Prada Quotes

SOME GIRLS WEAR PRADA. SOME GIRLS WEAR GLOCK 17 SHORT RECOIL SPRING-LOADED SEMIAUTOMATIC PISTOLS WITH A LOADED CHAMBER INDICATOR AND A NONSLIP GRIP. - T-SHIRT

I would rather carry around a plastic bag with five thousand Euro inside, than carry around a Louis Vuitton/Gucci/Prada bag with only one hundred Euro inside!

She's got a big belt around her hips. It has a shiny buckle with PRADA on it, which is Italian for insecure.

Oh, don't be silly - EVERYONE wants this. Everyone wants to be *us*.

I've always expressed my thoughts in color but we remain blind.

Owning a dog is slightly less expensive than being addicted to crack.

Kiss the fattest part of my ass

The polite thing would be to go back inside, give you privacy when you read it. But, I’m just not that mature.' 'It’s nothing. Fine.' Feeling foolish, Laurel opened the envelope. You might think this is over, but you’d be wrong. I’ve taken your shoes hostage. Contact me within forty-eight hours, or the Pradas get it.

Cost to clean deeply soiled rugs: $200. Cost to replace shiny, black, stack-heeled, pilgrim-toed boots: $185. Cost to fix every single delicious table and chair leg in the house: $490. Life with two shelter dogs: fucking priceless.

Despite my best efforts, I'm not quite perfect. Let's just say I'm like one of those Hopi blankets where they leave a tiny flaw so as to not affront the Lord.

When I came in this morning, I'd had a plan. I was going to walk in there, throw that receipt in his pretty little face, and tell him to shove it. But then he'd looked so goddamn sexy in that charcoal Prada suit, and his hair stuck up like a neon sign screaming, Do Me.

In other words? The bitch had it coming. And I am that bitch.

…This… ’stuff’? I see, you think this has nothing to do with you. You go to your closet and you select out, oh I don’t know, that lumpy blue sweater, for instance, because you’re trying to tell the world that you take yourself too seriously to care about what you put on your back. But what you don’t know is that that sweater is not just blue, it’s not turquoise, it’s not lapis, it’s actually cerulean. You’re also blithely unaware of the fact that in 2002, Oscar de la Renta did a collection of cerulean gowns. And then I think it was Yves St Laurent, wasn’t it, who showed cerulean military jackets? …And then cerulean quickly showed up in the collections of 8 different designers. Then it filtered down through the department stores and then trickled on down into some tragic casual corner where you, no doubt, fished it out of some clearance bin. However, that blue represents millions of dollars and countless jobs and so it’s sort of comical how you think that you’ve made a choice that exempts you from the fashion industry when, in fact, you’re wearing the sweater that was selected for you by the people in this room. From a pile of stuff.

First loves were powerful and private,and they stayed with you for a very long time. A lifetime.(...) There would always be a small,intimate piece of your heart tucked away for the person you loved first.

I change clothes at least three times a day. It's the only way I can justify all the shopping I do. Prada to the grocery store? Yes! Gucci to the dry cleaner's? Why not? Dolce & Gabbana to the corner deli? I insist!

I just got threw reading Prada Plan 2 and it was off the chain. I hope there is a part3. Its got 2 be.

Travis punched his palm. “Do you want me to go beat the piss out of Finch? Teach him a lesson? I’ll take him out.” I couldn’t help but smile. “If I wanted to take Finch out, I’d just tell him Prada went out of business, and he’d finish the job for me.

Mom and Dad were great, but being asked where I was going every time I left the house - or where I'd been every time I returned - got old quickly.

Desigur, viata [...] e, pentru un scriitor tanar, o prada care nu cedeaza daca nu stii de unde sa apuci.

—Ése es mi problema, Denovan. No el tuyo. —Tu eres mi problema.

When I hug her, I notice she's still wearing yesterday's false eyelashes. Mom? You know those come off with a little makeup remover and a cotton pad?" I'm not taking them off." Why not?" I spent $180 on that makeup job and I refuse to wash my face until I get my money's worth.

For most people, the ringing of a phone was a welcome sign. Someone was trying to reach them, to say hello, ask about their well-being, or make plans. For me, it triggered fear, intense anxiety and heart-stopping panic.

