Quotes About Manners

Enter my first neighbor - a woman who spoke in complete, coherent sentences, who ate with a knife and fork and who only cried at weddings. I couldn't help myself. In a dramatic gesture, I bolted the door and threw my body across it to prevent her exit. She understood.

Everyone behaves badly--given the chance.

If you brought up Joyce twice, you would not be invited back.

Don't be snotty too soon. And then don't be snotty at all.

Beware of a man with manners.

Well, you wanted me to be a hero in blue, so you better be resigned! Murdering doesn't improve one's manners!

During the first weekend Prince Charles showed Diana around Highgrove, the 353-acre Gloucestershire home he had bought in July--the same month he had started to woo her. As he took her on a guided tour of the eight-bedroomed mansion, the Prince asked her to organize the interior decoration. He liked her taste while she felt that it was a "most improper" suggestion as they were not even engaged.

Don't be crude, Professor. Profanity is one contest you will not win with me.

I realized that I must be on my best behaviour,' as he later put it, 'punctual, subdued, reserved; in short, display all the qualities with which I am least endowed.

persons of choleric dispositions and limited intelligences are apt to become rude.

Her (Jane Austen) moral message is infused with ideological insistence on the merits of good conduct, good manners, sound reason, and marriage as an admirable social institution. She never scorns love, but balances it often . . . with a firm advocacy of . . . the qualities of self-knowledge, self-discipline, and practicality.

Again, for the record, let me restate: you can't be rude to a coffee grinder and only an idiot would thank it for pulverizing beans. But you could, and probably should, unplug it if it doesn't shut up.

Politeness costs nothing.

The voivode with the hard-to-remember name, who must have heard something about the affairs and problems of Fourhorn, politely asked whether the mares were foaling well. Gerald answered yes, much better than the stallions. He wasn't sure if the joke had been well taken, but the voivode didn't ask any more questions.

Women don't have a say in my house. But, just between us, don't do what you did during supper last time in front of her again." "You mean when I threw my fork at that rat?" "No. I mean when you hit it, even in the dark." "I thought it would be amusing.

Drinking standing up, in a rush and without due reverence, does not become the nobility.

While Paul was a man of great faith, he was not a man of great patience or tolerance for those who opposed the gospel. But that was okay. God didn't choose him for his manners.

Freika said, and twisted his head around between his hind legs. Jane eyed him as he went to work. "You know, if you're smart enough for sarcasm, you're smart enough to know it's rude to lick your own genitals." The wolf looked up. "You're just jealous." She opened her mouth to deny it, then stopped. "Well, yeah.

Tell Aunt Louise to boil her head," said Robin.

Good,' said Mr Carton. 'Why children, a loathsome breed who should be kept under hatches or in monasteries till they have acquired some rudiments of manners and consideration for others, should be encouraged to think themselves of importance now, I do not know. The English as a race have always been sentimental about dogs, and draught horses in Italy where most of them have never been, but this wave of sentiment about children is a new and revolting outburst.

How two such charming women as Mrs. Brandon and Peggy can tolerate such a bounder as Francis beats me. I don't mean there's anything wrong with him, but he looks so damned pleased with himself.

Mr. Fanshawe, who like most of his sex would enthusiastically neglect any woman, however charming, to talk to any man, however dull, at once engaged Mr. Tebben in conversation. It

Mr. Cross, who was digging up dandelions on the lawn with a spud, came up to the car and courteously helped them out, which really makes the getting out more difficult, for there are only two ways of getting out of an ordinary small car: the one, to slide your legs out first and somehow get your skirt and the rest of you to follow rather like coming down a fire escape, the other to get out with your back to the audience and not care what it looks like.

Doesn't sound much like Dad anyway," grunted Nicko. "No," agreed Marcia. "It was far too polite.