Quotes About Deception

He felt her there, he saw her without opening his eyes, her hair burnt by chemicals to a brittle straw, her eyes with a kind of cataract unseen but suspect far behind the pupils, the reddened pouting lips, the body as thin as a praying mantis from dieting, and her flesh like white bacon.

Odio la astucia cuando uno no se siente realmente astuto, ni quiere serlo. No puedo enorgullecerme de ir espiando por ahí y jactarme de que llevo a cabo grandes planes. Odio pensar que estoy cumpliendo con mi deber cuando no estoy seguro de que sea así.

You can't build a house without nails and wood. If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides to a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none.

Any man is insane who thinks he can fool the government.

qué piensa el Sabueso allá abajo, toda la noche? ¿Somos nosotros los que lo animamos realmente? Me da frío. –Sólo piensa lo que queremos que piense. –Sería triste –dijo Montag en voz baja–, pues sólo ponemos en él ideas de caza, persecución y muerte. Qué lástima si eso es todo lo que sabe.

If you don't want a house built, hide the nails and wood. If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides to a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none.

You can't build a house without nails and wood. If you don't want a house built, hide the nails and wood. If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides to a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none.

Now, look, since when did you think being good meant being happy?" "Since always." "Since now learn otherwise. Sometimes the man who looks happiest in town, with the biggest smile, is the one carrying the biggest load of sin. There are smiles and smiles; learn to tell the dark variety from the light. The seal-barker, the laugh-shouter, half the time he's covering up. He's had his fun and he's guilty. And men do love sin

They were hopelessly caught in a mire of pretty words, which they seemed to believe themselves.

Words, as is well known, are the great foes of reality.

It is my belief no man ever understands quite his own artful dodges to escape from the grim shadow of self-knowledge.

Vanity plays lurid tricks with our memory, and the truth of every passion wants some pretence to make it live.

The man who says that he has no illusions has at least that one.

I let him run on, this papier-mache Mephistopheles, and it seemed to me that if I tried I could poke my forefinger through him, and would find nothing inside but a little loose dirt, maybe.

There is a taint of death, a flavor of mortality in lies,—which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world—what I want to forget.

You know I hate, detest, and can't bear a lie, not because I am straighter than the rest of us, but simply because it appals me. There is a taint of death, a flavour of mortality in lies—which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world—what I want to forget. It makes me miserable and sick, like biting something rotten would do. Temperament, I suppose.

Vosotros sabéis que odio, detesto, que me resulta intolerable la mentira, no porque sea más recto que los demás, sino porque sencillamente me espanta. Hay un tinte de muerte, un sabor de mortalidad en la mentira que es exactamente lo que más odio y detesto en el mundo, lo que quiero olvidar. Me hace sentir desgraciado y enfermo, como la mordedura de algo corrupto.

There is a taint of death, a flavour of mortality in lies--which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world--what I want to forget.

You know I hate, detest, and can't bear a lie, not because I am straighter than the rest of us, but simply because it appalls me. There is a taint of death, a flavor of mortality in lies,—which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world—what I want to forget. It makes me miserable and sick, like biting something rotten would do. Temperament, I suppose.

Is there a spot on earth where such a man is unknown, an ominous survival testifying to the eternal fitness of lies and impudence?

It was unreal as everything else--as the philanthropic pretense of the whole concern, as their government, as their show of work.

There is a taint of death, a flavor of morality in lies,-which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world-what I want to forget.

agent was lying flushed and insensible; the other, bent over his books, was making correct entries of perfectly correct transactions;

There is a taint of death, a flavour of mortality in lies