So now I'm getting my gown made by an exclusive seamstress, and all thos anorexic whores on Michigan Avenue and Oak Street who made me feel like the Goodyear blimp can kiss the very fattest part of my ass.

I've determined the ideal job for me is one where I can write clever essays about my life and my employer will give me enough money not only to live a comfortable existence, but also to buy many, many new pairs of shoes.

No, it's not a 'corpse thing.' I feel I lack the emotional capacity to deal with those in mourning...

As I raced out of the office, I could hear Emily rapid-fire dialing four-digit extensions and all but screaming, 'She's on her way-- tell everyone.' It took me only three seconds to wind through the hallways and pass through the fashion department, but I had already heard panicked cries of 'Emily said she's on her way in' and 'Miranda's coming!' and a particularly blood curdling cry of 'She's baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!

Okay, she’s tough, but if Miranda were a man…no one would notice anything about her, except how great she is at her job

Do not mess with my friends, myself or my Prada.

It has a shiny buckle with PRADA on it, which is Italian for insecure.

I couldn’t help but smile. “If I wanted to take Finch out, I’d just tell him Prada went out of business, and he’d finish the job for me.

If I had a dollar for everytime my mother told me god had a plan I'd probably buy a new prada bag.

There were bags under my eyes and they weren’t Prada.

Although I get a lot of specialty services like wraps, scrubs, and mustache removal, my favorite is the simple manicure/pedicure. They work on your hands and feet at the same time while you sit in a vibrating chair. I call it the sorority girls version of a threesome.

She loved anyone and anything that didn't love her back, so long as it made her feel alive.

—Eso ya da igual. Voy a quedarme durmiendo en el sofá, porque está claro que tú ya tienes quien te caliente la cama. —Por supuesto que tengo quien me la caliente, pero a la única a quien me gusta ver dormir a mi lado es a ti.

Your mother is a baker," I snapped. "How do you not know how to work a bleeding stove?" "And yours is a flashy fashion designer," he shot back. "But I don't see you prancing around the place in fur coats and Prada handbags.

My idea is always to avoid nostalgia.

But, come on, even the waiting list for that new Prada bag was only a year. No school can be more exclusive than a limited-edition Prada bag, surely?

I'd begun to take for granted that he'd always be around... The only problem with all of this was that I wasn't exactly holding up my end of the deal.

What do you mean, ruined?" From the way Emily swallows slowly, you'd think we were talking about smoking crack. "Compromised. By...by another man." "Oh!" I say, too loudly. "You mean, if the girl's not a virgin, the guy won't marry her?" She nods, her eyes wide, as if being a non-virgin is akin to being an ax-murder.

I love Prada. Not so much the clothes, which are for malnourished thirteen-year-olds, but I covet, with covety covetousness, the shoes and handbags. Like, I LOVE them. If I was given a choice between world peace and a Prada handbag, I'd dither. (I'm not proud of this, I'm only saying.)

Tu ne souhaites pas réellement sa mort ai je pensé en m'étirant sur le siège arrière. Car si elle meurt tu perds tout espoir de la tuer de tes propres mains. Et ça ce serait vraiment dommage.

I found the guy! After more than twenty years of being single and jerked around and cheated on and alone, I found my soul mate. Pardon my French, but you think I give a shit about the flowers?

This is a Lucent PBX with Audix voice mail, right? I used this kind at all of my old jobs, so I'm pretty familiar with them." Completely ignoring me, Pat continues to demonstrate every single one of the phone's features, half of which she describes incorrectly. I don't bother taking notes because I've used this system a thousand times. I have no need to transcribe an erroneous refresher course. "Hey, you should be writing this down." Like I said, I've used this system extensively and--" WRITE IT DOWN," Pat growls. "If you screw up the phone, Jerry's gonna be on my ass." No problem." I'm slowly learning to choose my battles and figure this isn't the hill I want to die on. I pull a portfolio out of my briefcase and begin to take notes. When the phone rings and Jerry isn't there to answer, you pick it up and hold it to your mouth like this. You say, 'Hello, Jerry Jenkins' office.'" I write: When phone rings, place receiver next to your word hole and not your hoo-hoo or other bodily aperature, and say, "Shalom.

