Slang Money Quotes

Shakespeare used the word 'flush' to indicate plenty of money. Well, just remember there was only one Shakespeare, and he was the only one that had a right to use that word in that sense . You'll never be a Shakespeare, there will never be such another— Nature exhausted herself in producing him.

You said, the other day, you thought we were a deal happier than the King children, for they were fighting and fretting all the time, in spite of their money.’ ‘So I did, Beth. Well, I think we are ; for, though we do have to work, we make fun for ourselves, and are a pretty jolly set, as Jo would say.’ ‘Jo does use such slang words!’ observed Amy, with a reproving look at the long figure stretched on the rug. Jo immediately sat up, put her hands in her pockets, and began to whistle. ‘Don’t, Jo ; it’s so boyish!’ ‘That’s why I do it.’ ‘I detest rude, unladylike girls!’ ‘I hate affected, niminy-piminy chits!

Dr. Finch became a bone man, practiced in Nashville, played the stock market with shrewdness, and by the time he was forty-five he had accumulated enough money to retire and devote all his time to his first and abiding love, Victorian literature, a pursuit that in itself earned him the reputation of being Maycomb County’s most learned licensed eccentric. Dr. Finch had drunk so long and so deep of his heady brew that his being was shot through with curious mannerisms and odd exclamations. He punctuated his speech with little “hah”s and “hum”s and archaic expressions, on top of which his penchant for modern slang teetered precariously. His wit was hatpin sharp; he was absentminded; he was a bachelor but gave the impression of harboring amusing memories; he possessed a yellow cat nineteen years old; he was incomprehensible to most of Maycomb County because his conversation was colored with subtle allusions to Victorian obscurities.

In 2014 the FBI drew ridicule for having compiled a list of 2,800 acronyms and abbreviations used in text messages, Facebook, and, yes, Myspace. It was an Urban Dictionary for the oblivious, paid for with tax money. The list contained a handful of abbreviations that are actually used and known to almost everyone (except some FBI agents). They were accompanied by thousands of obscure or obsolete abbreviations that the feds somehow dredged up. BTDTGTTSAWIO, we’re told, means “been there, done that, got the T-shirt, and wore it out.” The FBI effort demonstrated two points. One is that the life of online abbreviations and slang is short. The other is that those who use abbreviations like BTDTGTTSAWIO don’t care whether anyone understands them. Maybe they’re hoping someone will ask.

But it isn’t the fun of DIY invention, urban exploration, physical danger, and civil disorder that the Z-Boys enjoyed in 1976. It is fun within serious limits, and for all of its thrills it is (by contrast) scripted. And rather obedient. The fact that there are public skateparks and high-performance skateboards signals progress: America has embraced this sport, as it did bicycles in the nineteenth century. Towns want to make skating safe and acceptable. The economy has more opportunity to grow. America is better off for all of this. Yet such government and commercial intervention in a sport that was born of radical liberty means that the fun itself has changed; it has become mediated. For the skaters who take pride in their flashy store-bought equipment have already missed the Z-Boys’ joke: Skating is a guerrilla activity. It’s the fun of beating, not supporting, the system. P. T. Barnum said it himself: all of business is humbug. How else could business turn a profit, if it didn’t trick you with advertising? If it didn’t hook you with its product? This particular brand of humbug was perfected in the late 1960s, when merchandise was developed and marketed and sold to make Americans feel like rebels. Now, as then, customers always pay for this privilege, and purveyors keep it safe (and generally clean) to curb their liability. They can’t afford customers taking real risks. Plus it’s bad for business to encourage real rebellion. And yet, marketers know Americans love fun—they have known this for centuries. And they know that Americans, especially kids, crave autonomy and participation, so they simulate the DIY experience at franchises like the Build-A-Bear “workshops,” where kids construct teddy bears from limited options, or “DIY” restaurants, where customers pay to grill their own steaks, fry their own pancakes, make their own Bloody Marys. These pay-to-play stores and restaurants are, in a sense, more active, more “fun,” than their traditional competition: that’s their big selling point. But in both cases (as Barnum knew) the joke is still on you: the personalized bear is a standardized mishmash, the personalized food is often inedible. As Las Vegas knows, the house always wins. In the history of radical American fun, pleasure comes from resistance, risk, and participation—the same virtues celebrated in the “Port Huron Statement” and the Digger Papers, in the flapper’s slang and the Pinkster Ode. In the history of commercial amusement, most pleasures for sale are by necessity passive. They curtail creativity and they limit participation (as they do, say, in a laser-tag arena) to a narrow range of calculated surprises, often amplified by dazzling technology. To this extent, TV and computer screens, from the tiny to the colossal, have become the scourge of American fun. The ubiquity of TV screens in public spaces (even in taxicabs and elevators) shows that such viewing isn’t amusement at all but rather an aggressive, ubiquitous distraction. Although a punky insurgency of heedless satire has stung the airwaves in recent decades—from equal-opportunity offenders like The Simpsons and South Park to Comedy Central’s rabble-rousing pundits, Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert—the prevailing “fun” of commercial amusement puts minimal demands on citizens, besides their time and money. TV’s inherent ease seems to be its appeal, but it also sends a sobering, Jumbotron-sized message about the health of the public sphere.

