Quotes About Exaggeration

The Reformation happened for a reason! Still, the danger for many Protestants is to assume that the church had little to no understanding of the Pauline gospel for its first 1,500 years. Such a judgment is a gross exaggeration.

perfectly awful things. Farces,—that's what they are!

El apego es una actitud que sobrestima las cualidades de un objeto o una persona y después se aferra a ella. En otras palabras, proyectamos sobre las personas y los objetos cualidades que no poseen, o exageramos las que poseen. El apego es una visión poco realista y por ello nos causa confusión.

You just can't live in Florida without a pool. It's a necessity, like air conditioning. Or a bidet. Florida is America's bidet.

She blew her nose like a British ambulance, and her sob story had more twists than a dragon parade in Chinatown.

There is no cannibalism in the British navy, absolutely none, and when I say none, I mean there is a certain amount.

It's nonsense to say money doesn't buy happiness, but people exaggerate the extent to which more money can buy more happiness.

Why, did you know that if a beaver two feet long with a tail a foot and a half long can build a dam twelve feet high and six feet wide in two days, all you would need to build Boulder Dam is a beaver sixty-eight feet long with a fifty-one-foot tail? Where would you find a beaver that big? grumbled the Humbug as his pencil point snapped. I'm sure I don't know, he replied, but if you did, you'd certainly know what to do with him.

The dumbing down of America is proceeding apace. Juster's allegorical monsters have become all too real. The Demons of Ignorance, the Gross Exaggeration (whose wicked teeth were made "only to mangle the truth"), and the shabby Threadbare Excuse are inside the walls of the Kingdom of Wisdom, while the Gorgons of Hate and Malice, the Overbearing Know-it-all, and most especially the Triple Demons of Compromise are already established in high office all over the world.

Whenever I find myself talking of the beauty and the poetry of the Bosphorus and Istanbul's dark streets, a voice inside me warns against exaggeration, a tendency perhaps motivated by a wish not to acknowledge the lack of beauty in my own life. If I see my city as beautiful and bewitching, then my life must be so too. A

Love is a gross exaggeration of the difference between one person and everybody else.

But beauty, real beauty, ends where an intellectual expression begins. Intellect is in itself a mode of exaggeration, and destroys the harmony of any face.

But beauty, real beauty, ends where an intellectual expression begins. Intellect is in itself a mode of exaggeration, and destroys the harmony of any face. The moment one sits down to think, one becomes all nose, or all forehead, or something horrid. Look at the successful men in any of the learned professions. How perfectly hideous they are! Except, of course, in the Church. But then in the Church they don't think.

Mesdames, un conseil. Si vous cherchez un homme beau, riche et intelligent... Prenez-en trois ! lol

It's what endures through one's life that matters; my own life matters to me, in its long continuance and development. But what do the occasional connections matter? And the occasional sexual connections especially! If people don't exaggerate them ridiculously, they pass like the mating of the birds. And so they should. What does it matter? It's the life-long companionship that matters. It's the living together from day to day, not the sleeping together once or twice.

Of the human form especially, it is so great it must never be made ridiculous . . . Exaggerations will be revenged in human physiology.

Like the boy who cried wolf, or the football coach whose pep talks wear thin, the pope or president who turns every cause into a holy one, every enemy into a Hitler, every conflict into a genocide, may soon find his audience rolling its eyes and sinking into the very cynicism he hopes to surmount.

The teller of a mirthful tale has latitude allowed him. We are content with less than absolute truth.

If his nose were a tail he would be the perfect image of a sow's rear end.

I don't exaggerate - I just remember big

Scarce any tale was sooner heard than told; And all who told it added something new, And all who hear'd it made enlargements too, In ev'ry ear it spread, on ev'ry tongue it grew.

Every vice is only an exaggeration of a necessary and virtuous function.

Worry often gives a small thing a big shadow.

Every man sees in his relatives, and especially in his cousins, a series of grotesque caricatures of himself.