BABY BOY, FASHION IS NOT FOR ADVERTISING YOUR FAVE SEX ACTS ON YOUR SHIRT. UNH-UNH, NO IT'S NOT !

If Los Angeles is a woman reclining billboard model and the San Fernando Valley is her teenybopper sister, then New York is their cousin. Her hair is dyed autumn red or aubergine or Egyptian henna, depending on her mood. Her skin is pale as frost and she wears beautiful Jil Sander suits and Prada pumps on which she walks faster than a speeding taxi (when it is caught in rush hour, that is). Her lips are some unlikely shade of copper or violet, courtesy of her local MAC drag queen makeup consultant. She is always carrying bags of clothes, bouquets of roses, take-out Chinese containers, or bagels. Museum tags fill her pockets and purses, along with perfume samples and invitations to art gallery openings. When she is walking to work, to ward off bums or psychos, her face resembles the Statue of Liberty, but at home in her candlelit, dove-colored apartment, the stony look fades away and she smiles like the sterling roses she has brought for herself to make up for the fact that she is single and her feet are sore.

Well, fashion’s full of trickery, darling. But if you’re going to believe this season’s Prada boots will make you sexy and powerful, you should at least be as open to the concept that you have a soul and that that soul has a purpose as unique as your fingerprint and eye scan.

The living room is a monument to my impulsive spending habits. I've got more than two hundred DVDs, including cinematic greats such as Monkey Bone, Corkey Romano, and A Night at the Roxbury, leading me to believe not only do I have awful taste in films, but I also have a Chris Kattan fixation. What I don't have is $4000 earing intrest in a money market account.

Shouldn't you have today off? Isn't it Sunday?" "I've a half day off ever' three days. I'll be out temorra afte'noon." I snort. "A half day?" God, that's ridiculous. She doesn't even get a single full day off? What is Alex, some kind of slave driver? Jeez.

Where did you get them? Are they Stuart Weitzman? Prada Summer Collection?' 'Um, New Look, I think,' Lara told him.

SOME GIRLS WEAR PRADA. SOME GIRLS WEAR GLOCK 17 SHORT RECOIL SPRING-LOADED SEMIAUTOMATIC PISTOLS WITH A LOADED CHAMBER INDICATOR AND A NONSLIP GRIP. —T-SHIRT

Bianca: There's a difference between like and love. I like my Sketchers. But I love my Prada backpack. Chastity: But I love my Sketchers. Bianca: That's because you don't have a Prada backpack.

If I were a lesbian and had a thing for narcissistic ex-sorority girls? I’d totally do me." Bitter is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smart-Ass, or Why You Should Never Carry a Prada Bag to the Unemployment Office: A Memoir

Insatiable, impatient, impossible.

I was an atheist until I realized I was god. What happens if you get scared to death >twice. National sarcasm society:like we need your support.some girls wear Prada some girls we're glock 17 short recoil spring loaded semiautomatic pistols with a loaded chamber indicator and a nonstop drip.

She couldn't detach from him, couldn't catch her breath, and didn't want to. Not ever again.

Si-atunci, de ce sa ne lasam prada disperarii, cand viata se termina atat de curand si moartea este o intrare atat de sigura in fericire - in slava?

girl, before you say "what are those" to me, make sure you can afford the shoes i'm wearing. i'm gucci, you're walmart. i'm prada, you're nada.

This fight isn’t what you want. If I was wearing your Pradas, I’d pass the permit.” Kas glanced at her shoes. “They look better without bloodstains.

I don’t think we’re even the same species. She’s a shark in a mini-skirt. An alligator in Prada pumps.

This was how things worked. Period. Short of death (immediate family only), dismemberment (your own), or nuclear war (only if confirmed by the U.S. government to be directly affecting Manhattan), one was to be present. This would be a watershed moment in the Priestly regime.

It’s one thing to call off an engagement or even a wedding once the invitations are out—it’s hard, but it happens. But on the actual day? You’re walking, sister. Get yourself down that aisle and do whatever you have to do afterward, you know?

eBay is a fine place to unload your Prada bag when you're in a desperate situation and it's exactly what the doctor ordered when searching for a specific item, say an authentic 1965 edition of the game Mystery Date. eBay is a very, very bad place to go if you're a hypercompetitive asshole with a penchant for spite bidding.

