Quotes About Sophistication

Ulysses, obviously. It was an elaborate prank, and our supposed intellectual elite continue to fall for it.

If you have an amazing sparkly dress or dramatic outfit, make sure you keep the accessories simple.

You know, this might surprise people, but what I really want and what I'm really working toward is a Chanel suit. I'd really like to have one that I could wear forever - a really classic one.

I was surprised that when you get into electoral politics how scientific the analysis was in the electorate. You can identify on a state-by-state or district-by-district basis fundamental building blocks that behave in different ways. I was impressed in general with the sophistication of polling.

I personally think that a bouquet of white roses is simple, chic, and surprisingly long-lasting.

wore a three-piece blue suit, a striped tie, and ivory cufflinks. His gray hair was combed along the sides of his head, and he looked as if he had just come from a concert.

A check girl in peach-bloom Chinese pajamas came over to take my hat and disapprove of my clothes. She had eyes like strange sins.

Her eyes were wide-set and there was thinking room between them. Their color was lapis-lazuli blue and the color of her hair was dusky red, like a fire under control but still dangerous. She was too tall to be cute. She wore plenty of make-up in the right places and the cigarette she was poking at me had a built-on mouthpiece about three inches long. She didn't look hard, but she looked as if she had heard all the answers and remembered the ones she thought she might be able to use sometime.

She'd make for a jazzy week-end, but she'd be wearing for a steady diet.

She was sitting behind a black glass desk that looked like Napoleon's tomb and she was smoking a cigarette in a black holder that was not quite as long as a rolled umbrella.

She wore a steel gray business suit and under the jacket a dark blue shirt and a man's tie of lighter shade. The edges of the folded handkerchief in the breast pocket looked sharp enough to slice bread.

She thought. It was nice to watch her thinking. She still had her legs crossed, and still carelessly.

She was wearing a brown tailor-made and from a strap over her shoulder hung one of those awkward-looking square bags that make you think of a Sister of Mercy taking first aid to the wounded.

She went out slowly. The way she did it hadn't been learned at business college.

One of Dalziel's dicta for police and public was, if you can't be honest you'd better be fucking clever.

I like writing that's smart on the page.

Machine idiolect. It doesn't matter how sophisticated they get, they still end up sounding like a playgroup learning box. I sighed and looked directly ahead at the slice-of-virtual-life holos on the wall. "You want out, now'd be a good time to tell me." "I do not want out, Takeshi Kovacs. I merely wished to acquaint you with the considerations involved in this course of action." "Okay. I'm acquainted.

I had come to the conclusion that I must really be French, only no one had ever informed me of this fact. I loved the people, the food, the lay of the land, the civilized atmosphere, and the generous pace of life.

In France, Paul explained, good cooking was regarded as a combination of national sport and high art, and wine was always served with lunch and dinner.

He was too clever. If you're that clever you can argue yourself into anything. You just leave common sense behind.

Sybil, vulgarity is no substitute for wit.

If Daisy Buchanan's laugh is the sound of money, then a gimlet, well executed, is the color of it. It is just the thing when you are feeling impoverished, financially or spiritually.

A fine man, observed my sister, pouring mead for the two of us. Well trained.

Everyone knows you're beautiful," he'd told her, "but no one knows that you're clever." Clever. Anybody could be smart. It took a special somebody to be clever.