Quotes About Vanity

We're all victims of our own hubris at times.

I always have had a slightly jaundiced view about people who promote books about themselves.

Because handsomeness is always accompanied by vanity. And I suppose ugliness is accompanied by a wealth of virtues?

A man's vanity is more fragile that you might think. It's easy for us to mistake shyness for coldness, and silence for indifference.

There is no vanity so damaging to a man's character as pride over his good deeds!

What pursuit is more elegant than that of collecting the ignominies of our nature and transfixing them for show, each on the bright pin of a polished phrase?

Every author, however modest, keeps a most outrageous vanity chained like a madman in the padded cell of his breast.

Maybe in fairytales you're only as old as you feel, but here in L. A. you're every second as old as your pores.

This is what happens to those who sit still. People who did nothing ended up with nothing lives lived on nothing furniture inside a nothing space doing nothing watching nothing being nothing. They became supernovas of nothingness that turned into black holes of pathetic shit as they sank in on themselves and disappeared from existance. People like that were not even missed.

Ah! vainest of all things Is the gratitude of kings.

Todo es vana arquitectura, porque dijo un sabio un día que a los sastres se debía la mitad de la hermosura.

The poor dog, in life the firmest friend, The first to welcome, foremost to defend, Whose honest heart is still the master's own, Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone, Unhonour'd falls, unnoticed all his worth, Denied in heaven the soul he held on earth, While man, vain insect hopes to be forgiven, And claims himself a sole exclusive heaven.

What is the end of Fame? 't is but to fill A certain portion of uncertain paper: Some liken it to climbing up a hill, Whose summit, like all hills, is lost in vapour; For this men write, speak, preach, and heroes kill, And bards burn what they call their 'midnight taper,' To have, when the original is dust, A name, a wretched picture, and worse bust.

Then away with all such from the head that is hoary! What care I for the wreaths that can only give glory?

Men think highly of those who rise rapidly in the world; whereas nothing rises quicker than dust, straw, and feathers

To this principle of vanity, which philosophers call a mean one, and which I do not, I owe a great part of the figure which I have made in life.

I have dealt with the poor, Bathsheba. They need a great deal, but I do not believe they feel any great want for aristocratic females dressed in the latest stare of fashion telling them they are proud, vain, and licentious.

There is no personal achievement in being born beautiful.

She could stand to think that life's experiences, good and bad, died with the body, but she couldn't bear to believe that the dreams vanished too, those exquisite flights of reverie that never actually happened. All those experiences you can have for free. How could they burn and turn to ash? She would disappear one day, too, both her flesh and the woman she dreamed herself to be.

I'm so pretty, it's hard for me to think of myself as intelligent.

Vanity, thy name is vampire.

We're stunning—and we need to be, if we're to make a good impression and accomplish our goals. It's vain, it's stupid, and it's shallow, but that makes it no less true.

I'm so pretty, it's hard for me to think of myself as intelligent.

But a century from now, your mortal associates will be rotting in the earth, whereas, barring amputation or radical shifts in fashion, you will still be putting your pants on one leg at a time.