Quotes About Denial

There is no hypocrisy so great as the words which we say to ourselves, I wish to know the worst! At heart we do not wish it at all. We have a dreadful fear of knowing it. Agony is mingled with a dim effort not to see the end. We do not own it to ourselves, but we would draw back if we dared; and when we have advanced, we reproach ourselves for having done so.

There is, we are aware, a philosophy that denies the infinite. There is also a philosophy, classified as pathologic, that denies the sun; this philosophy is called blindness.

He sleeps although so much he was denied. He lived and when his dear love left him died. It happened of itself, in the easy way that in the morning night time follows day

There is, as we know, a philosophy which denies the infinite. There is also a philosophy, pathologically classified, which denies the sun; this philosophy is called blindness.

What is passion? It is surely the becoming of a person. . . . In passion, the body and the spirit seek expression . . . The more extreme and the more expressed that passion is, the more unbearable does life seem without it. It reminds us that if passion dies or is denied, we are partly dead and that soon, come what may, we will be wholly so.

Two choices: ask for honesty and try to roll with unwanted truths or stick your head in the sand and be lied to.

She tried to take strength from that, to truly believe it, but hope was becoming difficult to hold on to. Each passing day had sanded her down, weakened the walls of her denial; in places, fear called itself truth and poked through.

It's not my fault

By the end of the first year of that first Bush presidency, Sununu had almost single-handedly halted the political momentum in Washington, turned climate change into a partisan issue, and put denial of the science on its way toward Republican orthodoxy.

Those who hate most fervently must have once loved deeply; those who want to deny the world must have once embraced what they now set on fire.

Those who hate so fervently, must have once loved deeply; those who want to deny the world, must have once embraced what they now set on fire.

Here's what I think the truth is: We are all addicts of fossil fuels in a state of denial, about to face cold turkey.

Un día hablamos del paraíso, ¿no? Tú dijiste que no creías ni en el otro mundo ni en el paraíso, ¿te acuerdas? -Sí, me acuerdo. -Si la muerte tiene algún sentido, ¿no crees que es incongruente negar la existencia del otro mundo y del paraíso? -¿Por qué? -Porque al morir todo acaba, ¿no? Y si no existe un después, es imposible que la muerte tenga sentido...

The malleability of truth was another disorienting thing that had crept into his world. There were hours of video and thousands of pages of documents demonstrating Barnett's history of opposing U.S. operations in the Middle East. But it didn't matter. All she had to do was get on TV and deny it. For her supporters, history would be erased.

Faith, thought Eszter . . . is not a matter of believing something, but believing that somehow things could be different; in the same way, music was not the articulation of some better part of ourselves, or a reference to some notion of a better world, but a disguising of the fact of our irredeemable selves and the sorry state of the world, but no, not merely a disguising but a complete, twisted denial of such facts: it was a cure that did not work, a barbiturate that functioned as an opiate.

Whoever pretends not to believe in ghosts of any sort, lies to his own heart. Every man is haunted by ghosts... thought most of us (poets excepted) are unwilling to confess the acquaintance.

What we call "normal" is a product of repression, denial, splitting, projection, introjection and other forms of destructive action on experience. It is radically estranged from the structure of being. The more one sees this, the more senseless it is to continue with generalized descriptions of supposedly specifically schizoid, schizophrenic, hysterical "mechanisms."

Jace likes to pretend that everyone isn't talking about him, even when he knows they are.

You don't believe me?" Jace asked. "Fine. Go ahead. Kiss me right now." Alec stared at him in horror. "Exactly. Despite my staggering good lucks, you actually don't like me that way.

You have a dark heart in you, Valentine's daughter," he said. "You just won't admit it. And if you want Jace, you had better accept it. Because he belongs to me now.

That's right. Act like I rejected you . It's not like you tried to kill me or anything.

Do you want any soup?" "No," said Jace. "Do you think Hodge will want any soup?" "No one wants any soup." " I want some soup," Simon said. "No you dont," said Jace. "You just want to sleep with Isabelle.

Will," she said softly, sleepily. "Last night--" You were kind to me, she was going to say. Thank you. The glare from his blue eyes stabbed through her. "There was no last night," he said through his teeth. At that, she sat up straight, almost awake. "Oh, truly? We just went right from one afternoon on through till the next morning? How odd no one else remarked on it. I should think it some miracle, a day with no night--

It was hard to live normally when you were constantly pretending you didn't see what was going on in front of your face.