No man loves the bearer of bad tidings.
The advice that is wanted is commonly not welcome and that which is not wanted, evidently an effrontery.
Nobody likes the bringer of bad news.
None love the messenger who brings bad news.
The truth is forced upon us, very quickly, by a foe.
Truth seldom is pleasant; it is almost invariably bitter.
Some truth has no nourishment in it.
I went horseback riding and got a big chunk of horse manure kicked into my face. It has a way of slapping you right back into reality.
Daylight is nobody's friend. God comes in like a landlord and flashes on his brassy lamp.
A fake fortuneteller can be tolerated. But an authentic soothsayer should be shot on sight. Cassandra did not get half the kicking around she deserved.
Homely truth is unpalatable.
They deem him their worst enemy who tells them the truth.
Can any thing, my good Sir, be more painful to a friendly mind than a necessity of communicating disagreeable intelligence? Indeed, it is sometimes difficult to determine, whether the relater or the receiver of evil tidings is most to be pitied.
I felt suddenly cruel, like I´d told dmall children there was no tooth fairy, that it was just their Mom sneaking into their room after they went to bed.
Truth is so often disconcerting.
While my friend was my friend, he flattered me, and I never heard the truth from him. When he became my enemy, he shot it to me on a poisoned arrow.
The truth is seldom welcome, especially at dinner.
Nobody likes the man who brings bad news.
The most distressing thing that can happen to a prophet is to be proved wrong. The next most distressing thing is to be proved right.
