Quotes About Vanity

It's a business you go into because your an egocentric. It's a very embarrassing profession.

Every actress has to face the facts there are younger, more beautiful girls right behind you. Once you've gone beyond the vanity of the business, you'll take on the tough roles.

The vain man buys to impress, but the REAL man buys to fulfil a need.

Visibility without Value is Vanity

The hood ornament on your car is for telling you where you're going. The rear-view-mirror is for showing you how good you look while you're getting there.

I don't like the way I look in a car. The lighting is very bad.

I have a car that I call Flattery because it gets me nowhere.

He is not exactly fat, but he has the tight, glossy look of a man whose skin fits a little too well.

The root of narcissism lies in anxiety, and the fear of fragmentation, which may be assuaged by the sight of the reflection.

The idea that growth is by itself a goal is altogether a delusion. There is no virtue in a company's getting bigger. The right goal is to become better. Growth, to be sound, should be the result of doing the right things. By itself, growth is vanity and little else.

Cotton Mather lusted all his life for the presidency of Harvard, a post his father had held, and which the son affected to despise, especially after others were chosen; he was a prig and a meddler; an unscrupulous ideologue and a windy orator; a scribbler who praised simplicity in flowery circumlocutions, so anxious to see his production in print that it might be said of him, with little fear of exaggeration, that he would rather lose his soul than misplace a manuscript.

The more Christian you are in this town, the more makeup you wear. I've always thought that it's because if you were to die suddenly, you'd look better for God.

Only the wise know folly; fools know neither wisdom nor folly. Just as it takes wisdom to know folly, light to know darkness, it takes profundity to know vanity, meaning to know meaninglessness.

Narcissus, gazing at his image in the pool, wept. A friend passing by saw him and asked, "Narcissus, why do you weep?" "Because my face has changed," Narcissus said. "Do you cry because you grow older?" "No. I see that I am no longer innocent. I have been gazing at myself long and long, and so doing have worn out my innocence.

Self-obsession is not self-realization but self-destruction.

Wrinkled women lifting their faces, chasing their youth. Fat men sucking in bellies. Poor folks putting on airs. Sinners acting like saints. All of us keeping pace with our companions, stepping lively in this dance of deceit.

What if he could see this, his own skull, yellow and eroded? Two centuries old. Would he still speak? Would he speak, if he could see it, the grinning, aged skull? What would there be for him to say, to tell the people? What message could he bring? What action would not be futile, when a man could look upon his own aged, yellowed skull?

This rehearsal will end, the performance will end, the singers will die, eventually the last score of music will be destroyed in one wya or another; finally the name Mozart will vanish, the dust will have won. If not on this planet then another. We can evade it awhile.

Whenever you turn your head, your deaths dodge behind you. Wherever you look, they hide. They hide in a teacup. Or in a dewdrop. Or in a breath of wind.

L'immagine che abbiamo l'uno dell'altro. Strati e strati d'incomprensione. L'immagine che abbiamo di noi stessi. Vana. Presuntuosa. Completamente distorta. Ma noi tiriamo dritto e viviamo di queste immagini. «Lei è così, lui è così, io sono così. È andata così per questi motivi…» Basta.

Never in my life had I so harshly judged any adult—not my parents, not even Alvin or Uncle Monty—nor had I understood till then how the shameless vanity of utter fools can so strongly determine the fate of others. "Did you meet Mr. von Ribbentrop?" Now almost girlishly bashful, she replied, "I danced with Mr. von Ribbentrop." "Where?

Modern culture's insatiable appetite for photo-ops keeps the not-so-accomplished Tinkerbelles from gracefully slipping into obscurity where they should have remained in the first place.

But all our wisdom had been vanity. I could no longer feel superior to

A guy who advertises his own goodness is just another kind of asshole.