The only way of really finding out a man's true character is to play golf with him. In no other walk of life does the cloven hoof so quickly display itself.
Atticus, he was real nice." "Most people are, Scout, when you finally see them.
I was going to say the beginning is the good part, when it's all sparks and sparkles, before they are inevitably unmasked as assholes.
I don't think you ever know anyone until you see them in action.
Nothing, indeed, but the possession of some power can with any certainty discover what at the bottom is the true character of any man.
Wise were the kings who never chose a friend till with full cups they had unmasked his soul, and seen the bottom of his deepest thoughts.
You never know the palette of the one you kill until the mind disgorges its finest colours.
A person's true nature will reveal itself despite disguise.
The only way to truly know a person is to argue with them. For when they argue in full swing, then they reveal their true character.
My movies are usually about stripping off the makeup, getting down to the skeleton.
Fair ladies, masked, are roses in their bud; Dismasked, the damask sweet commixture shown, Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.
It's funny how you can think you know someone pretty well, and then something happens or they do something that makes you understand that you didn't really know them at all.
As riches and honor forsake a man, we discover him to be a fool, but nobody could find it out in his prosperity.
I think that's the magic of any part - unravelling the mystery of what kind of person your guy is based on the words he says and the actions that he does.
How much has to be explored and discarded before reaching the naked flesh of feeling.
the growth of intimacy is like that. First one gives off his best picture, the bright and finished product mended with bluff and falsehood and humour. Then more details are required and one paints a second portrait, and a third – before long the best lines cancel out – and the secret is exposed at last; the planes of the pictures have intermingled and given us away, and though we paint and paint we can no longer sell a picture. We must be satisfied with hoping that such fatuous accounts of ourselves as we make to our wives and children and business associates are accepted as true
A bad cause seldom fails to betray itself.
