Best 2699 quotes in «honesty quotes» category

Has that obscenely rich fucker upset you again?

Hard to trust honesty of inconsistent person.

Have you noticed how much lying we do in our relationships? We tell ourselves that it’s not lying or it is excusable for purposes of self-defense. How little we realise that every lie digs us deeper into a painful delusion and we end up building war zones, not love boats.

He accepted new ideas as readily as new trends. Knowing those worth it would last and the lessers will pass.

He came to chat with me the day of my being discharged, advising that I not stay at the dog fight until the last dog was dead. I was a kid and made little counsel. Now that I am a bigger kid, I see the value--belatedly--added. Yet I also see the loss of life in the protecting, first of all, of oneself. Better to give oneself away. Dead f*ck the dog and so on.

He gave up. No hint of ember behind his eyes nor life in his breath. He snipped the last, overstretched strand of hope, and nicked the strand of life by mistake. He did it with his hands.

He hated dishonesty-- or lack of courage-- more than anything.

...he'll come back. We all come back, Kate. These private little revolutions always die. The compromise is always made. In a peculiar way. Frank is right-- every man does have a star. The star of one's honesty. And you spend your life groping for it, but once it's out it never lights again. I don't think he went very far. He probably just wanted to be alone to watch his star go out.

...Helen sipped peppermint schnapps and considered the world made of her design. My religion is keeping peace, she thought. It hadn't begun that way, was nothing she'd planned, but now she saw that's how it was. I just ran a grocery, she thought. I don't want this. I ain't the one to make the world right.

Her words were slickly lacquered, dripping with venom that singed the air as they fell. She traced her tongue up my neck and whispered in a way that would shatter glass. "It's the words inbetween," she said, "those are the ones I truly mean." Then, her toes curled with the release of the truth she kept hidden.

He seemed about to go on in this strain, which was a favorite of his, but then recollected himself, and said wryly, "I reveal myself more with every word. I am honest, Natalie, and sometimes ashamed of it." "I always am, when I'm honest," Natalie said. "Are you?" he asked with interest. "Do you know when you're being honest?" "Usually," Natalie said. "If I'm surprised at myself for saying it thinking it, it's honest.

He sang softly, less with words and more with thought. She cradled his head, stitching together his fragmented heart.

He sank back into his black-and-white world, his immobile world of inanimate drawings that had been granted the secret of motion, his death-world with its hidden gift of life. But that life was a deeply ambiguous life, a conjurer's trick, a crafty illusion based on an accidental property of the retina, which retained an image for a fraction of a second after the image was no longer present. On this frail fact was erected the entire structure of the cinema, that colossal confidence game. The animated cartoon was a far more honest expression of the cinematic illusion than the so-called realistic film, because the cartoon reveled in its own illusory nature, exulted in the impossible--indeed it claimed the impossible as its own, exalted it as its own highest end, found in impossibility, in the negation of the actual, its profoundest reason for being. The animated cartoon was nothing but the poetry of the impossible--therein lay its exhilaration and its secret melancholy. For this willful violation of the actual, while it was an intoxicating release from the constriction of things, was at the same time nothing but a delusion, an attempt to outwit mortality. As such it was doomed to failure. And yet it was desperately important to smash through the constriction of the actual, to unhinge the universe and let the impossible stream in, because otherwise--well, otherwise the world was nothing but an editorial cartoon.

He spoke in polished honesty free of liar's filth. He said the hardest words with an unshakable voice, a wide smile, with fear and doubt freezing over his core. The truth was the best route, but the truth could always be costly... another truth. A sad truth.

He's not afraid of anything he feels. He's not afraid of saying it. He's only afraid of what happens when he does.

He that doth not as other men do, but endeavoureth that which ought to be done, shall thereby rather incur peril than preservation; for whoso laboureth to be sincerely perfect and good shall necessarily perish, living among men that are generally evil.

He was a musician of the best nature, with guitar string fingertips and soft flute lips that could tighten in a trumpet's purse. Every movement was perfect, every breath filled with purpose. Whether close or open, his eyes seeped ambition and his body burned with chaotic passion. I was his instrument and he played me so well. His fingers fashioned a tune of ecstasy while his lips felt the reed shudders of my skin. He stole my breath and made it his own, using my lips to create his climactic song. A symphony of electricity and orgasmic bliss, he played me so well his fingers never did miss. Half-circles and hooks with my parted lips as his speaker, I never knew another musician so ruthlessly eager. To finish his song, to hit every note, elongating the melody of every sound from the depths of my throat. He was ambitious, pushing my limits, tearing my reservations and destroying my thresholds, all I could do was phase in and out, my ears ringing from the ballad I was made to produce.

