I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the Heart's affections and the truth of the Imagination.
I quote others only in order the better to express myself.
How hurtful it can be to deny one's true self and live a life of lies just to appease others.
Never hide things from hardcore thinkers. They get more aggravated, more provoked by confusion than the most painful truths.
I can't believe I said it out loud. The truth doesn't set you free, you know. It makes you feel awkward and embarrassed and defenseless and red in the face and horrified and petrified and vulnerable. But free? I don't feel free. I feel like shit.
I believe that truth has only one face: that of a violent contradiction.
I have survived. I am here. Confused, screwed up, but here. So, how can I find my way? Is there a chain saw of the soul, an ax I can take to my memories or fears?
There is no greatness where there is not simplicity, goodness, and truth.
The Bible has noble poetry in it... and some good morals and a wealth of obscenity, and upwards of a thousand lies.
Wanting to be liked can get in the way of truth.
Boredom: the desire for desires.
Anyone who is capable of getting themselves made President should on no account be allowed to do the job.
The truth doesn't always set you free; people prefer to believe prettier, neatley wrapped lies
Live your truth. Express your love. Share your enthusiasm. Take action towards your dreams. Walk your talk. Dance and sing to your music. Embrace your blessings. Make today worth remembering.
I am not bound to win, but I am bound to be true. I am not bound to succeed, but I am bound to live up to what light I have.
The only way you can write the truth is to assume that what you set down will never be read. Not by any other person, and not even by yourself at some later date. Otherwise you begin excusing yourself. You must see the writing as emerging like a long scroll of ink from the index finger of your right hand; you must see your left hand erasing it.
You never know how much you really believe anything until its truth or falsehood becomes a matter of life and death to you.
Seeking what is true is not seeking what is desirable.
Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised or a little mistaken.
History, Stephen said, is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.