Quotes About Deception

The truth was, it was myself I couldn't trust, my eyes from betraying my heart.

People are vicious. They will turn on you.

How things appear is only the thin, papery outer skin of the onion. Of course, when you cut open the onion, your eyes will sting and water, and then you can't see at all. You're lucky if you don't slice your finger.

So I thought you would respond better to the lie than the truth," he

The war had made everyone a liar, thought Milan bitterly. The war had made it so that one could not distinguish at all between what was true and what false, between victims and perpetrators, or between perpetrators and perpetrators, or victims and victims.

A man who is so cunning that he is sometimes stupid.

If the retreat house was a trap, it was a very nice one.

The worst things were cowardly acts of betrayal. Betraying a friend and in the process betraying yourself. He knew all about that.

I believed you, just for a second, until I looked into your eyes...

Why would he want to put a stain on a white sheet? Why would he want to taint a love that has never been crushed? Why would he want to see her intoxicated then leave her in the morning to fend for herself? Why would he want to ruin innocence?

The woman whose behavior indicates that she will make a scene if she is told the truth asks to be deceived.

The man who enlists into the service for a consideration, and deserts the moment he receives his money but to repeat the play, is bad enough; but the men who manipulate the grand machine and who simply make the bounty-jumper their agent in an outrageous fraud are far worse. They are beneath the worms that crawl in the dark hidden places of earth.

That until now she was a Christmas tree that had been decorated by someone who hated Christmas.

I do not scruple to employ mendacity and a fictitious appearance of female incompetence when the occasion demands it.

she arrived. For only someone with a heart as dark as mine could do something so evil to a girl with a heart as light as Aurora's.

It was like we were all so busy trying to be happy or saying we were happy, but underneath there was nothing but bitterness, the kind that could only be bled out in ink, in unspoken word.

But I know a lie when I hear one.

It's like I'm living inside a mirror. I see things, I do things, but they are just surfaces and nothing more.

No, it can't," I say. "It's— it's the kind of thing you want to say, that you want to believe, but it isn't— I know isn't true. I thought my heart knew things, but what I thought was real turned out to be a lie, and now I don't—

I will find him one, a beautiful little stupid girl, as dumb as the one at 623 Daisy Lane used to be and show her to him. He will want her, with her little limbs and happy face and solid, live flesh. She will become the new Alice and he will want her so much he will forget all about me. Kill me to teach her a lesson, probably, and then move on. Yes, that is what will happen. What must happen.

Day deceives, but at night no one is safe from hallucinations.

Nature, perpetual whore, distracts with the immediate.

To deny love, and deceive it meanly by pretending that what is unconsummated remains eternal, or that love sublimated reaches highest to heavenly love, is repulsive, as the hypocrite's face is repulsive when placed too near the truth.

Black Hawk was taken on a tour of cities after his capture. I read his autobiography as soon as I could. And I remembered the line he said: "How smooth must be the language of the whites, when they can make right look like wrong, and wrong like right.