Quotes About Materialism

Y en el mundo real, Santa no es justo. Los niños ricos reciben todo y los niños pobres reciben basura de segunda mano que sus padres consiguen a duras penas. Hasta sentarte en el regazo de Santa cuesta dinero.

Where poverty ceases, avarice begins.

Hélas! Nous ne manquons jamais d'argent pour nos caprices, nous ne discutons que le prix des choses utiles ou nécessaires; nous jetons l'or avec insouciance à des danseuses, et nous marchandons un ouvrier dont la famille affamée attend la paiement d'un mémoire. Combien de gens ont un habit de cent francs, un diamant à la pomme de leur canne, et dinent à vingt-cinque sous? Il semble que nous n'achetions jamais assez chèrementles plaisirs de la vanité

For avarice begins where poverty ends.

Les avares ne croient point à une vie à venir, le présent est tout pour eux. Ce?e réflexion je?e une horrible clarté sur l'époque actuelle, où, plus qu'en aucun autre temps, l'argent domine les lois, la politique et les mœurs.

The reason for it all, nobody who is actually engaged in it can tell you, except the bosses, who believe that these sacred rites of composing dull letters and solemnly filing them away are observed in order that they may buy the large automobiles in which they do not have time to take the air.

That was the irony: Her mother loved things so much that she had nothing.

She accumulates stuff to insulate herself from the world,

If the counselor ever wrote a book about her experience as a marriage counselor she would probably mention it: I once had a patient who treated his car more tenderly than he treated his wife. (No need to mention the car was a Lamborghini, otherwise all the male readers would say, "Oh, well, then.")

You think the world begins and ends with you and your perfect little family and your perfect little life and you think stress is finding the perfectly color-coordinated cushions for your new $10,000 sofa.

It was embarrassing just how much genuine happiness she was gaining from something so superficial.

Capitalism really had triumphed. You could buy anything from gray-colored chips the size of marbles to giant boulder-size chunks complete with spray-painted graffiti.

That was the irony: Her mother loved things so much that she had nothing. Erika

What's she got to be flustered about if she's tall, blond and beautiful?" "Exactly," said Madeline, as if that answered the question. "She's got this equally gorgeous, rich husband too. They still hold hands. And he's nice. He buys me presents. Honestly, I have no idea why I stay friends with her.

Even when you win the rat race , you're still a rat .

It's better to HAVE and NOT NEED than to NEED and NOT HAVE.

Without a physical presence on the shelves, the Kindle books seemed slightly insubstantial. There was no equivalent of the satisfying cracked spine. There was nothing to bequeath to the next generation, nothing to sell on to live a new life in someone else's library. But at least the torrent of books that kept arriving had slowed down and there was space to walk up the stairs. I was being freed from the burden of all those bloody books.

He didn't say, Uncluttered is the privilege of the rich these days. Or: In a world of built-in obsolescence, saved means saddled with.

The woman owned never-worn Jimmy Choos and Manolos to die for and now they're all mine," Jazz announced starting up the car. "Along with some choice Prada and Kate Spade bags," she said with a reverential sigh, glancing at the bags in the passenger seat. "And the clothes," she sighed, "she's my size.

Only the untouched, the well-fed and contented, could possibly covet suffering like a designer jacket.

Un millón de dólares. Racionalmente admitía que un kilo ya no era lo mismo que antes, y que tendría que pagar la plusvalía. Con todo, la cifra nunca había perdido la imponente rotundidad de su infancia; daba igual cuántos otros tipos comunes y corrientes también llegaran a ser «millonarios», la palabra todavía seguía teniendo su aquél.

What saddens me is the corruption of youth and beauty, and the loss of soul, which is only replaced by money.

T.J. is addicted to ever new forms of comfort while oblivious to the need they might reveal;

She hadn't missed out on anything: there was always food and holidays abroad and shopping trips to Oxford Street and takeaways on Friday nights; there was always enough of everything. Her life was perfect. But it was matte, not gloss.