A truth is sometimes told in public, but almost always by accident.
To a quite unwreckable Lie,
To a most impeccable Lie!
To a water-tight, fire-proof, angle-iron, sunk-hinge, time-lock, steel-faced Lie!
Not a private hansom Lie,
But a pair-and-brougham Lie,
Not a little-place-at-Tooting, but a country-house-with-shooting
And a ring-fence-deer-park Lie.
“Be honest”: An injunction to lie.
A little truth, hard-won, can last a man for life. It is lies and nonsense for which a tolerance soon becomes a taste, a taste an appetite, and an appetite at last an insatiable craving.
To learn the status of an identity, count how many people fake it.
It isn’t true.
It doesn’t matter if it’s true.
No one should talk about it.
Why are you talking about it?
The more obvious the truth, the more severely its utterance is punished.
For those who flatter us we have many nasty names, but never liar.
The idea that smoke implies fire cannot survive a professional class of industrious smoke merchants.
Group differences never reflect on the individual, only the other members of the group.
The in-group and out-group are praised and blamed by the same people for exactly the same policies, and the bulk of American political commentary consists of party flacks pointing this out about the flacks of the other party.