Orice animal de prada ajunge mormintul viu a inca o mie de alti pradatori si nu rezista in timp decit cu pretul unui lung sir de martirii. Inteligenta mareste capacitatea de a suferii, atingind la om gradul cel mai inalt.

You know what? We need a recession in this country, because that would finaly weed out al the subnormal, underdeveloped, stupefied, puerile people in this workforce.

Le quiero con todo el corazón, pero él no está dispuesto a permitirlo

At one point I was climbing off the bus and I bumped into a woman in a crisp black blazer and pointy, witchy shoes. She had a bulky cell phone pressed against her ear and a black bag with gold Prada lettering hooked around her wrist. I was a long ways off from worshiping at the Céline, Chloé, or Goyard thrones, but I certainly recognized Prada. “Sorry,” I said, and took a step away from her. She nodded at me briskly but never stopped speaking into her phone, “The samples need to be there by Friday.” As her heels snapped away on the pavement, I thought, There is no way that woman can ever get hurt. She had more important things to worry about than whether or not she would have to eat lunch alone. The samples had to arrive by Friday. And as I thought about all the other things that must make up her busy, important life, the cocktail parties and the sessions with the personal trainer and the shopping for crisp, Egyptian cotton sheets, there it started, my concrete and skyscraper wanderlust. I saw how there was a protection in success, and success was defined by threatening the minion on the other end of a cell phone, expensive pumps terrorizing the city, people stepping out of your way simply because you looked like you had more important places to be than they did. Somewhere along the way, a man got tangled up in this definition too. I just had to get to that, I decided, and no one could hurt me again.

Her love was like armor that covered him as he went into the world. A man required that from his queen. A black man would likely die without it. It was the reason so many brothers perished too early, because they never received that affirmation from a queen. It was the black woman that strengthened the black man.

(Jen gets completely sloshed and it's not her wedding) I was supposed to meet Carol and her family at the aquarium the next morning, and somehow had the presence of mind to leave a voicemail apologizing in advance for not being able to make it. I was please at myself for being so responsible and considerate. After I left the message, I blissfully headed off to bed, wearing a face full of makeup, all my grown up jewelry, and a relatively restrictive girdle. Suffice it to say, yesterday was rough, what with my apartment spinning and all. But today I felt better. That is, until Carol played me the voice mail I left for her at 1:03 AM. Somehow I thought I had been able to hold it together on the phone. Following is a transcript of the message I left: 30 seconds of heavy breathing, giggling, and intermittent hiccups (At first Carol thought it was a 911 call.) Oh, heeheehee, I waassshh wayyyting for a beep. But noooooo beeeeeeep. Why don't you hash a beep on your, your, ummmmmm...celery phone? Noooooo beeeeeeep, hic, heeheeeheee. Um, hiiiiii, itsch JEENNNNNNNN!! It's thirteen o'clock in the peeeeeee eeeemmmmmmm. Heeeeeeeellllllllllloooooooo! I went to my wedding tonight and it wash sooooo niiiiiiiiiice. Hic." More giggling and the sound of a phone being dropped and retrieved Nannyway, I am calling to telllll you noooooooooo fishies tomorry...no fishies for meeee! I hic, heeeee, can't smake it to the quariyummm. Maybeeee you can call me so I can say HIIIIIIIIIIIIIII later hich in the day hee hee hee. Call me at, um, 312, ummmmmmm, 312, uummmmm, hee hee hee I can't member my phone, Hic. Do you know my number? Can you call me and tell me what it isssch? I LIKESH TURKEY SAMMICHES! 10 seconds of chewing, giggling, and what may be gobbling sounds Okay, GGGGGGGGooooooodniiiiiiiiiggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhttttt! No fish! Um, how do I turn this tthing off? Shhhhh, callllls' over. Beeee quiiiiiiietttt, hee hee hee." 15 more seconds of giggles, hiccups, shushing, and a great deal of banging Perhaps this is why most people only have one wedding?

Fashion is instant language.

There were plenty of great guys out there, and there was no need to get stuck on a jerk. Even if he was adorable and seemed perfectly sweet and genuine. Emily

Some sort of weird, shared inexplicable draw to fall in love with people who hurt and betray us.

I think I’ll always love him.

