Quotes About Deception

Interesting when someone wants to play you but then upset when you put an end to being played.

I'm not upset that you lied to me, I'm upset that from now on I can't believe you.

Don't lose who you are, in the blur of the stars, seeing is deceiving, dreaming is believing, it's okay not to be okay.

I guess I was so blinded by who I wanted you to be, that I didn't see who you really were.

Gilberte belonged, during those years at least, to the most widespread variety of human ostriches, the kind that bury their heads not in the hope of not being seen, which they consider highly improbable, but in the hope of not seeing that they can be seen, which seems to them something to the good and enables them to leave the rest to chance.

This was all the more dangerous in that my nature has always made me more open to the world of the possible than to that of real-life contingencies. This approach helps one to understand the human soul, but one runs the risk of being deceived by individuals.

Obviously, we prefer to be praised rather than insulted and still more when a woman we love deceives us, what would we not give that it should be otherwise. But the resentment of the affront, the pain of the abandonment would in that event have been worlds we should never have known, the discovery of which, painful as it may be for the man, is precious for the artist. In spite of himself and of themselves, the mischievous and the ungrateful must figure in his work.

We lie all our life long, especially indeed, perhaps only, to those people who love us.

Marcel's attempts to interpret Albertine are constantly deflected—by Aimé's unreliable letters, by Albertine's misinterpreted telegrams, by Marcel's failure to recognize Gilberte at the Guermantes. All of these misreadings could be seen as part of a general comedy or tragedy of social misunderstanding and psychological failure to grasp the nature of other people, as well as one's own self.

We come to its aid; we falsify it by memory and by suggestion;

Yes, yes, yes, yes, I understand all that," with a precision and a tone of intelligence which for some time deceived me; but other people, as we get to know them, are like a metal dipped in an acid bath, and we see them gradually lose their good qualities (and their bad qualities too, at times

Belki de, diyordum kendi kendime, M. de Charlus'ün sap?kl???n?n ona kad?nca bir hassasiyet, bir zihinsel incelik kazand?rmas? gibi, Albertine'in de iyi yürekli, samimi tav?rlar?, onunla bir erkek arkada?la kurulan vefal? ve k?s?tlamas?z dostlu?u ya??yormu?um yan?lg?s?n? yaratan davran??lar?, gelecekteki ac?lar?m?n sebebi olan sap?kl???ndan kaynaklan?yordu.

But we lied to each other, Robert and I, as in every conversation when one friend is genuinely anxious to help another who is desperately in love. The friend who is being counsellor, prop, comforter, may pity the other's distress but cannot share it, and the kinder he is to him the more he has to lie.

even while deceiving him, she loved him. How often we sacrifice the fulfillment of a possible happiness to our impatience for an immediate pleasure!

Swann immediately recognized this statement as one of those fragments of true fact with which liars, when caught unprepared, console themselves by introducing into the composition of the falsehood they are inventing,

the superficial charm, the servile chatter that makes a favorable impression on a visitor, but that often cloaks an ineducable incompetence.

With Albertine, I felt that I would never learn anything, would never succeed in unraveling this tangled multiplicity of authentic details and untruthful facts. And that it would always be thus, unless I were to put her in prison (but people escape) up until the end.

it appears that vice is far more common than one has been led to believe.

For the most dangerous of all forms of concealment is that of the crime itself in the mind of the guilty party. His permanent consciousness of it prevents him from imagining how generally it is unknown, how readily a complete lie would be accepted, and on the other hand from realising at what degree of truth other people will detect, in words which he believes to be innocent, a confession.

But normally, when Albertine was sleeping, she seemed to have recovered her innocence. In the position where I had placed her, but which in sleep she quickly made her own, she seemed to be trusting herself to me. Her face had lost any expression of deviousness or vulgarity, and when she raised her arm toward me or laid her hand upon me, each of us seemed entirely given up to the other, indissolubly joined.

A vicious person, always affecting the same air of virtue before people whom he is anxious to keep from having any suspicion of his vices, has no register, no gauge at hand from which he may ascertain how far those vices (their continuous growth being imperceptible by himself) have gradually segregated him from the normal ways of life

That fellow Argencourt is well born but ill bred, a worse-than-second-rate diplomat, a loathsome husband and a womanizer, a double-faced stage character. He's one of those men who are incapable of understanding but perfectly capable of destroying the high things in life.

Choderlos de Laclos,

These accounts helped my imagination, in after years, to take the line of supposing that Albertine might, instead of being a good girl, have had the same immorality, the same faculty of deception as a reformed prostitute, and I thought of all the sufferings that would in that case have been in store for me had I ever really been her lover