Social Satire Quotes

“Music is no longer tasted it is swallowed.”
― Jules Verne, Paris in the Twentieth Century: The Lost Novel

“Religion and nationalism? I defecate on the altar of religious conviction, and wipe my arse on the flag of national pride.”
― Ian Martin, Pop-Splat

“Now Miss Mapp's social dictatorship among the ladies of Tilling had long been paramount, but every now and then signs of rebellious upheavals showed themselves. By virtue of her commanding personality these had never assumed really serious proportions, for Diva, who was generally the leader in these uprisings, had not the same moral massiveness. But now when Elizabeth was so exceedingly superior, the fumes of Bolshevism mounted swiftly to Diva's head. Moreover, the sight of this puzzling male impersonator, old, wrinkled, and moustached, had kindled to a greater heat her desire to know her and learn what it felt like to be Romeo on the music-hall stage and, after years of that delirious existence, to subside into a bath-chair and Suntrap and Tilling. What a wonderful life! . . . And behind all this there was a vague notion that Elizabeth had got her information in some clandestine manner and had muddled it. For all her clear-headedness and force Elizabeth did sometimes make a muddle and it would be sweeter than honey and the honeycomb to catch her out. So in a state of brooding resentment Diva went home to lunch and concentrated on how to get even with Elizabeth.”
― E.F. Benson, Miss Mapp

“She's been, but she's coming back," he said. "I expect her every minute. Ah! there she is."

This was rather stupid of Stephen. He ought to have guessed that Lucia's second appearance was officially intended to be her first. He grasped that when she squeezed her way through the crowd and greeted him as if they had not met before that morning.

"And dearest Adele," she said. "What a crush! Tell me quickly, where are the caricatures of Pepino and me? I'm dying to see them; and when I see them no doubt I shall wish I was dead."

The light of Luciaphilism came into Adele's intelligent eyes...”
― E.F. Benson, Lucia in London

“This was all splendid stuff for Luciaphils; it was amazing how at a first glance she recognised everybody. The gallery, too, was full of dears and darlings of a few weeks' standing, and she completed a little dinner-party for next Tuesday long before she had made the circuit. All the time she kept Stephen by her side, looked over his catalogue, put a hand on his arm to direct his attention to some picture, took a speck of alien material off his sleeve, and all the time the entranced Adele felt increasingly certain that she had plumbed the depth of the adorable situation. Her sole anxiety was as to whether Stephen would plumb it too. He might--though he didn't look like it--welcome these little tokens of intimacy as indicating something more, and when they were alone attempt to kiss her, and that would ruin the whole exquisite design. Luckily his demeanour was not that of a favoured swain; it was, on the other hand, more the demeanour of a swain who feared to be favoured, and if that shy thing took fright, the situation would be equally ruined. . . . To think that the most perfect piece of Luciaphilism was dependent on the just perceptions of Stephen! As the three made their slow progress, listening to Lucia's brilliant identifications, Adele willed Stephen to understand; she projected a perfect torrent of suggestion towards his mind. He must, he should understand. . .”
― E.F. Benson, Lucia in London

“Marcia was silent a moment. Then a sort of softer gleam came into her angry eye.

"Tell me some more about her," she said.

Adele clapped her hands.

"Ah, that's splendid," she said. "You're beginning to feel kinder. What we would do without our Lucia I can't imagine. I don't know what there would be to talk about."

"She's ridiculous!" said Marcia relapsing a little.

"No, you mustn't feel that," said Adele. "You mustn't laugh at her ever. You must just richly enjoy her."

"She's a snob!" said Marcia, as if this was a tremendous discovery.

"So am I: so are you: so are we all," said Adele. "We all run after distinguished people like--like Alf and Marcelle. The difference between you and Lucia is entirely in her favour, for you pretend you're not a snob, and she is perfectly frank and open about it. Besides, what is a duchess like you for except to give pleasure to snobs? That's your work in the world, darling; that's why you were sent here. Don't shirk it, or when you're old you will suffer agonies of remorse. And you're a snob too. You liked having seven--or was it seventy?--Royals at your dance."

"Well, tell me some more about Lucia," said Marcia, rather struck by this ingenious presentation of the case.

"Indeed I will: I long for your conversion to Luciaphilism. Now to-day there are going to be marvellous happenings...”
― E.F. Benson, Lucia in London

“In Chestnut Hill money didn't talk, but it drank, and played a lot of golf.”
― Alistair McHarg, Moonlit Tours

“She ran her hands, butterfly fashion, over the keys.

"A little morsel of Stravinski?" she said.

It was in the middle of the morsel that Adele came in and found Lucia playing Stravinski to Mr. Greatorex. The position seemed to be away, away beyond her orbit altogether, and she merely waited with undiminished faith in Lucia, to see what would happen when Lucia became aware to whom she was playing. . . . It was a longish morsel, too: more like a meal than a morsel, and it was also remarkably like a muddle. Finally, Lucia made an optimistic attempt at the double chromatic scale in divergent directions which brought it to an end, and laughed gaily.

"My poor fingers," she said. "Delicious piano, dear Adele. I love a Bechstein; that was a little morsel of Stravinski. Hectic perhaps, do you think? But so true to the modern idea: little feverish excursions: little bits of tunes, and nothing worked out. But I always say that there is something in Stravinski, if you study him. How I worked at that little piece, and I'm afraid it's far from perfect yet.”
― E.F. Benson, Lucia in London

“Putların yıkılmasında herkes hemfikirdir; fakat kimse heykelinin dikilmesine itiraz etmez. Ne var ki, o mermer kaidelerin üstünde ancak Tanrı'nın ilahi ayrıcalığına mazhar olmuş kulları, rahat ve kaygısız oturabilirler... Bunlar da aptallar, şerefsizler ve kahramanlardır.”
― Ryūnosuke Akutagawa, Kappa

“All it comes down to is the fact that I'm a boy coming home for a month and meeting someone whom I haven't seen for four months and people are afraid to merge.”
― Bret Easton Ellis, Less Than Zero

“This was truly advanced WASP: how to comfort a wronged wife and mother without acknowledging any misdeeds done or embarrassment caused by loved ones.”
― Maggie Shipstead, Seating Arrangements

“Electrons who need electrons, but not people,
Are the luckiest electrons in the world."
--From the novel PAPELITOS by Jacques Carrié”
― Jacques Carrié

“The USA celebrates equality and ranks it accordingly.”
― Brian Spellman

“Then a delegation of blow-dried American scientists arrived.”
― Nick Cutter, Little Heaven

“Not The Done Thing by Stewart Stafford

Pass the strawberry conserve here,
Layer some cream on top,
This is how one eats scones, my dear,
We’re not pigs feeding in a trough.

Pinky raised when you sip tea,
No slurping sounds escaping your mouth,
Cucumber sandwiches in tiny triangles,
Crusts of bread all cut out.

Drawing room dramas over cordials ensue,
Gossip exchanged with finest manners,
Secrets kept as the cabal breaks up,
The public face flew on their banners.

© 2021, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“Harrogate wore its quirks like a badge of honour. Genteel parks. Overpriced tearooms. Pensioners in tartan, and the faint pong of Victorian delusion still wafting from the Royal Pump Room like a sickly memory.”
― Tom Cartledge, SaddleSore: From England to India

“Of the potatoes, I demand nothing; of the foolish ones like you, who think I could teach them something, I demand everything.”
― Sinclair Lewis, Arrowsmith