Quotes About Superficiality

Spending an evening on the World Wide Web is much like sitting down to a dinner of Cheetos... two hours later your fingers are yellow and you're no longer hungry, but you haven't been nourished.

You can put a pig in a palace and that doesn't make him a prince! You can put a prince in a pig pen and he wont't become a pig.

People buy things they don't need, with money they don't have, to impress people they don't like.

Charmers are charming, but that's all they are.

ElfowiÄ™ sÄ… piÄ™kni, ale to piÄ™kno jest jak Å›cierwo zÅ'otego jelenia; pod skórÄ… rojÄ… siÄ™ z?erajÄ…ce padlinÄ™ robaki, gotowe w ka?dej chwili wypeÅ'zn?? na powierzchnie.

She found it soothing to get caught up in a brightly colored, plastic world where all that mattered was how much you ate and exercised, where pain and anguish were suffered over no greater tragedy than push-ups, where people spoke intensely about calories and sobbed joyfully over lost kilos. And then they all lived happily, skinnily ever after.

She didn't want to admit, even to herself, just how much the aging of her face really did genuinely depress her. She wanted to be above such superficial concerns. She wanted to be depressed about the state of the world, not the crumpling and creasing of her skin. Each time she saw evidence of the natural aging of her body, she felt irrationally ashamed, as if she weren't trying hard enough.

Everyone wanted to be rich and beautiful, but the truly rich and beautiful had to pretend they were just the same as everyone else. Oh, it was a funny old world. "So, school politics, girls," Madeline said as she carefully

She and Felicity didn't tolerate the overly skinny, the overly sporty, the overly rich or the overly intellectual. They laughed at people with personal trainers and small dogs, people who put overly intellectual or misspelled comments on Facebook, people who used the phrase "I'm in a very good place right now" and people who always got "involved"—people like Cecilia Fitzpatrick. Tess and Felicity sat on the sidelines of life smirking at the players.

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

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.

Everyone wanted to be rich and beautiful, but the truly rich and beautiful had to pretend they were just the same as everyone else. Oh, it was a funny old world.

They all looked like a shampoo commercial, healthy and clear-skinned, perfectly proportioned, a group of handsome young men. Their clothes hung on them like they were glad to be gracing such supermodels.

amazing how boring you can get away with being when you're pretty. No one seems to notice. When you're pretty everyone just assumes you must have a great life. People are so short-sighted, sometimes. People are so stupid. I have a dark past and I have dark thoughts. I do dark things and I scare myself sometimes. I wake in the middle of the night and I've twisted myself

It's amazing how boring you can get away with being when you're pretty. No one seems to notice. When you're pretty everyone just assumes you must have a great life. People are so short-sighted, sometimes. People are so stupid.

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.

If I close my eyes and think of Hollywood, all I see is one big varicose vein.

I had become a perfect fake human, saying the stupid and pointless things that humans say to each other all day long.

Money to me had always been merely something the sheep used to show each other how wonderful they were.

I enjoyed watching good-looking idiots looking at each other. A great spectator sport.

I poked at the white paper bag. There was nothing left inside. Just like me: a clean crisp outside and nothing at all on the inside.

teeth. I had become a perfect fake human, saying the stupid and pointless things that humans say to each other all day long.

In Madeleine's face was a stupidity Mitchell had never seen before. It was the stupidity of all normal people. It was the stupidity of the fortunate and the beautiful, of everybody who got what they wanted in life and so remained unremarkable.

If you're buying an album because of the face on it, you're stupid.