There be gold in them thar hills!
— Private George Gordon Haggard, Jr. Battlefield: Bad Company
O cursed hunger of pernicious gold!
What bands of faith can impious lucre hold?
-— Aeneas, The Aeneid, Book III
You see, Mr. Powers, I love goooooold! The look of it! The taste of it! The smell of it! The texture! I love gold so much that I even lost my genitalia in an unfortunate schmelting accident.
Howard: Aah, gold's a devilish sort of thing, anyway. You start out, you tell yourself you'll be satisfied with 25,000 handsome smackers worth of it. "So help me, Lord, and cross my heart." Fine resolution. After months of sweatin' yourself dizzy, and growin' short on provisions, and findin' nothin', you finally come down to 15,000, then ten. Finally, you say, "Lord, let me just find $5,000 worth and I'll never ask for anythin' more the rest of my life."
Flophouse Bum: $5,000 is a lot of money.
Howard: Yeah, here in this joint it seems like a lot. But I tell you, if you was to make a real strike, you couldn't be dragged away. Not even the threat of miserable death would keep you from trying to add 10,000 more. Ten, you'd want to get twenty-five; twenty-five you'd want to get fifty; fifty, a hundred. Like roulette. One more turn, you know. Always one more.
Gold, gold, hooked am I
Susannah, go ahead and cry
— "Gold Fever," Paint Your Wagon
And by the way, if you can't figure out what he's chasing in this show, I'll give you one guess:
Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold!
I'm afraid, children, that Mr. McDuck is in the clutches of Gold Fever. It's when you itch for wealth so much you forget what's important!
— Mrs Beakley, DuckTales, "Too Much Of A Gold Thing"
Thrór's love of gold had grown too fierce. A sickness had begun to grow within him. It is a sickness of the mind... and where sickness thrives, bad things will follow.
— Bilbo Baggins, The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey
Pretty girl, beware of his heart of gold...
This heart is cold! He loves only gold!
HE LOVES GOOOOLD!
Fourteen Orks on a humie's ship,
Killin' anything that isn't green,
Gruntin' to each other through big, sharp teeth,
Sayin' "Times be getting’ lean"
Thirteen Orks with the Captain's chest,
Hopin' to quench their greedy thirst,
Gruntin' to each other through big, sharp teeth
Sayin' "I was da wun dat saw it first"
One lone Ork left to steal the loot,
Wishin' it hadn’t turned out so,
Gruntin' to isself through big, sharp teeth
Sayin' "I shoulda let the pilot go"
— Traditional shipman's song from the Cyclops Cluster, Warhammer 40,000