Quotes About Superficiality

If you're picking your best friend based on what kind of clothes she wears or how popular she is, chances are you aren't going to stay in touch after graduation.

The Shambaughs came, bringing Letty. She simpered up to me. Her eyes summed up the lace tippets on my Princess dress and the wide taffeta sash that was cutting me in half. Well, Blossom, just look at you! she said in her mother's own grown-up voice. I have always said a good dress will cover up any flaw. Then you had better get one like it, I replied.

Adam doesn't get people. They say things to hide what they mean. They run after pointless trinkets.

The shape of evil is much more superficiality and blindness than the usual list of hot sins. God hides, and is found, precisely in the depths of everything.

Their constant outward-looking, their mania for radios, cars, and a thousand other trinkets made them dream and fix their eyes upon the trash of life, made it impossible for them to learn a language which could have taught them to speak of what was in their or others' hearts. The words of their souls were the syllables of popular songs.

ONCE THERE WAS A PRINCESS WHO was very beautiful. She shone as bright as the stars on a moonless night. But what difference did it make that she was beautiful? None. No difference." "Why did it make no difference?" asked Abilene. "Because," said Pellegrina, "she was a princess who loved no one and cared nothing for love, even though there were many who loved her.

She had never looked to see what lay beneath the surface, because the surface was easy enough to polish and keep bright.

I have been mocked by beauty, too. But it was the beauty which cost me nothing that in the end turned upon me.

The envied are like bureaucrats; the more impersonal they are, the greater the illusion (for themselves and for others) of their power.

O, what a world of vile ill-favor'd faultsLooks handsome in three hundred pounds a year!

Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere you find them, and, when you have them, they are not worth the search.

This is the very false gallop of verses.

His face is the worst thing about him.

You speak an infinite deal of nothing.

It was always the same: everywhere there were the hard-hearted who pretended an interest, who began a conversation and then, their cadging over, walked away.

Popularity is exhausting. The life of the party almost always winds up in a corner with an overcoat over him.

In Beverly Hills, they don't throw their garbage away — they make it into television shows.

Men would sooner fuck trash than read it.

What's the definition of pathetic: overhearing the conversation of two plastic beauties (absolutely consumed with their image) and encountering the vacuum that exists between the ears of these people.

People with "new" money and those who look in the mirror and think they can be a model are the same type. They just don't get it and they never will.

A personality for the incredibly beautiful can be a pointless cargo...

The more one pleases generally, the less one pleases profoundly.

What a splendid head, yet no brain.

He'll be a minister in Spain some day, or, at the very least, ambassador to Washington, he's exactly the kind of pretentious fool with just a thin veneer of cordiality that the Right produces by the dozen and which the Left reproduces and imitates whenever they're in power, as if they were the victims of some form of contagion.