What is another word for low life?

Pronunciation: [lˈə͡ʊ lˈa͡ɪf] (IPA)

The term "low life" is a derogatory term referring to someone who is deemed undesirable or disreputable. There are a variety of synonyms that can be used to describe individuals who embody this characteristic. For instance, a low life may be referred to as a scoundrel, a rascal, a miscreant, or a ne'er-do-well. Other terms that can be used to describe low-lifes include degenerate, sleazy, and vile. No matter the word that is used to describe these individuals, it is important to remember that everyone has value and potential for change. Instead of labeling people, it is important to focus on supporting and empowering individuals to reach their full potential.

What are the hypernyms for Low life?

A hypernym is a word with a broad meaning that encompasses more specific words called hyponyms.

What are the opposite words for low life?

The term "low life" typically refers to a person who is considered to have low moral standards or is deemed disreputable. A few antonyms for this derogatory term include "high life," "upstanding," "honorable," "respectable," "dignified," and "prestigious." These words signify a person who is considered to be of good reputation and high social standing. Someone who is honorable is considered to be honest and ethical in their actions, while a prestigious person is esteemed and respected by others. On the other hand, the term "low life" is used to describe a person who is vulgar, dishonest, and morally corrupt; the opposite traits are associated with the antonyms mentioned above.

What are the antonyms for Low life?

Famous quotes with Low life

  • It wasn't glamorous in my day. In the regions, reporters were seen as such low life that they didn't merit their name in the Radio Times. Now people are interested in being famous. I never gave it a thought.
    Kate Adie
  • It was a bright September afternoon, and the streets of New York were brilliant with moving men.... He was pushed toward the ticket-office with the others, and felt in his pocket for the new five-dollar bill he had hoarded.... When at last he realized that he had paid five dollars to enter he knew not what, he stood stock-still amazed.... John... sat in a half-maze minding the scene about him; the delicate beauty of the hall, the faint perfume, the moving myriad of men, the rich clothing and low hum of talking seemed all a part of a world so different from his, so strangely more beautiful than anything he had known, that he sat in dreamland, and started when, after a hush, rose high and clear the music of Lohengrin's swan. The infinite beauty of the wail lingered and swept through every muscle of his frame, and put it all a-tune. He closed his eyes and grasped the elbows of the chair, touching unwittingly the lady's arm. And the lady drew away. A deep longing swelled in all his heart to rise with that clear music out of the dirt and dust of that low life that held him prisoned and befouled. If he could only live up in the free air where birds sang and setting suns had no touch of blood! Who had called him to be the slave and butt of all?... If he but had some master-work, some life-service, hard, aye, bitter hard, but without the cringing and sickening servility.... When at last a soft sorrow crept across the violins, there came to him the vision of a far-off home — the great eyes of his sister, and the dark drawn face of his mother.... It left John sitting so silent and rapt that he did not for some time notice the usher tapping him lightly on the shoulder and saying politely, 'will you step this way please sir?'... The manager was sorry, very very sorry — but he explained that some mistake had been made in selling the gentleman a seat already disposed of; he would refund the money, of course... before he had finished John was gone, walking hurriedly across the square... and as he passed the park he buttoned his coat and said, 'John Jones you're a natural-born fool.' Then he went to his lodgings and wrote a letter, and tore it up; he wrote another, and threw it in the fire....
    W. E. B. Du Bois
  • I will find you there where our low life heightens, Where the door of the Wonder again unbars, Where the old love lures and the old fire whitens, In the Stars behind the stars.
    Edwin Markham

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