Quotes About Deception

He sounded genuine, but Myron knew that meant nothing. People were amazing liars.

Those who claim they can spot a lie are usually just fooled with greater conviction.

Everyone looks happy," he'd said to Corinne. "Oh, not you too." "What?" "Everyone looks happy on Facebook," Corinne said. "It's like a compilation of your life's greatest hits.

Myron likes to say that even the ugliest truth is better than the prettiest of lies.

Ma Parker.' 'Milton Berle.' 'Louie the Lilac.' 'Liberace.' 'Chandell the Great.' 'And?' Win looked puzzled. 'And what?' 'What other criminal did Liberace play?

Cat fish? A cat fish is a person who pretends to be someone thay're not online, especially in romantic relationships. Her voice was flat, matter-of-fact. She needed that now. She needed to spout facts and figures and definitions and not feel a damn thing. Someone took your pictures and created an online profile for you and put it on a singles site. Two women who fell for the catfish-you are missing.

Dimonte spit into the can again, trying hard to cover up his obvious body language. "We're still working on it." "Uh, let's pretend for a brief moment that I'm not a mentally dehydrated numb nut.

Esperanza said, "Some bottled blond with a bottled tan is down here to see you.

According to Vada

He looks deep into my eyes and I see clarity, or maybe that is one of the things we make ourselves believe at the end. A final false comfort.

BITCHES LIE! Normally Matt would not stop and study something like this. Today he did. The letters were red and slanted. Even if you couldn't read, you could feel the rage here. Matt wondered about the creator—what inspired him to write this. He wondered if this act of vandalism had diluted the creator's wrath—or been the first step toward greater destruction. He

Gavin gestured toward the capsule. "I was a little surprised we found your place so easily. I figured you'd set up decoys. You ever read about the Ghost Army in World War Two?" Wilde had. "The Twenty-Third Headquarters Special Troops.

What about Gloria Katz and Susan Milano?" Myron asked. "Where are they?" Cole smiled without mirth or humor. Myron saw the missing teeth and wondered if they were part of the disguise or something more sinister. "I'll tell you about them another time," he said. Myron

the Ghost Army

Adam expected Mayor Gusherowski to look like a fat-cat politico fresh off the graft train—soft build, ruddy complexion, practiced smile, maybe a pinkie ring—and in this particular case, Adam was not disappointed. Adam wondered whether Gusherowski had always looked like a poster boy for corrupt politicians or if, over his years of "service," it had just become part of his DNA. Three

Buddy Ray just smiled at me. If the cracked teeth or blood was bothering him, he didn't show it. The smile had nothing behind it. No mirth, no joy, no soul. It was the scariest smile I had ever seen. "The

this. Evil exists because an airheaded bimbo, who started life as a man's rib, got tricked into eating a piece of bad fruit by a talking reptile.

who always had a beautiful girl on his arm. You get used to lying, Myron. It gets easier, you know what I mean? The lies become a sort of second reality.

It's the devil—he gets ahold of you. He pokes and prods until he finds your weakness and then, see, he wiggles right through your skin and gets into your bloodstream. Could be through drink. Could be through gambling. Could be through a virus, like cancer or something. Or the devil could be in the smack, the rock, the meth, whatever. It's all the devil in different forms.

The ugly truth was better than the fanciful lie.

I shook my head. "And I thought you were a genius when I saw your paintings." "Really?" She seemed caught off guard by the compliment. "Really." She cleared her throat. "And now that you see how deceptive I can be?" "I think you're a diabolical genius." Natalie

It isn't about guilt. You had a doubt. You had your head turned. You wondered about the what-if. You're not the first person to feel these things. You either find your way through it or you don't. But in the end, Corinne didn't give you that chance. She chose to trick you and live a lie. I'm not defending or condemning you. Every marriage is its own story. But you didn't see the light. You had someone shine a flashlight in your eyes." "Maybe

Memories aren't kept on some microchip in the skull or filed away in a cabinet somewhere deep in our cranium. Memories are something we reconstruct and piece together. They are fragments we manufacture to create what we think occurred or even simply hope to be true. In short, our memories are rarely accurate. They are biased reenactments. Shorter still: We all see what we want to see.

Foot traffic was picking up. The girl who'd hurled the crushed can was now making out with her target. Ah, the French. A traffic officer started gesturing for a white van to stop blocking traffic. I turned and waited for Terese to answer. She put down her coffee. "I can't imagine." But there was a catch in her throat. A tell, if you were playing cards with her. She wasn't lying. I was pretty sure of that. But she wasn't telling me everything either.