Quotes About Deception

killer inside me

She has the devil in her eye And holds an angel in her heart. She'll get you wrapped around her little finger And tear your mind a million miles apart. Her kiss is a cup of sunshine.

Gimmicks? Here we go again. I'm tired of people sayin' we rely on gimmicks. What is this? The world is nothin' but a big gimmick isn't it? Wars, napalm bombs and all that. People being burned-up on TV...Yes, we do.

O amor só mente para dizer maior verdade.

O senhor sabe: sertão é onde manda quem é forte, com as astúcias. Deus mesmo, quando vier, que venha armado! E bala é um pedacinhozinho de metal...

What makes Iago evil? Some people ask. I never ask.

Because when we start deceiving ourselves into thinking not that we want something or need something, not that it is a pragmatic necessity for us to have it, but that it is a moral imperative that we have it, then is when we join the fashionable madmen, and then is when the thin whine of hysteria is heard in the land, and then is when we are in bad trouble. And I suspect we are already there.

Similarly, perhaps it never did snow that August in Vermont; perhaps there never were flurries in the night wind, and maybe no one else felt the ground hardening and summer already dead even as we pretended to bask in it, but that was how it felt to me, and it might as well have snowed, could have snowed, did snow.

There could be no snakes in Quintana Roo's garden. Only later did I see that I had been raising her as a doll.

There could be no snake in Quntana Roo's garden. Only later did I see that I had been raising her as a doll.

Most of our platitudes notwithstanding, self-deception remains the most difficult deception.

The apparent ease of California life is an illusion, and those who believe the illusion real live here in only the most temporary way.

We tell ourselves stories in order to live. The princess is caged in the consulate. The man with the candy will lead the children into the sea. The naked woman on the ledge outside the window on the sixteenth floor is a victim of accidie, or the naked woman is an exhibitionist, and it would be "interesting" to know which.

Marriage is the classic betrayal

Why did I write it down? In order to remember, of course, but exactly what was it I wanted to remember? How much of it actually happened? Did any of it? Why do I keep a notebook at all? It is easy to deceive oneself on all those scores. The impulse to write things down is a peculiarly compulsive one, inexplicable to those who do not share it, useful only accidentally, only secondarily, in the way that any compulsion tries to justify itself.

On the drive back they told each other that it had been the wrong time, the wrong place, that it was bad because he had lied to arrange it, that it would be all right another time, idyllic later.

When we start deceiving ourselves into thinking not that we want something or need something, not that it is a pragmatic necessity for us to have it, but that it is a moral imperative that we have it, then is when we join the fashionable madmen, and then is when the thin whine of hysteria is heard in the land, and then is when we are in bad trouble. And I suspect we are already there.

Las Vegas seems to exist only in the eye of the beholder.

So, in the end, we were hypocrites for kindness. Both of us. Standing with my bouquet of orange blossoms, I thought: I'm happy but I'm in disguise. But probably many people feel that at their weddings.

He had never lied to me, as far as I knew. But did I know anything?

If I ever see a man in a rug again, I'm not going to believe a single word he says! A man who lies about having hair will lie about anything.

Unless he has his own selfish interests at heart. He wants you to get so mad at Norman that you'll fall into his arms on the rebound. Either that, or . . ." Andrea faltered and Hannah stepped in with a possible explanation. "Either that or Mike has the IQ of a small kitchen appliance.

But I rather thought--I mean, I heard you'd killed Balder the Fair. I never did, snapped Loki crossly. Well, no one ever proved I did. What happened to the presumption of innocence? Besides, he was supposed to be invulnerable. Was it my fault that he wasn't?

Loki, that's me. Loki, the Light-Bringer, the misunderstood, the elusive, the handsome and modest hero of this particular tissue of lies.