Quotes About Lies

Telling the truth will lead you to freedom telling the lies will lead you to slavery.

some people no want to listen to the truth and like to believe in a beautiful dressed lie from the wrong person.

For one thing, telling a lie is like eating peanuts. One leads to another. In no time at all, you've gone through a bagful." He rinsed the razor under the tap. "Worst of all, you become a slave to something that isn't real.

Bravado may feel like a shield, but when you're telling yourself lies, it becomes a prison.

When a continent is poisoned by lies, truth must be an exile.

Lies beget lies," he said. "Until, one day, someone needs the truth." Palewski

Basta con introducir un poco de verdad en la mentira para que ésta no sólo resulte creíble, sino irrefutable.

Peace is a lie; there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength." The words came easily to Scourge; the mantra had been drilled into his brain during his training until it was second nature. "Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory my chains are broken.

If we are not careful, this false culture can dull our senses and lull us into a kind of trance, and we begin to exist in a nether world of attractive lies and half-truths.

Branwell told a cruel lie in silence.

The energy form that lies behind hostility and attack finds the presence of love absolutely intolerable. If

Ce qui m'affecte au plus profond, c'est qu'un vocabulaire trompeur remporte la victoire sur le vocabulaire normal. Le triomphe de la force est terrible; le triomphe de la force dans et par le mensonge est horrible.

The whole fabric of our religion is based on superstitious belief in lies that have been foisted upon us for ages by those directly above us, to whose personal profit and aggrandizement it was to have us continue to believe as they wished us to believe.

A smiling, bantering, humouring, watchful and incessant lie. A lie by day, a lie by night, a lie in every touch and every look; a lie in every caress and every quarrel; a lie in every word and in every silence.

What I cannot understand about the Russian," Roosevelt complained, "is the way he will lie when he knows perfectly well that you know he is lying.

Honey: I know these people ...

The idea of sin being able to deceive us, suppressing truth so that we believe a lie, should send shivers down our spines. It is one thing to deceive other people. That is scary enough. It is even more frightening when we realize that each lie we tell leaves us more self-deceived. All practiced sin teaches us to believe lies. WE don't often consider the boomerang effect of our deception. In the end it will get us.

Sin by its very nature is more often quiet and secretive than loud and public. For every overt episode of rage, there are dozens of jealousies, manipulations, white lies, and malicious thoughts, none of which immediately register on the conscience. And, according to Scripture, the greatest sin of all is even more covert: I do not love the Lord my God with my whole mind and heart. If our failure to consistently worship the true God is the key feature of sin, we are sinners all.

You believe lies about God. Guaranteed. You think he can't see all things; you think he doesn't care; you think that he reluctantly forgives; you think that he is far away; you think that he loves many people but not you. Don't assume that you know him. Read the Gospels.

Du joli, la passion dite amour. Si pas de jalousie, ennui. Si jalousie, enfer bestial. Elle une esclave, et lui une brute. Ignobles romanciers, bande de menteurs qui embellissaient la passion, en donnaient l'envie aux idiotes et aux idiots. Ignobles romanciers, fournisseurs et flagorneurs de la classe possédante. Et les idiotes aimaient ces sales mensonges, ces escroqueries, s'en nourissaient.

There has already been published by the bucketfuls such brazen lies and utter fictions about me that I would long since have gone to my grave if I had let myself pay attention to that.

Falsehood is invariably the child of fear in one form or another.

I'm a poet, and I like my lies the way my mother used to make them.

The liar looks up toward it, hoping against hope that the voices in his head have told him the truth.