Quotes About Status

Those with the money are eccentric. Those without, insane.

Scott! If we had a band, we would be cool. Even if we sucked! We would transcend our class status or whatever, and become automatically cool.

Sir Humphrey Carmichael had paid through the nose for the privilege of marrying the daughter of a marquis, so that his son might call himself a gentleman. A gentleman's wealth came from land, or investments, or inheritance; he never actually took a direct hand in the vulgar business of earning money.

She was obsessed with clothes and status, how she never gave a thought to being responsible for her own actions, or even what she might do for anyone else-making her the ultimate example of all that was wrong and misguided about young women today.

But that was the problem with New York: No matter how succesful you thought you were, there was always someone who was richer, more successful, more famous.. The idea of it was sometimes enough to make you want to give up.

The typical orange-grove owner is a gentleman farmer who has purchased a suburban estate as a means of acquiring status.

He was accompanied by his occasional 'security assistant,' a man called Prawney, who was tall, bald, and African-American. These characteristics were practically mandatory at the security firm that employed Prawney. Many of its celebrity clients were white, and white celebrities always wanted big, shiny, black muscle. It was a status thing.

It's been said that no two species are more alike than wolves and humans. If you watch wolves not just in all their beauty and adaptability but in all their brutality, it's hard to escape that conclusion. Living as we do in family packs, fending off the human wolves among us, managing the wolves within us, we can easily recognize in real wolves their social dilemmas and their status quests. No wonder Native Americans saw wolves as a sibling spirit.

Without consulting our opinion—or even bothering to inform us of the underlying strategy—our brains produce hormones that make us feel strongly compelled to strive for status and assert dominance. Dominance feels like an end in itself. We don't need to know why. Here's why: high status aids survival. Status is a daily proxy for competition for mates and food.

Especially for upwardly mobile young females, declaring one's enthusiasm for Austen (whose heroines almost always move up in social and economic status as a result of the sterling marital alliances they form) has been a classic means of indicating one's purported good taste, good breeding, and good sense: I am an especially adorable member of the ruling class.

confused elitist. She thinks the kind of car you drive defines you, along with your zip code.

And, while it was regarded as pretty good evidence of criminality to be living in a slum, for some reason owning a whole street of them merely got you invited to the very best social occasions.

But the helmet had gold decoration, and the bespoke armorers had made a new gleaming breastplate with useless gold ornamentation on it. Sam Vimes felt like a class traitor every time he wore it. He hated being thought of as one of those people that wore stupid ornamental armor. It was gilt by association.

He had the kind of real deep tan that rich people spent ages trying to achieve with expensive holidays and bits of tinfoil, when really all you need to do to obtain one is work your arse off in the open air everyday.

They were indeed what was known as 'old money', which meant that it had been made so long ago that the black deeds which had originally filled the coffers were now historically irrelevant. Funny, that: a brigand for a father was something you kept quiet about, but a slave-taking pirate for a great-great-great-grandfather was something to boast of over the port. Time turned the evil bastards into rogues, and rogue was a word with a twinkle in its eye and nothing to be ashamed of.

The Ramkins were more highly bred than a hilltop bakery, whereas Corporal Nobbs had been disqualified from the human race for shoving.

Privilege (to the privileged) means having private laws.

The plain old Sam Vimes had fought back. He got rid of most of the plumes and the stupid tights, and ended up with a dress uniform that at least looked as though its owner was male. But the helmet had gold decoration, and the bespoke armourers had made a new, gleaming breastplate with useless gold ornamentation on it. Sam Vimes felt like a class traitor every time he wore it. He hated being thought of as one of those people that wore stupid ornamental armour. It was gilt by association.

He always says that,' muttered Vimes as the two men hurried down the stairs. 'He knows I don't like being married to a duchess.' 'I thought you and Lady Sybil-' 'Oh, being married to Sybil is fine, fine,' said Vimes hurriedly. 'It's just the duchess bit I don't like.

This is the way modern men do battle, not with spear and sword, but with credit cards. My platinum beats your gold. Poor Elliot with his unisex Minolta is left in the dust

Clyde was as vain and proud as he was poor

Well, Jon Hamm isn't a real celebrity.

You can't just walk up to Lebron James in a crowd of players and talk to him the way you can walk up to Jon Jones.

The world at large does not judge us by who we are and what we know; it judges us by what we have.