Quotes About Truth

How wise of the founders to hide a kernel of truth within something so absurd. Who among the rational would search for it there?

Common sense tells us that the things of the earth exist only a little, and that true reality is only in dreams.

Imagination is the queen of truth, and possibility is one of the regions of truth. She is positively akin to infinity.

The artist, the true artist, the true poet, should paint only in accordance with what he sees or feels. He must be really faithful to his own nature. He must avoid, like death itself, the temptation of borrowing the eyes or feelings of another man, however great, for in that case the production he gave us would be a pack of lies, relatively to himself, not realities.

Nous avons, il est vrai, nations corrompues, Aux peuples anciens des beautés incomnues..

Even if it were proven that God didn't exist, Religion would still be Saintly and Divine.

La poésie est ce qui existe de plus réel, c'est ce qui est complètement vrai dans un autre monde .

Înger al frumuseÈ›ii,È™tii feÈ›ele zbârcite, ?i groaza b?trâneÈ›ii È™i zbuciumul cumplit De-a mai citi în ochii ce cu-ochii i-am sorbit, Dezgustu-ascuns c?-atâtea iubiri au fost jertfite? Înger al frumuseÈ›ii,È™tii feÈ›ele zbârcite?

Quien solo bebe agua, oculta algún secreto a quienes le rodean.

De ahí que Stendhal, un espíritu impertinente, burlón, incluso odioso, se acercara más que muchos otros a la verdad al decir que «Lo bello no es sino la promesa de la felicidad». Sin duda esta definición sobrepasa su objetivo; somete lo bello al ideal infinitamente variable de la felicidad; despoja con excesiva ligereza lo bello de su carácter aristocrático; pero tiene el gran mérito de alejarse decididamente del error de los académicos.

Mes chers frères, n'oubliez jamais, quand vous entendrez vanter le progrès des lumières, que la plus belle des ruses du Diable est de vous persuader qu'il n'existe pas !

Poetry is what happens when nothing else can.

great writers are indecent people they live unfairly saving the best part for paper. good human beings save the world so that bastards like me can keep creating art, become immortal. if you read this after I am dead it means I made it.

she' mad but she' magic. there' no lie in her fire.

The more crap you believe, the better off you are.

if it doesn't come bursting out of you in spite of everything, don't do it. unless it comes unasked out of your heart and your mind and your mouth and your gut, don't do it.

I thought you were sane, I said, but you're just as crazy as the rest of them.

morning night and noon the traffic moves through and the murder and treachery of friends and lovers and all the people move through you. pain is the joy of knowing the unkindest truth that arrives without warning. life is being alone death is being alone. even the fools weep morning night and noon.

So, that's what they wanted: lies. Beautiful lies. That's what they needed. People were fools. It was going to be easy for me.

I'm not the cruel type, but they are, and that's the secret.

I held her wrists and then I got it through the eyes: hatred, centuries deep and true. I was wrong and graceless and sick. all the things I had learned had been wasted. there was no creature living as foul as I and all my poems were false.

Why do we embroider everything we say with special emphasis when all we really need to do is simply say what needs to he said? Of course the fact is that there is very little that needs to be said.

But then if you lied to a man about his talent just because he was sitting across from you, that was the most unforgivable lie of them all, because that was telling him to go on, to continue which was the worst way for a man without real talent to waste his life, finally. But many people did just that, friends and relatives mostly.

I was only photographing in words the reality of it all.