The prudent man is always sincere, and feels horror at the very thought of exposing himself to the disgrace which attends upon the detection of falsehood. But though always sincere, he is not always frank and open; and though he never tells any thing but the truth, he does not always think himself bound, when not properly called upon, to tell the whole truth. As he is cautious in his actions, so he is reserved in his speech; and never rashly or unnecessarily obtrudes his opinion concerning either things or persons.

A better man wouldn’t play this ‘sweethearts’ game with her when he knew very well it couldn’t lead to more.But he wasn’t a better man. He was Colin Sandhurst, reckless, incorrigible rogue—and damn it, he couldn’t resist. He wanted to amuse her, spoil her, feed her sweets and delicacies. Steal a kiss or two, when she wasn’t expecting it. He wanted to be a besotted young buck squiring his girl around the fair.In other words, he wanted to live honestly. Just for the day.

One percent of people will always be honest and never steal," the locksmith said. "Another one percent will always be dishonest and always try to pick your lock and steal your television. And the rest will be honest as long as the conditions are right - but if they are tempted enough, they'll be dishonest too. Locks won't protect you from the thieves, who can get in your house if they really want to. They will only protect you from the mostly honest people who might be tempted to try your door if it had no lock".

I swear that while I live I will do what little I can to preserve and to augment the liberties of man, woman, and child.It is a question of justice, of mercy, of honesty, of intellectual development. If there is a man in the world who is not willing to give to every human being every right he claims for himself, he is just so much nearer a barbarian than I am. It is a question of honesty. The man who is not willing to give to every other the same intellectual rights he claims for himself, is dishonest, selfish, and brutal.

Blame is the lie by which we convince ourselves that we are victims. It is the lie that robs us of our serenity, our generosity, our confidence, an our delight in life . . . For it is the act of blaming that can't co-exist with self-responsibility -- or with freedom from inner agitation and strained relationships. Abandon the practice of blaming, and we see the fear melt away that we have associated with being honest about ourselves and taking the full measure of responsibility for our emotional and spiritual condition.

Most of the people I worked with in my old job were pretty cool. We used to go out drinking after lights out and the less pleasant members of staff would be the topic of our pub discussions. We had a laugh. Nothing too damning. No one called anyone a cunt or anything, even behind their backs. We let off steam because it helped us deal with the fact that it was Monday and we’d still got four days of that shit left before our Saturday morning visits to the psychiatrist. One after the other…. same warm, leather seat.

I love you too much to lie to you, Lisey. I love you with all that passes for my heart. I suspect that kind of all-out love becomes a burden to a woman in time, but it's the only kind I have to give. I think we're going to be quite a wealthy couple in terms of money, but I'll almost certainly be an emotional pauper all my life. I've got the money coming, but as for the rest I've got just enough for you, and I won't ever dirty or dilute it with lies. Not with the words I say, not with the ones I hold back.

Obi-Wan's young face clouded. "Some secrets are best left concealed, Master." He shook his head. "Besides, why must you always be the one to do the uncovering? You know how the Council feels about these... detours. Perhaps, just once, the uncovering should be left to someone else."Qui-Gon looked suddenly sad. "No, Obi-Wan. Secrets must be exposed when found. Detours must be taken when encountered. And if you are the one who stands at the crossroads or the place of concealment, you must never leave it to another to act in your place.

A philosophical discussion ensued about right and wrong, and good and bad. Also about things to be ashamed of and things to be feel guilty about. Could anything carried out between two consensual adults be wrong? And why should they be embarrassed by something a loving partner wanted to try? Right then they made a pact to never lie to each other, and to live out their sexual fantasies together. If two intelligent, loving and happily married people couldn't be honest with each other about their most hidden sexual desires, then who could?

If I'm to have a character that others admire, I need to focus on developing that character. I need to make decisions that are honorable and honest. I need to focus on others rather than myself. I need to be consistent in my dealings with other (while being careful to avoid what Emerson called "a foolish consistency"). I must obey the calls of my religious beliefs. And I must be true to myself, my God, and others. I should never seek the admiration of others, but if I develop an honest, loving, caring character, the admiration will come.

Eden will stay with you." I glanced up at the blue-haired woman who watched us. "She promises to take good care of you. Right, Eden?"Eden nodded, curt and no-nonsense, a soldier to the bones.I glanced back at Angelina. "You trust her, don't you?"Angelina didn't turn her wide eyes away from me. I needed Angelina's answer. But then her eyes sparkled, ever so slightly, as she gave me her response, a barely perceptible nod.No one else could have possibly known how much meaning that single gesture held.Eden was honorable. Angelina had told me so.

If there is no honesty, there is no relationship. The only degree to which there is a relationship is the degree to which you are honest. Expressing your clear desires does not make you a dictator and you telling what you think, feel, and what you want or don’t want, is just called being honest. It doesn't control him at all. You’re trying to control others by withholding information by not getting involved and by not being honest. Withholding information is a form of manipulation. It is dishonest and it’s destructive to a relationship.

Literature for me… tries to heal the harm done by stories. (How much harm? Most of the atrocities of history have been created by stories, e.g., the Jews killed Jesus.) I follow Sartre that the freedom the author claims for herself must be shared with the reader. So that would mean that literature is stories that put themselves at the disposal of readers who want to heal themselves. Their healing power lies in their honesty, the freshness of their vision, the new and unexpected things they show, the increase in power and responsibility they give the reader.

I pity you Juliet. You don't know what love is. You think it's Valentine's Day, and weekends in Italy. You think it's drinking champagne in some expensive restaurant and being bought stupid bloody underwear. But that's just the trimmings. The decoration. They're just gestures. Without trust, and respect, and kindness, they don't mean shit. I thought love was about caring about someone day in and day out, about being there when it's rucking amazing and still wanting to be there when it feels like crap, I thought it was about forever.

You’ve one mark on your record,” Tamas said. “You once punched a na-baron in the face. Broke his jaw. Tell me about that.”Olem grimaced. “Officially, sir, I was pushing him out of the way of a runaway carriage. Saved his life. Half my company saw it.”“With your fist?”“Aye.”“And unofficially?”“The man was a git. He shot my dog because it startled his horse.”“And if I ever have cause to shoot your dog?”“I’ll punch you in the face.”“Fair enough. You have the job.