Lied Quotes (displaying: 1 - 30 of 124 quotes )
The great enemy of truth is very often not the lie--deliberate, contrived and dishonest--but the myth--persistent, persuasive and unrealistic. Too often we hold fast to the cliches of our forebears. We subject all facts to a prefabricated set of interpretations. We enjoy the comfort of opinion without the discomfort of thought.
When I was a boy, I dreamt that I could fly, he announces. When I woke, I couldn't... or so the maester said. But what if he lied? What do you mean? Perhaps we can fly. All of us. How will we ever know unless we leap from some tall tower? No man ever truly knows what he can do unless he dares to leap. There is the window. Leap. What do you want? The world.
And she did not miss his presence so much as his voice on the phone. Even being lied to constantly, though hardly like love, was sustained attention; he must care about her to fabricate so elaborately and over such a long stretch of time. His deceit was a form of tribute to the importance of their marriage.
The art of losing isn't hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intentto be lost that their loss is no disaster. Lose something every day. Accept the flusterof lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn't hard to master. Then practice losing farther, losing faster: places, and names, and where it was you meantto travel. None of these will bring disaster. I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, ornext-to-last, of three loved houses went. The art of losing isn't hard to master. I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.---Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture. I love) I shan't have lied. It's evidentthe art of losing's not too hard to masterthough it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
True story This morning I jumped on my horse And went for a ride, And some wild outlaws chased me And shot me in the side. So I crawled into a wildcats cave To find a place to hide But some pirates found me sleeping there And soon they had me tied To a pole and built a fire Under me---I almost cried Till a mermaid came and cut me loose And begged to be my bride So I said id come back Wednesday But I must admit I lied. Then I ran into a jungle swamp But I forgot my guide And I stepped into some quicksand And no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t get out, until I met A watersnake named Clyde Who pulled me to some cannibals Who planned to have me fried But an eagle came and swooped me up And through the air we flied But he dropped me in a boiling lake A thousand miles wide And you’ll never guess what I did then--- I DIED
It was Nurse Caroline who introduced Homer to young Dr. Harlow, who was in the throes of growing out his bangs; a cowlick persisted in making his forehead look meager; a floppy shelf of straw-colored hair gave Dr. Harlow’s eyes the constant anxiousness of someone peering from under the brim of a hat. ‘Oh yes, Wells – our ether expert,’ Dr. Harlow said snidely. ‘I grew up in an orphanage,’ said Homer Wells. ‘I did a lot of helping out around the hospital.’ ‘But surely you never administered any ether?’ said Dr. Harlow. ‘Surely not,’ lied Homer Wells. As Dr. Larch had discovered with the board of trustees, it was especially gratifying to lie to unlikable people.
The man who lies to himself can be more easily offended than anyone else. You know it is sometimes very pleasant to take offense, isn't it? A man may know that nobody has insulted him, but that he has invented the insult for himself, has lied and exaggerated to make it picturesque, has caught at a word and made a mountain out of a molehill--he knows that himself, yet he will be the first to take offense, and will revel in his resentment till he feels great pleasure in it.