Quotes
Quotes about Lies
Who reasons wisely is not therefore wise; His pride in reasoning, not in acting lies.
All is but a jest, all dust, all not worth two peason: For why in man's matters is neither rime nor reason. [Lat., Omnia sunt risus, sunt pulvis, et omnia nil sunt: Res hominum cunctae, nam ratione lies.]
What is a man born for but to be a reformer, a remaker of what has been made, a denouncer of lies, a restorer of truth and good?
Relativity applies to physics, not ethics.
Various kinds of ideas can be classified by their relationship to the authentication process. There are ideas systematically prepared for authentication ("theories"), ideas not derived from any systematic process ("visions"), ideas which could not survive any reasonable authentication process ("illusions"), ideas which exempt themselves from any authentication process ("myths"), ideas which have already passed authentication processes ("facts"), as well as ideas known to have failed- or certain to fail- such processes ("falsehoods" - both mistakes and lies).
The most costly of all follies is to believe passionately in the palpably not true. It is the chief occupation of mankind.
Thy deathbed is no lesser than thy land, Wherein thou liest in reputation sick; And thou, too careless patient as thou art, Committ'st thy anointed body to the cure Of those physicians that first wounded thee.
Not in rewards, but in the strength to strive, the blessing lies.
One does not lash what lies at a distance. The foibles that we ridicule must at least be a little bit our own. Only then will the work be a part of our own flesh. The garden must be weeded.
Now when the primrose makes a splendid show, And lilies face the March-winds in full blow, And humbler growths as moved with one desire Put on, to welcome spring, their best attire, Poor Robin is yet flowerless; but how gay With his red stalks upon this sunny day!
Love has features which pierce all hearts, he wears a bandage which conceals the faults of those beloved. He has wings, he comes quickly and flies away the same.
I am in Rome! Oft as the morning ray Visits these eyes, waking at once I cry, Whence this excess of joy? What has befallen me? And from within a thrilling voice replies, Thou art in Rome! A thousand busy thoughts Rush on my mind, a thousand images; And I spring up as girt to run a race!
Loveliest of lovely things are they On earth that soonest pass away. The rose that lives its little hour Is prized beyond the sculptured flower.
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
Here lies our mutton-looking king, Whose word no man relied on, Who never said a foolish thing No ever did a wise one.
Here lies our sovereign lord, the king, Whose word no man relives on, Who never said a foolish thing, And never did a wise one.
Like all the best families, we have our share of eccentricities, of impetuous and wayward youngsters and of family disagreements.
Prostrate the beauteous ruin lies; and all That shared its shelter, perish in its fall.
The rolling fictions grow in strength and size, Each author adding to the former lies.
Straightway throughout the Libyan cities flies rumor;--the report of evil things than which nothing is swifter; it flourishes by its very activity and gains new strength by its movements; small at first through fear, it soon raises itself aloft and sweeps onward along the earth. Yet its head reaches the clouds. . . . A huge and horrid monster covered with many feathers: and for every plume a sharp eye, for every pinion a biting tongue. Everywhere its voices sound, to everything its ears are open. [Lat., Extemplo Libyae magnas it Fama per urbes: Fama malum quo non velocius ullum; Mobilitate viget, viresque acquirit eundo; Parva metu primo; mox sese attollit in auras, Ingrediturque solo, et caput inter nubilia condit. . . . . Monstrum, horrendum ingens; cui quot sunt corpore plumae Tot vigiles oculi subter, mirabile dictu, Tot linquae, totidem ora sonant, tot subrigit aures.]
The rumor forthwith flies abroad, dispersed throughout the small town. [Lat., Fama volat parvam subito vulgata per urbem.]
Human salvation lies in the hands of the creatively maladjusted.
The salvation of mankind lies only in making everything the concern of all.
The salvation of this human world lies nowhere else than in the human heart, in the human power to reflect, in human meekness and human responsibility.
Satire lies about literary men while they live and eulogy lies about them when they die. [Fr., La satire ment sur les gens de lettres pendant leur vie, et l'eloge ment apres leur mort.]
