Quotes About Truth

Her father told her she was pretty, but all fathers said that. Grandma Howard told her pretty on the outside didn't particularly matter. Pretty on the inside is what mattered to the good Lord.

Truth shall spring out of the earth; and righteousness shall look down from heaven. Yea, the LORD shall give that which is good.

She also knew that the story you made up in your mind was rarely the real story.

The naked truth is always better than the best-dressed lie.

Rose-colored glasses are never made in bifocals because nobody wants to read the small print in dreams.

Ontologies are accessible only if we engage how a category such as race is secured and made credible and on which its effects rely. These need not be mutually exclusive analytical strategies.15 Here I ask the reader to reconsider how "racial regimes of truth" and our historiographic narratives of them have produced recurrent declarations of "new" racisms.

Each certitude is only sure because of the support offered by unexplored ground.—Michel Foucault, The Politics of Truth, 1997

She catches sight of herself in the mirror. Go in fear of hyperbole)

Sylvie had read somewhere that the more times a story was told, the less accurate it became. Humans were prone to exaggeration; they leaned away from the parts of the narrative they found boring and leaned into the exciting spots. Details and timelines changed over years of repetition. The story became more myth and less true. Sylvie thought about how she and William rarely told their story and felt pleased; by not being shared, their love story remained intact.

I'll do this," John says. "I'll let you know what's out there, within limits. But I want you to understand that there can't be information about you--that is true--that you don't already know. Your life takes place in your skin. No one else knows a goddamn thing, and the Internet is full of cowboys and sad people making stuff up." He pauses. "I love the Internet, or at least I used to, but it's not where you go for the truth.

He's winded by the sentence, as if the truth has taken something from him.

I love the Internet, or at least I used to, but it's not where you go for the truth.

If you live long enough, everything is complicated.

I want you to understand that there can't be information about you—that is true—that you don't already know. Your life takes place in your skin. No one else knows a goddamn thing, and the Internet is full of cowboys and sad people making stuff up.

But I want you to understand that there can't be information about you—that is true—that you don't already know. Your life takes place in your skin. No one else knows a goddamn thing,

I love the Internet, or at least I used to, but it's not where you go for the truth." Edward almost asks, Where do you go for the truth? But the question feels vast, unspeakable in his throat, so instead he says good night and goes next door.

What do you want? Sylvie wouldn't have asked this question before, because she would have been afraid of the answer, but she wanted to be deeply and truly herself and to experience the world in the deepest and truest way.

can't bear to pretend happiness." Sylvie

Virtue and taste are nearly the same, for virtue is little more than active taste, and the most delicate affections of each combine in real love. How then are we to look for love in great cities, where selfishness, dissipation, and insincerity supply the place of tenderness, simplicity and truth?

Dear! Dear! To see how gentlefolks can afford to throw away their happiness! Now, if you were poor people, there would be none of this. To talk of unworthiness, and not caring about one another, when I know there are not such a kind-hearted lady and gentlemen in the whole province, nor any that love one another half so well, if truth was spoken!

It is well-known, that a weak mind, rather than have such a suffering, will turn aside, and take shelter in willing credulity to its first opinion; a strong one, meeting the worst at once, will proceed straight forward, and, freeing itself from an uncertainty, will do both that, which is just towards others, and, in the end, best for its own ease.

Why, that is just what he would say, Signor; but bad deeds will out, whether people like them to be known or not. This man comes to our town sometimes to market, and nobody knew where he came from for a long while; so they set themselves to work and found it out at last.

There can be no degradation, my Lord, where there is no vice," replied Vivaldi; "and there are instances, pardon me, my Lord, there are some few instances in which it is virtuous to disobey.

You can put lipstick and earrings on a hog and call it Monique, but it's still a pig.