Quotes About Truth

It's about time people told the truth about beautiful women. They do not shimmer down staircases. They do not descend, as was once supposed, from on high, attached to nothing other than wings. Clara was from somewhere. She had roots.

you go back and back and back and it's still easier to find the correct Hoover bag than to find one pure person, one pure faith, on the globe. Do you think anybody is English? Really English? It's a fairy-tale!

our memories are getting more beautiful and less real every day.

These are old secrets. They will come out like wisdom teeth when the time is right.)

So now I started playing hardball; now I picked the Dictaphone up and demanded to know about the shrapnel, for Harvey has some shrapnel in his groin, I know he does, and he knows I know. A doctor found it in a routine X-ray in 1991, forty-seven years after Harvey thought it had been removed. I was sixteen at the time, EMF had a hit with "Unbelievable" and I was wearing harem pants. If

It just goes to show,' said Alsana, revealing her English tongue, "you go back and back and back and it's still easier to find the correct Hoover bag than to find one pure person, one pure faith, on the globe.

And it's time people told the truth about beautiful women. They do not shimmer down staircases. They do not descend, as was once supposed, from on high, attached to nothing other than wings.

But i cannot be worrying-worrying all the time about the *truth*. I have to worry about the truth that can be *lived with*.

They'd met people like me before. They knew how little reality we can take.  Ã¢â'¬Â¢ Ã¢â'¬Â¢ Ã¢â'¬Â¢

And perhaps for my mother this dream was the truth, and just by dreaming it she felt she had brought it to pass.

That is a common mistake. The truth does not depend on what you read.

saw all my years at once, but they were not piled up on each other, experience after experience, building into something of substance—the opposite. A truth was being revealed to me: that I had always tried to attach myself to the light of other people, that I had never had any light of my own. I experienced myself as a kind of shadow.

Don't give me face! How you be offended? You know! Is truth!

The only thing to see is the obligatory third-world Coke billboard, ironic in exact proportion to the distance from its proper American context. This one says COKE—MAKE IT REAL. Just after the Coke sign there is a contrary sign, an indication that irony is not a currency in Liberia. It is worn by a girl who leans against the exit in a T-shirt that says THE TRUTH MUST BE TOLD.

Public art claiming to represent our collective memory is just as often a work of historical erasure and political manipulation. It is just as often the violent inscription of myth over truth, a form of "over-writing"—one story overlaid and thus obscuring another—modeled in three dimensions

De fapt, în mintea mea, era în acelaÈ™i timp pe de-a-ntregul adev?rat È™i evident o minciun?, È™i poate numai copiii sunt în stare s? accepte asemenea adev?ruri cu dou? feÈ›e.

My children know the truth about me but still tolerate me, so far.

Prove to me that you are right. Prove to me that you are more right than God. Nothing on earth would do it. Because Ryan didn't believe in or care about anything on earth.

I think great novels free us into an understanding that the tension between true/not true might in fact be liveable, might not have to be judged and immediately neutralized in the court of public opinion or in the oppressive conservatism of our social lives.

But Archie did not pluck Clara Bowden from a vacuum. And it's about time people told the truth about beautiful women. They do not shimmer down staircases. They do not descend, as was once supposed, from on high, attached to nothing other than wings. Clara was from somewhere. She had roots.

When everyone is determined to present someone as a monster, there are two possibilities: either he is a saint or they are not telling the whole story.

les livres sont des miroirs,et l`on n y voit que ce qu`on porte en soi-meme.

Mes suvokiame, koks godulys slepiasi širdyje, tik tada, kai išgirstame skambant sidabr? kišen?je

Ten ?wiat nie zginie od bomby atomowej, jak prorokuj? gazety, ale umrze ze ?miechu, ze strywalizowania, z obracania wszystkiego w ?art, na domiar z?ego w kiepski ?art.