the hot sun by the edge of the unpaved road while gusts of wind raised clouds of dust and rubbish over him. ‘Andhalalya paisa dey, Bhagwan’, he kept on saying to the passers, ‘Give one paisa to this blind man, oh! Bhagwan.’ In front of him there was a rusty cigarette tin. It struck me alongside my bright happy world there was a world of misery and pain.”

“The stairs ended. I wished I knew the jackass who’d made the staircase so short. I’d throw him down the damn steps so he could count them with his head.”