Oh, don't be silly - EVERYONE wants this. Everyone wants to be us.

A man is supposed to take care of what he values. You’re an asset. In order for an asset to retain its worth, it has to be taken care of,

Don't talk about yourself too much, don't dominate the conversation, get him comfortable enough to chat about his favorite and most familiar topic: him.

❝...lleno de odio, deseo reprimido y orgullo malentendido. Me encanta que las mujeres me preparen café por la mañana❞

I'm straight; I dont fuck with niggas that dont put me first. Im high maintenance, and it takes a lot of time to please me. I got to be a priority

Oameni răi... Alții nici nu există. Ori sunt nişte vite grase care îşi păzesc prada şi îşi consumă propria grăsime, ori sunt nişte câini turbați care te apucă de beregată! Alții nu există.

Corporate executives and businessmen do not. So somebody who wants to invest in a dam or build a steel plant or a buy a bauxite mine is not considered a security hazard, whereas a scholar who might wish to participate in a seminar about, say, displacement or communalism, or rising malnutrition in a globalized economy, is. Foreign terrorists with bad intentions have probably guessed by now that they are better off wearing Prada suits and pretending they want to buy a mine than wearing old corduroys and saying they want to attend a seminar. (Some would argue that mine buyers in Prada suits are the real terrorists.)

I would force a bare foot out from under the comforter and stretch my leg in the general direction of the alarm clock (which itself was placed strategically at the foot of my bed to force some movement), kicking aimlessly until I had made contact and the shrieking ceased. This continued, steadily and predictably, every seven minutes until 6:04 A.M., at which point I would inevitably panic and spring from bed to shower.

I lied quickly, remembering a Cosmo article I'd read that had exhorted me to “keep it light and airy and happy” when talking to a new guy because most “normal” guys didn't respond so well to hard-bitten cynicism.

Her mental list of items she’d need from her apartment was growing. There were things a girl just couldn’t live without, so Keegan would have to get them when he retrieved Muffin. “I need another purse. Can you get me my Prada knockoff? It’s in my closet on the shelf. Pink. It’s pink. I got it from a vendor in Manhattan. Jeez he was a tough negotiator, but it was worth the haggling. It’s soooo cute.” Keegan sighed, raspy and long. “Okay.” “Oh! And my nail polish. I have two new bottles in the bathroom under the sink in one of those cute organizer baskets, you know? Like the ones you get at Bed Bath and Beyond? God, I love those. Anyway, I need Retro Red and Winsome Wisteria.” Another sigh followed, and then a nod of consent. “My moisturizer. I never go anywhere, not even overnight, without my moisturizer. Not that I ever really go anywhere, but anyway I need it, or my skin will dehydrate and it could just be ugly. Top left side of my medicine cabinet.” “Er, okay.” “My shoes. I can’t be without shoes. Let’s see. I need my tennis shoes and my white sandals, because I don’t think there’s much hope for these, wouldn’t you say?” Marty looked up at him and saw impatience written all over his face. “And my laptop. I can’t check on my clients without my laptop, and they need me. Plus, there’s that no-good bitch Linda Fisher. I have to watch that she’s not stealing my accounts. Do you have all of that?” He gave her that stern look again. The one that made her insides skedaddle around even if it was meant in reproach. “I’m going too far, huh?” His smile was crooked. “Just a smidge.

It’s about protecting your wife, son. Your every decision should be about what’s best for her. You give a woman loyalty, and she’ll give you every piece of her. She’ll trust you, even when you’re leading her astray. She’ll follow you, even when you’re lost. But she’s got to be your partner, son. She’s got to know that you’re taking her to a place where no one else has been. Now if you got this one, that one, and Susie up the street all following behind you, she’s going to feel like a fool. You can’t be community property. Your wife is supposed to be exclusive. That bond is irreplaceable. If it’s you and her making sense out of this crazy world together, nobody else has to understand. It’s hard. You will argue and there will be days when you don’t like one another, but you will always love one another. She is your first priority. You don’t let the weight of the world even touch her shoulders. You carry it for her.

It was an aspiring neighbourhood that retained a faint edge of slum, typical of Shanghai. Pensioners in Mao-era padded jackets would sit on doorsteps playing mah-jong, oblivious to the Prada-clad girls sweeping past on their way to work.

