Quotes About Deception

You two start on home, Daisy,' said Tom. 'In Mr Gatsby's car.' She looked at Tom, alarmed now, but he insisted with magnanimous scorn. 'Go on. He won't annoy you. I think he realises that his presumptuous little flirtation is over.

him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward. Not

affectations conceal something eventually, even though they don't in the beginning.

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It's always a delusion when I see what you don't want me to see.

You think people are some kind of pure, white feathered birds flying in the clouds. They're not. They're pigs and they love to wallow in the mud and dirt.

His motto: "Screw the little people." He had lied before, and he would lie again. Ethics were for suckers.

King Lear, having been in power for decades, can no longer hear anything but flattery, banishing the one person—his own daughter Cordelia—who dares to speak to him truthfully.

That's the thing with betrayal- it's always the people you love.

Show the politicians a picture of a rat, and they immediately identify.

The plain man's house was palatial, even by the

She was too stupid to pull off something like that. "You're

Les meten malas ideas, y como son jóvenes, caen en la trampa. Luego se creen unos héroes porque llevan pistola. Y no se dan cuenta de que, a cambio de nada, porque al final no hay más premio que la cárcel o la tumba, han dejado el trabajo, la familia y los amigos. Lo han dejado todo para hacer lo que les mandan cuatro aprovechados. Y para romperles la vida a otras personas, dejando viudas y huérfanos por las esquinas.

Así se manipula a un hombre y se fabrica un héroe.

The inventor of the mirror poisoned the human heart.

O poeta é um fingidor. Finge tão completamente Que chega a fingir que é dor A dor que deveras sente.

Everything is theater.

I am still obsessed with creating a false world, and will be until I die.

Let us not be deceived by hope, because it betrays, or by love, because it grows weary, or by life, because it satiates but does not sate, or even by death, because it brings more than you want and less than you expect.

Autopsychography The poet is a man who feigns And feigns so thoroughly, at last He manages to feign as pain The pain he really feels, And those who read what once he wrote Feel clearly, in the pain they read, Neither of the pains he felt, Only a pain they cannot sense. And thus, around its jolting track There runs, to keep our reason busy, The circling clockwork train of ours That men agree to call a heart.

With slight misconceptions of reality we fabricate our hopes and beliefs, and we live off crusts that we call cakes, like poor children who make-believe they're happy.

And when the lie begins to give us pleasure, let us speak the truth in order to lie to the lie.

We all love each other, and the lie is the kiss we exchange.

There is no body or truth we possess, nor even any illusion. We are phantoms made of lies. Shadows of illusions, our lives are hollow on both the outside and the inside.