facade

The problem with social media is that it's great for your ego, but terrible for your sanity.

Mrs. Baker's social manner was almost robotlike in its perfection. All her comments and remarks were natural, normal, everyday currency, but one had a suspicion that the whole thing was like an actor playing a part for perhaps the seven hundredth time. It was an automatic performance, completely divorced from what Mrs. Baker might really have been thinking or feeling.

__ill mirrors were Invented, Face was not You, Not Even part of Your Performance.

How is it that some celebrities, whom the average person would believe to have all the popularity a human being could want, still admit to feeling lonely? It is quite naive to assume that popularity is the remedy for loneliness. Loneliness does not necessarily equal physical solitude, it is the inability to be oneself and rightfully represented as oneself.

A homely face does not guarantee a homely character. Appearance is the body, character is the spirit, and the soul bears the most vital qualities.

Will you let me go for Christ's sake? Will you take that phony dream and burn it before something happens?

People love the facade of a perfection relationship because perfection seems alluring. What they don__ realize is perfection is terrifying.

To the short-sighted, through the fog, God must be a monster.

Façade. One, simple word. But, very complex portents. It__ like living a life of half-dead. You are neither fully inside a grave, nor completely out of it, beyond the oppressive calmness of the slabs, tombstones and plaques. There is one solace though, you soon discover that you are not alone in the vast graveyard of the half-dead. This is what Kamini soon realized when she plunged herself back into the world that the destiny had conspired her to inherit.

A man's work reveals him. In social intercourse he gives you the surface that he wishes the world to accept, but in his book or his picture the real man delivers himself defenceless. No affectation of peculiarity can conceal a commonplace mind. No one can produce the most casual work without disclosing the innermost secrets of his soul.

it's through the simple things in life, through its games, when our minds mature the most and we grow knowledgeable. It's also when the cloth masks of our outer, false personalities are torn asunder, and we are able to see every last blemish of a man's genuine character that they hide beneath... no matter how dark or obscene it may be.

The truth has not so much set us free as it has ripped away a carefully constructed facade, leaving us naked to begin again.

My books have very few villains pretending to be righteous, but they are filled with good people who have pretended to be villains so well that they believe it themselves. This is how I like to view reality.

Distance gives a clearer view. You can't see the facade of a building while staying inside.

my mother, poor fish,wanting to be happy, beaten two or three times aweek, telling me to be happy: "Henry, smile!why don't you ever smile?"and then she would smile, to show me how, and it was thesaddest smile I ever saw

Because sometimes people who seem goodend up being not as good as you might have hoped.

Oh, I loathe weddings. I loathe sitting down and participating in inane conversations with proud parents and smug couples who all look like they might secretly hate each other.

Nightmares are seldom a foreshadowing of real events, but always a showing of real fears.