Luxury is a state of wealth and comfort, often through the ownership and enjoyment of things that are expensive and unnecessary for survival.
- There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ouselves we feel that no one else has the right to blame us.
Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical QuotationsEdit
- Quotes reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 484-85.
- Blesses his stars, and thinks it luxury.
- Joseph Addison, Cato, A Tragedy (1713), Act I, scene 4.
- To treat a poor wretch with a bottle of Burgundy, and fill his snuff-box, is like giving a pair of laced ruffles to a man that has never a shirt on his back.
- Tom Brown, Laconics.
- Sofas 'twas half a sin to sit upon,
So costly were they; carpets, every stitch
Of workmanship so rare, they make you wish
You could glide o'er them like a golden fish.
- Blest hour! It was a luxury—to be!
- Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Reflections on having left a Place of Retirement, line 43.
- O Luxury! thou curst by Heaven's decree.
- Oliver Goldsmith, The Deserted Village (1770), line 385.
- Such dainties to them, their health it might hurt:
It's like sending them ruffles, when wanting a shirt.
- Oliver Goldsmith, Haunch of Venison.
- Then there is that glorious Epicurean paradox, uttered by my friend, the Historian in one of his flashing moments: "Give us the luxuries of life, and we will dispense with its necessaries."
- Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr., The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table (1858), VI.
- Fell luxury! more perilous to youth
Than storms or quicksands, poverty or chains.
- Hannah More, Belshazzar.
- Luxury and dissipation, soft and gentle as their approaches are, and silently as they throw their silken chains about the heart, enslave it more than the most active and turbulent vices.
- Hannah More, Essays, Dissipation.
- On his weary couch
Fat Luxury, sick of the night's debauch,
Lay groaning, fretful at the obtrusive beam
That through his lattice peeped derisively.
- Robert Pollok, Course of Time (1827), Book VII, line 69.
- Luxury is an enticing pleasure, a bastard mirth, which hath honey in her mouth, gall in her heart, and a sting in her tail.
- Francis Quarles, Emblems, Book I, Hugo.
- Rings put upon his fingers,
A most delicious banquet by his bed,
And brave attendants near him when he wakes,
Would not the beggar then forget himself?
- Like sending them ruffles, when wanting a shirt.
- Falsely luxurious, will not man awake?
- James Thomson, The Seasons, Summer (1727), line 67.