I’m buying.” She was sure her wallet screeched at the generous offer. “I’ve got a few quid, thank you,” he said. “It’s cracking flags out.” He looked out the window then back, assaulting her with another heart stopping smile. “I’ve lost you, have I?” “I’m usually … I’m lost,” she admitted but in more ways than he realized. “I’m usually really good with slang, quid is cigarettes, right?” “Quid is money,

The embrace of aggressive social progressivism by Big Business is one of the most underappreciated stories of the last two decades. Critics call it “woke capitalism,” a snarky theft of the left-wing slang term indicating progressive enlightenment. Woke capitalism is now the most transformative agent within the religion of social justice, because it unites progressive ideology with the most potent force in American life: consumerism and making money.

Very curious, dear. But so sad about poor Sir Reuben. I must write a few lines to Lady Levy; I used to know her quite well, you know, dear, down in Hampshire, when she was a girl. Christine Ford, she was then, and I remember so well the dreadful trouble there was about her marrying a Jew. That was before he made his money, of course, in that oil business out in America. The family wanted her to marry Julian Freke, who did so well afterwards and was connected with the family, but she fell in love with this Mr. Levy and eloped with him. He was very handsome, then, you know, dear, in a foreign-looking way, but he hadn’t any means, and the Fords didn’t like his religion. Of course we’re all Jews nowadays and they wouldn’t have minded so much if he’d pretended to be something else, like that Mr. Simons we met at Mrs. Porchester’s, who always tells everybody that he got his nose in Italy at the Renaissance, and claims to be descended somehow or other from La Bella Simonetta—so foolish, you know, dear—as if anybody believed it; and I’m sure some Jews are very good people, and personally I’d much rather they believed something, though of course it must be very inconvenient, what with not working on Saturdays and circumcising the poor little babies and everything depending on the new moon and that funny kind of meat they have with such a slang-sounding name, and never being able to have bacon for breakfast.

Employers want articulate workers. Speak clearly and use a voice and tone that projects confidence — even if you don't feel very confident yet. Use professional lingo that demonstrates your knowledge of the field. Avoid the slang that is fine to use with your friends. Do not, under any circumstances, use obscenities. Show that you are someone geared toward growth and open to change. No employer wants to spend time and money training someone for a short-term position. You must assure the employer that you are going to stick around once your training is complete.

My mother calls once a year to ask when I’m going back to studies. This is Croatian slang for “the money’s up.

In Osaka slang, a tattoo is called gaman— you know, “patience” or “perseverance.” There are two things about getting tattooed that seem to impress people, the money it costs, and the pain it causes.

Picasso, Chagall, Lipchitz, and Matisse; writers like Hannah Arendt; Nobel Laureates; and even the journalist who’d bestowed on the German National Socialist Party the nickname Nazi, Bavarian slang for “bumpkin” or “simpleton,” which became so ubiquitous that Hitler’s only recourse was to embrace it. Fry was working behind the political cover of providing perfectly legal aid to refugees and a CAS “affiliation” with the respected American Red Cross to quietly arrange illegal escapes from France for those on his list. Surely this Fry fellow could use Nanée’s help, and her money too.

The most exclusive passengers rarely sought out new acquaintances aboard ship for fear that unwelcome intimacy and unsuspected antecedents might somehow tarnish reputations. Transatlantic liners were the known hunting ground of a particular type of scoundrel, the Arriviste, armed with enough money to buy temporary membership in this exclusive club and always on the watch for opportunities to add prominent figures to his circle of acquaintances. Post warned passengers against those who attempted to force themselves on others and struck up conversations without proper introductions. When this happened, one should immediately be on guard. A “few minutes of conversation” were sufficient to assess intent and breeding; expressions of slang, lack of decorum, and pushiness would quickly reveal someone who was “grasping, calculating, and objectionable.” If such was the case, Post advised, it was best to immediately leave or to divert one’s attention to a book or to another passenger.(

Other people -- and by other people, I mean men -- were afforded that freedom. Male rockers were rolling in late to awards shows and we thought it made them cooler. Male pop stars were sleeping with lots of women and that was awesome. Kevin was leaving me alone with two babies when he wanted to go smoke pot and record a rap song, "Popozão," slang for big ass in Portuguese. Then he took them away from me, and he had Details magazine calling him Dad of the Year. A paparazzo who stalked and tormented me for months sued me for $230,000 for running over his foot with my car one time when I was trying to escape from him. We settled and and I had to give him a lot of money. When Justin cheated on me and then acted sexy, it was seen as cute. But when I wore a sparkly bodysuit, I had Diane Sawyer making me cry on national television, MTV making me listen to people criticizing my costumes, and a governor's wife saying she wanted to shoot me.

In a game, there is a main character raised within American culture: he speaks in slang, lives for sex and pleasure, feels "successful" if the opposite sex chases after him, shows off by driving cars and motorcycles, obtains respect if he buys a yacht, worships money and wealth, has numerous tattoos and ornaments, spends his nights in clubs and casinos, feels "powerful" when he holds a gun, makes racist jokes, swears in every sentence, thinks and acts like he is at the center of the universe, and so on. Even if this game is produced in the United States, due to the fact that the whole world has now been made interconnected and interdependent, it easily spreads and influences other unconscious peoples. A child in Jakarta, Stockholm, or Prague begins to use the exact same sayings and do the exact same actions born of Brooklyn streets, Californian frat parties, and Los Angeles gambling centers. The result is that even the culture of a completely different country on the other side of the world ends up becoming American; the narrator in the game becomes the very thing children dream of, teenagers chase after, and adults turn into reality.