Quotes About Deception

En el Sur os da vergüenza ser vírgenes. Jóvenes. Mayores. Todos mienten sobre eso. Porque para las mujeres significa menos -dijo padre. Decía que los hombres fueron los que inventaron la virginidad, no las mujeres.

Los hombres no son más que muñecos rellenos de aserrín recogido en los montones de basura donde todos los muñecos anteriores habían sido tirados.

Beneath the quilt she is no more than a bundle of rotten sticks

Ä°lk olarak Addie Bundren'?n yapt??? herhangi bir ÅŸeyi saklad???n? görüyordum, o Addie Bundren ki içinde yalan bulunan bir evrende yalandan baÅŸka hiçbir ÅŸeyin, yoksulluÄŸun bile, çok kötü ya da çok önemli olamayaca??n? öÄŸretmiÅŸti bize.

Then there is the human factor. As a variation on the old maxim has it, "Big waves are not measured in feet, but in increments of bullshit.

Big waves are not measured in feet, but in increments of bullshit." When

Money? in a voice that rustled.

Most people are clever because they don't know how to be honest.

His smile was the nightmare in my back pocket.(Speaking about Ronald Reagan)

What you need to remember, with these guys, is that they don't know they're con men. They're wildly overconfident. Omnipotence, omniscience--that's part of the mythology that surrounds the Special Forces....Your guy can walk in the door and promise training in something he personally doesn't know how to do, and not even realize he's bullshitting about his own capabilities. It's a special kind of gullibility....

Know what's worse than imaginary, Leon? What? Half-imaginary.

She held out her hands, palms up, the white fingers lightly spread, and with a barely audible click, ten double-edged, four-centimeter scalpel blades slid from their housings beneath the burgundy nails. She smiled. The blades slowly withdrew.

The dubious niche Case had carved for himself in the criminal ecology of Night City had been cut out with lies, scooped out a night at a time with betrayal.

But, Hubertus, Cayce offers, what if Dorothea is... Yes? He leans forward, palms flat on the table. A vicious lying cunt? Bigend giggles, a deeply alarming sound. Well, he says, we are in the business of advertising, after all. He smiles.

Something stilled the part of him that knitted narrative, that grew the underbrush of lies in which he lived.

it involved the idea that people who were genuinely dangerous might not need to exhibit the fact at all, and that the ability to conceal a threat made them even more dangerous.

Andrea maintained that men like Alain lied so constantly, so passionately, that some basic distinction had been lost. They were artists in their own right, Andrea said, intent on restructuring reality

Hubertus Bigend, a nominal Belgian who looks like Tom Cruise on a diet of virgins' blood and truffled chocolates.

It is an imitation more real somehow than that which it emulates.

Hackney, he thought irritably, glaring at it. Always gotten up as something it wasn't.

Shaylene had big hair without actually having it, Flynne's mother had once said. Something that came up through any remake, like marker ink through latex paint.

They both knew she knew this was bullshit, but she guessed that was the way it went, when somebody you knew killed some people and you didn't want them to get caught for it. They were teaching her the story as it needed to be told, and telling it to her in a way that wouldn't require her to tell anything but the truth about what they'd told her.

He wanted to explain how people were never quite what you thought they were.

The beast was harmless and horrible; and the news must reach the others as soon as possible.