(The paradox of Italian soccer). As everyone knows, Italian men are the most foppish representatives of their sex on the planet. They smear on substantial quantities of hair care products and expend considerable mental energies color-coordinating socks with belts. Because of their dandyism, the world has Vespa, Prada, and Renzo Piano. With such theological devotion to aesthetic pleasure, it is truly perplexing that their national style of soccer should be so devoid of this quality.

Se necesitan políticas para un crecimiento sostenible, equitativo y democrático. Esta es la razón del desarrollo. El desarrollo no consiste en ayudar a unos pocos individuos a enriquecerse o en crear un puñado de absurdas industrias protegidas que solo benefician a la elite del país; no consiste en traer a Prada y Benetton, Ralph Lauren o Louis Vuitton para los ricos de las ciudades, abandonando a los pobres del campo de su miseria. El que se pudieran comprar bolsos de Gucci en los grandes almacenes de Moscú no significo que el país se había vuelto una economía de mercado. El desarrollo consiste en transformar las sociedades, mejorar las vidas de los pobres, permitir que todos tengan la oportunidad de salir adelante y acceder a la salud y a la educación. Este tipo de desarrollo no tendrá lugar si sólo unos pocos dictan las políticas que deberá seguir un país. Conseguir que se tomen decisiones democráticas quiere decir garantizar que un abanico de economistas, funcionarios y expertos de los países en desarrollo estén activamente involucrados en el debate. También implica una amplia participación que va bastante más allá de los expertos y los políticos. Los países en desarrollo deben tomar las riendas de su propio porvenir. Pero nosotros en occidente no podemos eludir nuestras responsabilidades

This is how it should have been that first night down on the sand," he whispered. "This is our beginning Ivy. I want to make it official. I want there to be no doubt, 'cause I'm gonna do stupid shit all the time." I giggled, and his white teeth flashed. "I'm gonna leave the toilet seat up. I'm gonna be overprotective, probably bossy, and my temper is always gonna run hot." "I don't care," I told him, sliding my hands up to rest on his chest. "Tell me you'll be my girl, and I swear I'll love you with everything I got." "I'm always gonna be stubborn. I'm not gonna take your shit. My makeup will be all over the bathroom, and I still don't have a major. Oh, and I want to keep Prada. You have to like her, too." "I already told Rim to get your adoption paperwork ready for that rat." Then in lower tones, he said, "She's grown on me." I smiled. He totally loved Prada. "So what's my answer?" He tightened his arms around my waist. I pretended to think it over. A girl should never sound too eager-even if she was practically peeing herself with glee. "Blondie," Braeden growled. "I'm already yours, B. I have been for a long time.

I was an atheist until I realized I was god. What happens if you get scared to death >twice. National sarcasm society:like we need your support.some girls wear Prada some girls we're glock 17 short recoil spring loaded semiautomatic pistols with a loaded chamber indicator and a nonstop drip.

shed his Harvard persona in his late twenties and moved to South Carolina, where he'd immediately made a fortune in real estate. Judging from everything Emily had told me, he'd morphed into a first-class Southern boy, a real straw-chewin', tobacco-spittin' hick, which of course appalled Miranda, the epitome of class and sophistication. B

If I ever get the chance to travel back in time again, I’m finding the guy who invented corsets and we’re going to have a serious talk.

She couldn’t even fake being miserable for Andy’s sake.

Oftentimes, people meet our writing before they meet us; our writing is our first impression.People read our résumés, cover letters, proposals, and emails, and that's the basis on which we are judged first. If our writing is full of grammar and punctuation errors, even though the content may be great, it’s like wearing a beautifully made Prada dress that has deodorant stains

The books are all leather, and the titles are old. I pause at a collection of Shakespeare. Othello. Romeo and Juliet. A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I pull Hamlet out and look at it, but then set it back down on the shelf. I pass a row of books on philosophy, and another on astrology. Up and down I go, pausing now and then, but not pulling any books out. I’m not sure what I expected to find. The Idiot’s Guide to Time Travel?

