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Class Divide Quotes

Browse 10 quotes about Class Divide.

Class Divide Quotes

“We treat politics as a sport, political parties as the teams we root for, and political leaders as our favorite sports stars. But we forget that politics is not an entertainment sport. In sports, rivalry between fans of opposing teams is "Them vs Us", but in politics such rivalry becomes "Us vs Us". Political outcomes have far greater effect on our life than sports outcomes. In a democracy, "we, the people" are supposed to be the kings, not the pawns. We are the examiners and watchdogs of the political system, not the fans. We should step back from our blind loyalty to a party, and start taking an educated stand. Instead of forming our opinions based on hearsay and emotions, we should form our opinions based on hard facts. The time has come to stop being loyal to any political party, and start being loyal to our country and its betterment.”

PhilosophyPoliticsDemocracyPolitical PhilosophyDemocratic SocietyClass WarfareClass Divide
Author:Shon Mehta
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“But in this case,” he continues, tracing the line of the plasterwork with one finger, “I feel that there is one cliché that sums up my position so admirably that it would be pure egotism to attempt a more interesting periphrasis. Plain speaking, therefore, there is to be. “There is undoubtedly a strong possibility, notwithstanding the vagaries of contingency and misfortune, that my son might have fallen—or might, we could say, have voluntarily jumped, in accordance with the ethical codes with which he has been brought up—for a play you have made with some success, although, as I am persuaded you would concede, very little originality.” Plain speaking if you’re Henry James, perhaps.”

HumorRelationshipsPowerMisogynyMenaceHenry JamesIn LawsClass DifferenceClass DividePlain SpeakingCircumlocutionJamesian
Book:The Bookstore
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“Ghost Wail Square by Stewart Stafford There's a place that canines shun, In The Witching Hour stark, Dogs wandering misty avenues, Flee from Pandora's Park. Nicknamed Ghost Wail Square, Once whispered as Harlot's Row, Twilight cobblestones flooded with blood, Extinguished collusion's glow. Blue bloodlust inflamed there, In scented carriages and filthy lanes, Carnivores at the butcher's block, As they scattered ill-gotten gains. At Devil's Hour, the horror peaks, Death rattle knocks on doors, As screams for mercy fill the air, No rescue missions for whores. A killer sheltered 'neath potent wings, A skittish stranger to the noose, Then sewn mouths shall speak, As festering skeletons slip loose. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”

GhostGhostsProstitutionJack The RipperSex WorkersRipperClass DivideRestless SpiritsThe Black DahliaYorkshire Ripper
Author:Stewart Stafford
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“The young ladies might behave like they were smooth and sealed as alabaster statues underneath their clothes, but then they would drop their soiled shifts on the bedchamber floor, to be whisked away and cleansed, and would thus reveal themselves to be the frail, leaking, forked bodily creatures that they really were. Perhaps that was why they spoke instructions at her from behind an embroidery hoop or over the top of a book: she had scrubbed away their sweat, their stains, their monthly blood; she knew they weren’t as rarefied as angels, and so they just couldn’t look her in the eye.”

ImperfectionRegency EraClass Divide
Book:Longbourn
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“She turned and walked towards Krupp. She moved like smoke from the end of a cigarette in a still room, languorous, smooth. Her beauty stopped the conversation of the few people she walked past. Eyes of envy, lust, admiration, longing, followed her every move as she glided through the sumptuously furnished, dimly lit Champagne Bar. Krupp realised she was moving through the room deliberately towards him. He held his breath again as she approached him. His heart thumped against his lungs, making it hard to breathe out. Krupp sat up and he gulped when she saw him and looked straight into his eyes. He felt a tingle up his spine as she seemed to float, slowly, like a ghostly spirit between the tables. He wondered if she was real or a spectre. This could not possibly be Freya, he thought, and yet there was something … She arrived at the table. She relaxed a knee. Their eyes met, a small smile on her lips. Krupp suddenly remembered his manners and stood, hauling himself up with the aid of his stick and the arm of the sofa. It could not have been an elegant move, he thought with annoyance. He should have remained seated. “May I join you?” she said in perfect German.”

Thought ProvokingGrippingReflectiveSecret SocietiesSocial ExpectationsClass DividePlot DrivenPower StrugglesDramatic ArcsRevenge Driven
Book:The Wasp Trap
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