Quotes About Deception

come to see my rig for what it was: an elaborate contraption for deceiving my senses, to allow me to live in a world that didn't exist. Each component of my rig was a bar in the cell where I had willingly imprisoned myself.

I couldn't bear the idea that the girl with whom I was virtually smitten might actually be some middle-aged dude named Chuck, with back hair and male-pattern baldness.

That story you heard? About how we were all created by a super-powerful dude named God who lives up in the sky? Total bullshit. The whole God thing is actually an ancient fairy tale that people have been telling one another for thousands of years. We made it all up. Like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. "Oh, and by the way Ã¢â'¬Â¦ there's no Santa Claus or Easter Bunny. Also bullshit. Sorry, kid. Deal with it.

That's the first rule of online romances, pal. No one ever looks anything like their avatar.

Once we accept the common denominator of our own imperfection, once we begin to put into practice the belief that imperfection is the reality we have most in common with all other people, then the defenses that deceive us begin to fall away, and we can begin to see ourselves and others as we all really are.

Es la hora en que brillan las luces de los burdeles y las cantinas. La casa de Caifás está llena de gente. Las luces del palacio de Somoza están prendidas. Es la hora en que se reúnen los Consejos de Guerra y los técnicos en torturas bajan a las prisiones. La hora de los policías secretos y de los espías, cuando los ladrones y los adúlteros rondan las casas y se ocultan los cadáveres. Un bulto cae al agua.

Ä°fade özgürlüÄŸü bir mitten baÅŸka bir ÅŸey deÄŸil.

Die Sklaverei lässt sich bedeutend steigern, indem man ihr den Anschein der Freiheit gewährt.

Toutes ces filles lui paraissaient d'étranges fleurs, artificieuses, s'appliquant à attirer par une débauche de parfums et de couleurs des essaims d'insectes féconds.

La ricchezza addobba spazi che poi lascia vuoti

The treaty, though it has good points, is a vast trap.

Whether an honest performer wishes to convey the truth or whether a dishonest performer wishes to convey a falsehood, both must take care to enliven their performances with appropriate expressions, exclude from their performances expressions that might discredit the impression being fostered, and take care lest the audience impute unintended meanings.

Consciousness is a singular of which the plural is unknown; … there is only one thing and that, what seems to be a plurality, is merely a series of different aspects of this one thing, produced by a deception (the Indian MAYA); the same illusion is produced in a gallery of mirrors …

Chip recons that he is charming as hell, and who am I to poke holes in his theory. That means that sometimes lies leave his mouth dressed like truth. He just can't help it.

Though a child, I did not picture a monster—he was no creature all teeth, all vicious blue eyes behind mangled wire spectacles; his voice was not slow and reptilian, his hands not huge black claws. I knew the nature of evil; I knew its benign, easy face. He would be a man, simply.

Don't drink heavily at your enemy's table, especially when your enemy claims to be your friend.

Don't you go and dump reality on us like a garbage truck.

Povestea unui puÈ™ti cu o mâzg?litur? pe fa?? care aducea a musta??, care aproape a omorât un om cu o umbrel? care aducea a puÈ™c?, într-o operaÈ›iune secret? care aducea a r?zboi.

That's when he finally understood that of all the things the angel had told him, nothing was true. That he wasn't even an angel, just a liar with wings.

His whole body was completely still, except the wings, which were still fluttering a little, like when someone dies. That's when he finally understood that of all the things the angel had told him, nothing was true. That he wasn't even an angel, just a liar with wings.

There were lots of lies along the way in life. Lies without arms, lies that were ill, lies that did harm, lies that could kill. Lies on foot, or behind the wheel, black-tie lies, and lies that could steal.

Within our twenty-first century modes of communication, truth can be easily manipulated and framed to get the viewer of the information to receive it in a predetermined way, to elicit a desired spin of "truth." Turning on the light doesn't guarantee the clarifying of confusion anymore. If all of the media of our societal experience make us believe that a rope is a snake, then a rope becomes a snake, either in darkness or the light of day.

The place is unreal. The people are unreal. The flowers are unreal--they don't smell. The fruit is unreal. Even the streets and buildings are unreal. I always expected to hear a carpenter shout "Strike" and the whole place come down like a stage set. That's what Hollywood is--a set, a glaring, gaudy, nightmarish set erected in the desert.

Describe a circle, stroke its back and it turns vicious.