Albert Camus Quotes

Like many people, I have a fascination with lies and the people who tell them. I wouldn't say I've never told a lie, but I don't think I've ever told one without both assuming I would be found out and feeling absolutely rotten about it.

I can deal with imperfection, but I can't deal with people who lie to themselves and lie to the world to make the world feel better.

Men who retain irony are not to be trusted. They can't always resist an impulse to tickle themselves.

With old liars who have been acting all their lives there are moments when they enter so completely into their part that they tremble or shed tears in earnest, although at that very moment, or a second later, they are able to whisper to themselves, "You know you are lying, you shameless old sinner! You're acting now, in spite of your 'holy' wrath.

I don't lie," I lied.

Many an honest man practices upon himself an amount of deceit sufficient, if practised upon another, and in a little different way, to send him to the state prison.

Lying to ourselves is more deeply ingrained than lying to others.

Then I felt that every inflection of my voice, every word in my mouth, was a lie, a play whose sole purpose was to cover emptiness and boredom. There was only one way I could avoid a state of despair and a breakdown. To be silent. And to reach behind the silence for clarity or at least try to collect the resources that might still be available to me.

I know my lies are always wishes.

Nothing creates such untruth in you as the wish to please.

All I do is lie, and that has made me immune to compliments.

The true hypocrite is the one who ceases to perceive his deception, the one who lies with sincerity.

The man who has never been tempted doesn't know how dishonest he is.

It is in the ability to deceive oneself that the greatest talent is shown.

We are lying to ourselves and to each other. Lying about what? I don't care if we're lying. I am a bad person. I don't care. I don't care what you are.

There is not a single line in this diary that does not call for a correction or a denial...Yes: throughout these pages I meant what I was writing and I meant the opposite; reading them again I feel completely lost...I was lying to myself. How I lied to myself!

I think our danger is that we talk one thing, and we feel and act another thing.

In Leon's account of his life, no-one was mean-spirited, no-one schemed or lied or betrayed; everyone was celebrated at least in some degree... Leon turned out to be a spineless, grinning idiot.

Good intentions are wicked! As far as I can see, all they lead to are lies and delusions.

If it is necessary sometimes to lie to others, it is always despicable to lie to oneself.

Quite simply, it is true that I can be a pig! It is not a lie to say that. Sometimes, I feel that I am in the right even when I am wrong.

There is so much falsehood both at home and at school. At home one must not speak, and at school we have to stand and tell lies to the children.

Men lie, and they lie to theirselves worst of all.

The false man is more false to himself than to any one else. He may despoil others, but himself is the chief loser. The world's scorn he might sometimes forget, but the knowledge of his own perfidy is undying.

There are many who have grave scruples about deceiving but think it as nothing to deceive themselves.