These giants are scraping the blue London skies. These tall edifices, tower over the city’s sky line and over our business and banking worlds.
These great buildings talk of power and prestige; money and wealth.
But all this glisters is not gold.
“All that glitters is not gold;
Often have you heard that told:
Many a man his life hath sold
But my outside to behold:
Gilded tombs do worms enfold.
Had you been as wise as bold,
Young in limbs, in judgment old,
Your answer had not been inscroll’d:
Fare you well; your suit is cold. “
The Merchant of Venice