Quotes About Luxury

I don't design down to a price.

A farmer once told me one of the greatest luxuries of his life was to wake up early only to go back to sleep again.

Sadly, my income does not match my tastes.

Nurse!" Gay sat up, still dazed, but slowly awakening, in the lovely unaccustomed luxury of sheets. "I'm not mad, and I'm not ill, but I've been twenty thousand years away. And I haven't come back for gruel. Tell me: is there still some coffee left in the world?

as a luxury liner, it had been converted to wartime use; with blacked-out portholes and gray camouflage paint, it had

Tea is also a sort of spiritual refreshment, an elixir of clarity and wakeful tranquility. Respectfully preparing tea and partaking of it mindfully create heart-to-heart conviviality, a way to go beyond this world and enter a realm apart. No pleasure is simpler, no luxury cheaper, no consciousness-altering agent more benign.

Sophistication is upscale conformity.

Zijn dit kaartjes voor de eerste klas?' vroeg Kady plotseling... 'En een reservering voor de duurste suite in het Savoy?' ... '... ze pakken het wel heel groots aan,' zei Jake behoedzaam... 'Er zijn vast camera's,' ging hij door... 'Nou, een heel kort reisje dan. Misschien valt het wel mee.

Judy's bath salts

I hate Gucci. It's so expensive, but it's so ugly too, isn't it? I think they make it ugly on purpose. And yet people buy it out of sheer perversity.

I hate Gucci, said Francis. Do you? said Henry, glancing up from his reverie. Really? I think it's rather grand. Come on, Henry. Well, it's so expensive, but it's so ugly too, isn't it? I think they make it ugly on purpose. And yet people buy it out of sheer perversity. I don't see what you think is grand about that. Anything is grand if it's done on a large enough scale, said Henry. this is by god not donna tartt

What a luxury a cat is, the moments of shocking and startling pleasure in a day, the feel of the beast, the soft sleekness under your palm, the warmth when you wake on a cold night, the grace and charm even in a quite ordinary workaday puss.

My dear Gaultier,' said Lymond. 'It will send the Shadow of God into transports. I suppose I've seen objects more grisly before, but it doesn't spring to mind where.… Twenty-four-carat gold, Jerott. Look. And studded with rubies like fish-roes.' 'Yes. I think he'll be pleased,' said Georges Gaultier. For the first time satisfaction, animation and even cheerfulness rang in his voice. 'Sickening, isn't it?

And, long since ashore with his men and his booty, Crawford of Lymond, man of wit and crooked felicities, bred to luxury and heir to a fortune, rode off serenely to Midculter to break into his new sister-in-law's castle.

Lord Peter Wimsey stretched himself luxuriously between the sheets provided by the Hotel Meurice.

Not on the wealthy, who buy only what they want when they want it, was the vast superstructure of industry founded and built up, but on those who, aching for a luxury beyond their reach and for a leisure for ever denied them, could be bullied or wheedled into spending their few hardly won shillings on whatever might give them, if only for a moment, a leisured and luxurious illusion.

It was the room of a woman without taste or moderation, who refused nothing and surrendered nothing, to whom the fact of possession had become the one steadfast reality in a world of loss and change.

Its scheme was black and primrose; its walls were lined with rare editions, and its chairs and Chesterfield sofa suggested the embraces of the houris.

Three be the things I shall never attain: Envy, content, and sufficient champagne.

Why is it no one sent me yet one perfect limousine, do you suppose? Ah no, it's always just my luck to get one perfect rose.

On the delivery plate of the Nutri-Matic Drink Synthesizer was a small tray, on which say three bone china cups and saucers, a bone china jug of milk, a silver teapot full of the best tea Arthur had ever tasted and a small printed note saying Wait.

She felt faintly embarrassed by the sheer profusion of things she had for putting in baths, but she was for some reason incapable of passing any chemist's or herb shop without going in to be seduced by some glass-stoppered bottle of something blue or green or orange or oily that was supposed to restore the natural balance of some vague substance she didn't even know she was supposed to have in her pores.

A car, a blue convertible, sleek and desirable, came sweeping west out of Beverly Hills along the, as I understand it, gracious curves of Sunset Boulevard. Anybody seeing such a car would have wanted it. Obviously. It was designed to make you want it. If people had turned out not to want it very much, the makers would have redesigned it and redesigned it until they did. The world is now full of things like this, which is, of course, why everybody is in such a permanent state of want.

The room was not a room to elevate the soul. Louis XIV, to pick a name at random, would not have liked it, would have found it not sunny enough, and insufficiently full of mirrors.