He was a man more concerned with the truth than his arrest quota, a philosophy that would often have him skate on thin ice with the higher ups.

He who says the truth is not necessarily truthful - On Honesty.

His eyes are covered by impermeable marble, a solidity that can never be breached. You think there is gold and warmth behind the facade of cold, but if only you could see your reflection in the marble. You would see how you burn, how brightly you glow, enough to incinerate anyone else whole.

His eyes searched hers. “I’d rather just be me. Feel comfortable in my own skin and be able to speak my mind without having to carry a damned thesaurus. Sure doesn’t seem worth giving up who you are to please others. Far as I’m concerned, they either like me or they don’t. Their choice.

Hiding the truth is as evil as feeding the lie grow tough muscles.

...his respect, hard enough to earn in the first place, was all but impossible to win back after it was lost.

Hollow Horn Bear knew that to be leader and adviser of his people he must be honest and reliable, and that his word once given in promise must never be taken back. He knew that he must be a man of will-power, standing for the right no matter what happened to him personally; that he must have strength of purpose, allowing no influence to turn him from doing what was best for the tribe. He must be willing to serve his people without thought of pay. He must be utterly unselfish and kind-hearted to the old and poor and stand ready to give to those in need. Above all, he must be unafraid to deal equal justice to all.

Honest dishonesty. That’s quite the oxymoron – but I like the originality that you’ve brought to bear in the art of rationalization. Maybe you should consider becoming a lawyer,” he added jokingly.

Honesty can be a dirty gift. It can muddy a sparkling stream of memories.

Honesty is one of the key elements to a great relationship. If you cannot be honest with your partner, stay single.

Honesty is the best policy. If I lose my honor, I lose myself.

Honesty is the most talked about, the most desired but, at same time, one of the rarest qualities in present day world.

Honesty, like any inclination, can become a ruling passion, a monomania almost.

Honesty. Sobriety. My virginity. No way to regain the first two, I almost gave away the last.

Honesty talks".

Honestly, I don’t really see an end in sight. Things have gotten so bad. If we want things to be normal, again, we’ll have to leave New York and go somewhere far away. Otherwise, this is probably how our lives are going to be for a long time.

Honestly, if I stay on this gruelling path, I'm going to end up as another suicide statistic.

Honest people never fear the truth.

Honesty and being honest are extinct and scarcity in the corrupt world of greedy, unscrupulous, god-syndrome politicians. ~ Angelica Hopes, Karmic Harvest Trilogy

Honesty can force any dysfunction in your life to the surface. Are you in an abusive relationship? A refusal to lie to others – How did you get that bruise? – would oblige you to come to grips with this situation very quickly. Do you have a problem with drugs or alcohol? Lying is the lifeblood of addiction. If we have no recourse to lies, our lives can unravel only so far without others noticing. Telling the truth can also reveal ways in which we want to grow but haven’t.

Honesty defines self respect.

Honesty hurts and depending on the situation you should really think twice about your words. They can be hurtful and have a bad influence. Once they leave your mouth they can cause allot of soul damage and heartache.

Honesty is doing what you know or believe is right. Integrity is doing what is right and truthful.

Honesty is the key to Happiness. Be always truthful to yourself, to your feelings, emotions, needs and desires & to others, no matter what!

Honesty is the rarest commodity in the 21st century. No one looks to the political class or journalists for truth these days. The average Joe seems to spend most of their time peddling a ludicrous, flawless Facebook version of their lives. The peer pressure of political correctness forgoes truth for the sake of groupthink. It seems that comedians and writers represent the last bastion of candour out there today.

Hope can be foolish or misguided, but there was no such thing as false hope. Hope was always true even when there was no evidence to support its claim.” - Liam

Honesty whispers, "Don't get pricked by the thorns of lie.

Hoping fast that my arrow's flight is steady and true, I need this, I need my arrow to find you, To pierce your skin and enter your undecided heart, Please, oh please, this can be our brand new start, Maybe it's not meant to be, Maybe my arrow will miss and strike a tree, But my love for you is strong, it guides my arrow, I cannot miss, the window to your heart is very narrow, It slams shut igniting embers and sparking fury spatter, To my heart and your window, we are known as 'shatter.

How can I stand before you in silent symbols with open palms?

Honest differences are often a healthy sign of progress.

Honest man get hated but he never get doubted.

Honesty and integrity are the yardsticks by which we measure our intrinsic value.

Honesty doesn't mean you reveal everything you discern and feel. That is why we have the word discretion...