Quotes About Pretense

Why does the rest of the world put up with the hypocrisy, the need to put a happy face on sorrow, the need to keep on keeping on?... I don't know the answer, I know only that I can't.

You'll never know who you are unless you shed who you pretend to be.

We violated each other's boundaries with verbal missiles of anger disguised in the pretense of "just kidding.

The silence encompassing the feeling so juvenile, veiling everything but a sham smile.

Fine. Such a stupid word really. It feels empty and weightless. It's the kind of word you use to hide the truth.

We are hell different but vanity keeps us stuck.

Mom puts on a smile that looks like it belongs on somebody else's face.

You cry in your room. I cry in my room. Mom cries in Mom's room. And in the morning everyone pretends like they never cried once in their life.

Being with her was like being backstage during an amateurish, ridiculous play.

I was afraid of the creatures who masqueraded as people.

Sometimes, though, you make a pact with yourself. I'll pretend there's nothing wrong if you pretend there's nothing wrong. It's called denial, and it's one of the strongest pacts in the world. Just ask all those people who were still drinking champagne while the Titanic went down.

The two of them playact with each other, pretending to be cordial, but only so it will make the final betrayal even sweeter.

The smile on my face is only there to mask what I'm feeling inside.

finge estarlo, por política y cuestiones de casta.

I didn't like parties.I didn't know how to dance and people frightened me, especially people at parties. They attempted to be sexy and gay and witty and although they hoped they were good at it, they weren 't. They were bad at it. Their trying so hard only made it worse.

I lapsed into my pathetic cut-off period. Often with humans, both good and bad, my senses simply shut off, they get tired, I give up. I am polite. I nod. I pretend to understand because I don't want anybody to be hurt. That is the one weakness that has lead me into the most trouble. Trying to be kind to others I often get my soul shredded into a kind of spiritual pasta. No matter. My brain shuts off. I listen. I respond. And they are too dumb to know that I am not there.

Then came the Christmas party. That was December 24th. There were to be drinks, food, music, dancing. I didn't like parties. I didn't know how to dance and people frightened me, especially people at parties. They attempted to be sexy and gay and witty and although they hoped they were good at it, they weren't. They were bad at it. Their trying so hard only made it worse.

I went into the men's room and stared in the mirror at my face in disgust. I looked like I knew something, but it was a lie, I was a fake and there's nothing worse in the world than when a man suddenly realizes and admits to himself that he's a phoney, after spending all his time up to then trying to convince himself that he wasn't. I stared at all the sinks and pipes and bowls and I felt like them, worse than them: I'd rather be them.

no hay gente feliz? —hay mucha gente que finge ser feliz. —¿por qué? —porque están avergonzados y asustados y no tienen el valor de admitirlo. —¿tú estás asustado? —yo sólo tengo el valor de admitirlo contigo... estoy tan asustado y tengo tanto miedo, mamá, que podría morirme en este mismo instante.

It occurred to me that everybody suffered continually, including those who pretended they didn't.

zimboe—a zombie with no self-awareness, but programmed to claim to be aware in an attempt to deceive the truly conscious beings around it.

I'm embarrassed that people will know that I can't ride a bicycle. For years, I have been feigning bad ankles and saying I wasn't in the mood for a bike ride.

Each of them lived in a fear of discovery; each of them who was able built up his own defenses of swagger, pretense, and loud assertion—the great masculine flower of gentleness, courage, and honor died in a foul tangle. The great clan of go-getter was emergent in young boys—big in voice, violent in threat, withered and pale at heart—the "He-men" were on the rails.

he smelled like somebody trying to smell like somebody else.