Jean Chatzky

He that dies pays all debts.

Small debts are like small shot; they are rattling on every side, and can scarcely be escaped without a wound.

I owe much; I have nothing; the rest I leave to the poor.

Debt rolls a man over and over, binding him hand and foot, and letting him hang upon the fatal mesh until the long-legged interest devours him.

Forgetfulness. A gift of God bestowed upon debtors in compensation for their destitution of conscience.

If you’re thinking of debt, that’s what you’re going to attract.

Debt is to man what the serpent is to the bird; its eye fascinates, its breath poisons, its coil crushes sinew and bone, its jaw is the pitiless grave.

Debt can turn a free, happy person into a bitter human being.

Live within your means, never be in debt, and by husbanding your money you can always lay it out well.

A debt is still unpaid, even if forgotten.

The impulse dances inside the debt.

A small debt produces a debtor; a large one, an enemy.

A man in debt is so far a slave.

Speak not of my debts unless you mean to pay them.

If there is anyone to whom I owe money, I’m prepared to forget it if they are.