Blaise Pascal Quotes

Ally." Peeta says the words slowly, tasting it. "Friend. Lover. Victor. Enemy. Fiancee. Target. Mutt. Neighbor. Hunter. Tribute. Ally. I'll add it to the list of words I use to try to figure you out. The problem is, I can't tell what's real anymore, and what's made up.

But there's so much that was a lie, it's hard to figure out what was true, what was real, what matters.

I hate not knowing what to believe anymore. I hate not knowing what's real.

I did not set out to be beloved and just, only strong." 'A King can be better than that," the Prince insisted. "And so we all begin, determined to better our fathers' performances, knowing we can change the very nature of humanity, make it better, cleaner. But then daggers strike in the night, and peasants revolt, and all manner of atrocities become a necessity as breakfast. Only Princes believe in the greater good. Kings know there is only Reign, and all things may be committed in its holy name.

When I was sworn in as Mayor of Nashville back in 1991, I have to admit to you that I felt for several weeks like a bit of an outsider who had somehow taken over but didnt really belong in this nice palace. I secretly wondered if the real mayor would come back from vacation one day and call the police.

Without ego I don't know how identity works, I don't know... I need to sit down and re-read some philosophy or something.

A weak King must be what other Kings have been; a strong King is himself, and from then on the meaning of the name of King is changed.

I knew nothing but shadows and I thought them to be real.

At one time kings were anointed by Deity, so the problem was to see to it that Deity chose the right candidate. In this age the myth is "the will of the people" ... but the problem changes only superficially.

Everyone looked pensive, which is good cover-up for clueless.

I tell myself that I know you, and then when I think about it, I realize that I don't.

What the deuce is to do now?

For the present you can just call me the Kingfish.

When people don't know what you are, you get your heart broken daily.

A learned man came to me once. He said, "I know the way, -- come." And I was overjoyed at this. Together we hastened. Soon, too soon, were we Where my eyes were useless, And I knew not the ways of my feet. I clung to the hand of my friend; But at last he cried, "I am lost.

Your name?"The movements of the man's mouth didn't quite match what he was saying, so seeing him speak was a bit like watching a badly dubbed film. "Alex Gardiner," Alex said. "Your real name?" "I just told you." "You lied. Your real name is Alex Rider." "Why ask if you think you know?

To tell you the truth, the older I get, the less I know. I keep meeting people, both older and younger, who seem to have accrued so much more knowledge or expertise or certainty about who they are and the jobs they do. I just marvel at it.

The problem is, I can’t tell what’s real anymore, and what’s made up.

The real purpose of the scientific method is to make sure nature hasn’t misled you into thinking you know something you actually don’t know.

There's no real reason for me to be so obsessed with trying to understand the true nature of things. You can live a perfectly happy life being utterly confused and not knowing.

I have no idea where I'm going but here's the real question: What am I doing here in the first place?

Let's pretend there's a pandemic. Let's everybody run around and play your role. Main result is that there is tremendous confusion. ... Nobody knows who's in charge. Nobody knows the chain of command.

It's not a real name," she says. "Not one that he's carried with him always. It's one he wears like his hat. So he can take it off if he wants.

All you know is what you think you know, but that isn't always what's real.

We must have kings, we must have nobles; nature is always providing such in every society; only let us have the real instead of the titular. In every society some are born to rule, and some to advise. The chief is the chief all the world over, only not his cap and plume. It is only this dislike of the pretender which makes men sometimes unjust to the true and finished man.