Quotes About Truth

Ain't no one ever told you yet? I recon I thought you've all figured out. - What? - That all this stuff about happy-endings is lies. The only ending in this world is death.

We are not wise enough, we adults, to know what book will be right for any child at any particular moment, but the richer the book, the more imaginative, the more emotionally true, the more beautiful the language, the better the chance that it will minister to a child's deep, inarticulate fears.

As I turn and walk toward Murray Hill and home and purring Phoebe, I suspect that we do not know any more than the people of the past did, but only think somewhat differently.

this, they've never felt that, they no longer feel anything, they don't count anymore. I think it's small-minded. I wish there were more people over sixty here, to tell you the truth.

thought of that image as I was looking across the table at Max, at him looking back at me, old me, much older me: fifty-six. Max was born in 1906 and thus had always been—would always be—younger than I, by six years if I lied about my age, as I always did, or by seven if I was honest, which I was only in the privacy of my mind.

and my men were in the film to grant it authenticity, yet somehow we were the least convincing thing in it. The whole experience was a pungent reminder—a reminder I didn't need—that in a contest against passion, truth always makes a poor showing.

The worst thing about Farrington's poem is that it presents the vast obscenity that was the Great War as a jolly adventure—but in fact any war story, no matter how unsparing or how true, warns against war only if its audience wants to be warned.

And he went on in his quiet voice with his eloquent interpretation of the ancient words: "For what if some did not believe? Shall their unbelief make the faith of God without effect? God forbid. Yea, let God be true, but every man a liar.

I have never hated the individual Jew -- yourself I have always cherished as a friend, but you will know that I speak in all honesty when I say I have loved you, not because of your race but in spite of it.

There seems to be something magical about printer's ink. Once people read a story in a newspaper, most of them believe that story is true, even if it's retracted.

T is not faces, not color, not appearnces that matter. - Soren

Sex. You can't lie to yourself sexually. If you don't want it, it's the most disgusting thing in the world.

She says her only wish is to get out of this country, where there is no life, no freedom. 'They have killed off beauty, and art, and literature and all that is beautiful and good in life. Press freedom? This is what they call press freedom! If someone has the courage to write things as they are, prison is the result, ' she says.

Inductive Bible study draws you into personal interaction with the Scripture and thus with the God of the Scriptures so that your beliefs are based on a prayerful understanding and legitimate interpretation of Scripture—truth that transforms you when you live by it.

my love cannot negate the words of my mouth and the righteousness I require.

She didn't. I hadn't seen or spoken to Hailey since I left Silence. He frowned. Then she made that stuff up? Nell sipped her coffee, then smiled. She always made stuff up, Max. Didn't you know? You're saying she was a liar? Sweet, friendly Hailey. So charming, so good-tempered. And she had a way about her, didn't she? A way of… getting people behind her. A way of making people believe her. Not exactly my strong suit, huh?

We should never, ever believe life - or history holds no surprises for us. That was lies arrogance. And arrogance can blind us to the truth. Which truth? Any truth. All truth. her voice was solemn

The worst kind of poison for despots: truth.

Knowledge is marvelous, but wisdom is even better.

One is what one is, and the dishonesty of hiding behind a degree, or a title, or any manner and collection of words, is still exactly that: dishonest.

379Knowledge is marvelous, but wisdom is even better.

Memory, I realize, can be an unreliable thing; often it is heavily coloured by the circumstances in which one remembers.

I think I hate Capaldi because deep down I suspect he may be right. That what he claims is true. That science has now proved beyond doubt there's nothing so unique about my daughter, nothing there our modern tools can't excavate, copy, transfer. That people have been living with one another all this time, centuries, loving and hating each other, and all on a mistaken premise. A kind of superstition we kept going while we didn't know better.

Yet are you so certain, good mistress, you wish to be free of this mist? Is it not better some things remain hidden from our minds?