Yet with the rise of AI, robots, and 3-D printers, cheap unskilled labor will become far less important. Instead of manufacturing a shirt in Dhaka and shipping it all the way to the United States, you could buy the shirt’s code online from Amazon and print it in New York. The Zara and Prada stores on Fifth Avenue could be replaced by 3-D printing centers in Brooklyn, and some people might even have a printer at home. Simultaneously, instead of calling customer service in Bangalore to complain about your printer, you could talk with an AI representative in the Google cloud (whose accent and tone of voice would be tailored to your preferences). The newly unemployed workers and call center operators in Dhaka and Bangalore don’t have the education necessary to switch to designing fashionable shirts or writing computer code—so how will they survive?

I’m only halfway through with my makeup when Angela strolls out of the bathroom in a miniskirt and backless top. “Wow,” Mindy says. I wonder if it’s the same wow I was thinking. As in, Wow, skanky much? I decide not to ask.

If Los Angeles is a woman reclining billboard model and the San Fernando Valley is her teenybopper sister, then New York is their cousin. Her hair is dyed autumn or aubergine or Egyptian henna, depending on her mood. Her skin is pale as frost and she wears beautiful Jil Sander suits and Prada pumps on which she walks faster than a speeding taxi (when it is caught in rush hour, that is). Her lips are some unlikely shade of copper or violet, courtesy of her local MAC drag queen makeup consultant.

What do you know about 1969, anyway? It was after your time." "I know everything." He gave me that sleepy-eyed smile of his. "Love or money, I'm afraid." "Great," I sighed, unable not to think about Alex and trips to Europe and the Hannandas with their Prada bags. "The two things that show absolutely no hint of ever coming my way. Shoot me now." "I can't, darling girl. No arms. Besides, even if I had the ability, I would never do such a thing. It would be dastardly.And..." "And?" "Ah,Ella.Fond of you as I am, there is no passion in my feelings." "Love or money," I droned. "Love or money," Edward agreed.

When the corset is deemed tight enough (as in, “Oh look, her lungs are the size of peanuts!”), the two maids mumble something about a petticoat, which I think must be the gown thing that goes over the corset. It’s softer than I’d expected, which comes as a relief. I’ll take comfort anywhere I can get it.

cele 3 secole diferitele lor tipuri de sensibilitate se exprima cel mai bine astfel: aristocratismul: Descartes, domnia ratiunii, marturie despre suveranitatea vointei. feminismul: Rousseau, domnia sentimentului, marturie despre suveranitatea simturilor, minciuna. animalismul: Schopenhauer, domnia dorintei, marturie despre suveranitatea animalitatii. mai cinstit, dar sumbru. secolul 17 e aristocratic, ordonator, trufas fata de animalic, sever fata de inima, "incomod", chiar lipsit de sentiment, negermanic, retinut fata de burlesc si naturalete, inclinat spre generalizare si cu aere de suveranitate fata de trecut, deoarece este increzator in sine. in mare masura si animal de prada, multa deprindere ascetica pt a putea ramane stapan. secolul tariei de vointa dar si al pasiunii puternice. secolul 18 e dominat de femeie, visator, inteligent, cam plat, avand totusi un anumit spirit la dispozitia dorintelor sale, a inimii, libertin in delectarea cu cele spirituale, subminand orice gen de autoritate. ametit, voios, limpede, uman, fals fata de sine, o mare canalie au fond, sociabil. secolul 19 e mai animalic, mai subteran, mai urat, mai realist, mai badaran si tocmai de aceea considerat "mai bun" "mai cinstit" mai smerit in fata "realitatii", mai autentic. dar slab in vointa, dar trist si sumbru, pofticios dar fatalist. nu se teme si nici nu stimeaza ratiunea sau inima. adanc convins de dominatia poftelor [Schopenhauer vorbea de "vointa" dar nimic nu e mai caracteristic pt filozofia sa, decat ca ii lipseste tocmai vointa per se]. pana si morala e redusa la un singur instinct ["mila"]. faptul ca stiinta devenit intr'un asemenea grad suverana arata ca secolul 19 s'a eliberat de dominatia idealurilor. abia o anumita lipsa de pretentii in felul nostru de a dori ne face posibila starea de curiozitate si rigoare stiintifica - aceasta stranie virtute care ne apartine. secolul 19 cauta instinctiv teorii cu ajutorul carora isi simte justificata subordonarea fatalista fata de real. suntem niste oameni care se autodesfiinteaza.