Quotes About Deception

Language is a traitor, a double agent who sleeps across borders without warning in the dead of night. It is a heavy snowfall in a foreign country, which hides the shapes and contours of reality beneath a cloak of nebulous whiteness. It is a crippled dog, never quite able to perform the tricks we ask of it. It is a ginger biscuit, dunked for too long in the tea of our expectations, crumbling and dissolving into nothingness. It is a lost continent.

You shouldn't take notice of anything that Henry tells you, you know,' he now says, with a chilly smile. 'After all, he is a politician.

could have been chloral," Steve said. "Chloral hydrate. The stuff they use when they want to give somebody a mickey.

Godliness is more easily feigned in words than in actions

Everything he did was at least partial and often total bullshit" (402).

To paraphrase Frank Zappa, she'd thought it was a man she wanted, but instead it was a muffin.

He knows how love blinds people to the truth about the one they are in love with.

He operated by Old World rules, the blurring of right and wrong into whatever you could get away with;

She'd barely registered as a person at all. She'd been little more than an inconvenient object at the breakfast table, an annoying vase in the way of his sugar bowl, not even worth telling a decent lie to. Soon enough, when she'd lost her fat, she would have more ways to make him pay. For now, the sweetest punishment would be to say nothing, let him think she knew nothing, let him damn himself by telling further lies.

By the time she approached his room, her steps were brisk, her false self reassembled.

Happy people didn't tell lies.

Si uno dedica su existencia a gustar, y si adopta la imagen atractiva necesaria para ello, sea la que sea, se suele creer que uno ha desistido de ser querido por ser quien es en realidad. Y si uno consigue manipular a los demás para gustarles, será difícil no sentir cierto desprecio por esas personas, ya que han caído en el engaño.

I've learned not to trust what I see on television.

Mrs. Neverbody's Recipe for Making Crocodile Tears To a slice of hanky-panky Add some artificial cranky. Moisten well with canned boo-hoo. Flavor with a spoof or two. Drip this slowly—as it falls Roll it into little bawls. If you're careful, while they're cooling You can spread on only-fooling. (This recipe is not worthwhile Unless you are a crocodile.)

The world was ersatz and actual, forged and faked, by ourselves and unseen others. Daring to attempt to absolutely sort fake from real was a folly that would call down tigers or hiccups to cure us of our recklessness. The effort was doomed, for it too much pointed past the intimate boundaries of our necessary fictions.

You have to keep your mind as wide-open as your eyes, because almost nothing is what it seems.

Point is, people lie a lot. Sometimes out of habit. Not many people are good at telling the truth.

While it is always possible to wake a person who's sleeping, no amount of noise will wake a person who is pretending to be asleep.

She has become an expert at confusing what is with what was with what should be with what could be .

She] always knew he was a fiction but believed in him anyway.

Because sometimes people who seem good end up being not as good as you might have hoped.

It's always possible to wake someone from sleep, but no amount of noise will wake someone who is pretending to be asleep.

They reciprocated the great and saving lie--that our love for things is greater than our lover for our love for things--willfully playing the parts they wrote for themselves, willfully creating and believing fictions necessary for life.

We are being very nomadic with the truth, yes?