Quotes About Masking

People see me laughing and telling jokes, but they had no idea after the show was over, I had no joy in my life, in my heart.

So much of my life has been about self-effacement, pretense, masquerading, concealment, and indirection.

And I. I too. Quite collected at cocktail parties, meanwhile in my head I'm undergoing open-heart surgery.

The idea of the mask in any scenario has always fascinated me. Not only does it protect identity, it also allows one to hide.

Most affectations conceal something eventually, even though they don't in the beginning.

The bored haughty face that she turned to the world concealed something--most affectations conceal something eventually, even though they don't in the beginning--

The room rang full of her artificial laughter.

affectations conceal something eventually, even though they don't in the beginning.

I'm good at disguising my feelings.

You never know who is walking around with a fever who took some Tylenol to make themselves feel better.

I grew up with a lot of people whose whole prime mover was dad rage. I never really had it - it always seemed so empty. It always seemed to be masking something else, which was really their own lack of initiative.

Confronting a dangerous pandemic requires containing spread wherever it is reasonably possible. Sensible measures such as universal masking, testing and widespread and rapid contact tracing can help. The best way to protect the vulnerable is to try to protect everyone.

I benefit from the Mr. Potato Head syndrome. Put a wig and a nose and glasses on me, and I disappear.

Since I think I am very boring in normal life, I tend to hide behind all these exciting characters, making people believe that I am someone else entirely. That feeling is very powerful.

como dos personas normales o como dos personas que fingen ser normales y a fuerza de fingirlo de alguna manera lo son o llegan a serlo

His smile was constant, which was a signal—you only smile when something makes you smile. If you smile all the time, you're hiding something.

Emily looked into his eyes. They were blank, unreadable. That was the worst kind of person, the scariest—the one who'd learned to keep his feelings out of his eyes. Or who didn't feel anything at all. Emily had known people like that; they were the destroyers. They took things—everything you worked for, all your silly dreams—and smashed them beneath their boots for no reason at all.

I should have been sending up flares, instead I was offering smiles.

All the worse for the undeniable talent which hides the evil so subtly and makes the danger so delightful.

My experience has been that altruism is invariably a means to conceal one's personal failures.

Power is tolerable only on condition that it mask a substantial part of itself. Its success is proportional to its ability to hide its own mechanisms.

Success has a great tendency to conceal and throw a veil over the evil deeds of men.

Success is a rare paint, hides all the ugliness.

A secret is always hard, a stone wedged just beneath the skin. A constant reminder that won't go away, a secret invokes longing; it takes on a life of its own. In order to keep one well, certain things have to be done backward: Laughter instead of tears, a slow walk when the urge is to run. Always deny what is most important, at least in the presence of others.