False Cheer Quotes

The driver bumped his way through the door and plopped down Caitlyn's "luggage." Caitlyn watched Madame Snowe's eyes go to it, widening as
she took it in. Caitlyn's cheeks heated.
Her "luggage" was a Vietnam War-era army green duffel bag, bought for a dollar at a garage sale. Cloud-shaped moisture stains mottled its
faded surface, and jagged stitches of black carpet thread sealed a rip on one end, Caitlyn's clumsy needlework giving the mended hole the look of
one of Frankenstein's scars.
"Is that all you brought?" Greta asked.
Caitlyn nodded, wishing the floor would swallow her.
"Very good. You will have no trouble unpacking, and then you can burn your bag, heh?"
"Reduce, reuse, recycle!" Caitlyn said with false cheer. "We're very big on living green in Oregon. Why buy a new suitcase when someone else's
old duffel bag will do?"
"We'll see that it gets … disposed of properly, ~ Lisa Cach

I had a counter impulse to walk out of the bar and away from the Hacienda and her. She was trouble looking for somebody to happen to. And succeeding. I raised my drink and said with false cheer: 'Luck to the gold drinkers.' She sipped at hers.'You didn't say what kind of luck, good or bad. Not that it matters, people don't get their wishes. Wishing-wells are to drown in. But I mustn't go on like that. I'm always pitying myself, and that's neurotic.' She made a visible effort, and focused her attention on me: 'Speaking of luck, you don't as if you had too much luck in your life. Some of the kicks you say you go for were kicks in the head, I bet'. ~ Ross Macdonald

The more skillful the performance of false cheer, the more pleasing the effect is upon one's public and on that private audience to whom one owes even more. ~ Judith Martin

I don't exactly get to be moody or snappy when I don't feel like putting on a happy face, because when most people meet me, I'm already starting out with a deficit. Fat girls don't get that luxury. ~ Julie Murphy

How many winds of doctrine we have known in recent decades, how many ideological currents, how many ways of thinking. The small boat of thought of many Christians has often been tossed about by these waves - thrown from one extreme to the other: from Marxism to liberalism, even to libertinism; from collectivism to radical individualism; from atheism to a vague religious mysticism; from agnosticism to syncretism, and so forth. Every day new sects are created and what Saint Paul says about human trickery comes true, with cunning which tries to draw those into error (cf Ephesians 4, 14). Having a clear Faith, based on the Creed of the Church, is often labeled today as a fundamentalism. Whereas, relativism, which is letting oneself be tossed and 'swept along by every wind of teaching', looks like the only attitude acceptable to today's standards. We are moving towards a dictatorship of relativism which does not recognize anything as certain and which has as its highest goal one's own ego and one's own desires. However, we have a different goal: the Son of God, true man. He is the measure of true humanism. Being an 'Adult' means having a faith which does not follow the waves of today's fashions or the latest novelties. A faith which is deeply rooted in friendship with Christ is adult and mature. It is this friendship which opens us up to all that is good and gives us the knowledge to judge true from false, and deceit from truth. ~ Benedict XVI

But not to worry. Those of you who have no need to be worried should not in the least be worried. As for those of you who should be worried, it's a little late to start worrying now, you should have started months ago, when it could've done you some good, because at this point, what's decided is decided, or would have been decided, if those false rumors we are denying, the rumors about the firings which would be starting this week if they were slated to begin, were true, which we have jut told you, they aren't. (63) ~ George Saunders

This false and artificial means enforces a state of ennui. ~ Laetitia Sadier

It is better to have a thousand real enemies than a single false friend. ~ Matshona Dhliwayo

Such do not always understand the authors whose names adorn their barren pages, and which are taken, too, from the third or the thirtieth hand. Those who trust to such false quoters will often learn how contrary this transmission is to the sense and application of the original. Every transplantation has altered the fruit of the tree; every new channel, the quality of the stream in its remove from the spring-head. ~ Isaac D'Israeli

He would like either to overcome the wolf and become wholly man or to renounce mankind and at last to live wholly a wolf's life. It may be presumed that he has never carefully watched a real wolf. Had he done so he would have seen, perhaps, that even animals are not undivided in spirit. With them, too, the well-knit beauty of the body hides a being of manifold states and strivings. The wolf, too, has his abysses. The wolf, too, suffers. No, back to nature is a false track that leads nowhere but to suffering and despair. Harry can never turn back again and become wholly wolf, and could he do so he would find that even the wolf is not of primeval simplicity, but already a creature of manifold complexity. Even the wolf has two, and more than two, souls in his wolf's breast, and he who desires to be a wolf falls into the same forgetfulness as the man who sings: "If I could be a child once more!" He who sentimentally sings of blessed childhood is thinking of the return to nature and innocence and the origin of things, and has quite forgotten that these blessed children are beset with conflict and complexities and capable of all suffering. ~ Hermann Hesse

A human being, any human being at all, has so perishingly few chances to stay right there, to let go of time and fall into the moment. And to love someone without measure, explode with passion ... A few times when we are children, maybe, for those of us who are allowed to be ... But after that? How many breaths are we allowed to take beyond the confines of ourselves? How many pure emotions make us cheer out loud without a sense of shame? How many chances do we get to be blessed by amnesia? All passion is childish, it's banal and naive, it's nothing we learn, it's instinctive, and so it overwhelms us ... Overturns us ... It bears us away in a flood ... All other emotions belong to the earth, but passion inhabits the universe. That is the reason why passion is worth something. Not for what it gives us, but for what it demands that we risk - our dignity, the puzzlement of others in their condescending shaking heads ... ~ Fredrik Backman

I think there's a false division people sometimes make in describing literary novels, where there are people who write systems novels, or novels of ideas, and there are people who write about emotional things in which the movement is character driven. But no good novels are divisible in that way. ~ Dana Spiotta

The best book, like the best speech, will do it all - make us laugh, think, cry and cheer - preferably in that order. ~ Madeleine Albright

First, all I could see was this beautiful face, this beautiful girl's face; like a white, slightly luminous mask, swimming detachedly against enfolding darkness. As if a little private spotlight of its own was trained on it from below. It was so beautiful and so false, and I seemed to know it so well, and my heart was wrung.
There was no danger yet, just this separate, shell-like face mask standing out. But there was danger somewhere around, I knew that already; and I knew that I couldn't escape it. I knew that everything [ was about to do, I had to do, I couldn't avoid doing. And yet, oh, I didn't want to do it. I wanted to turn and flee, I wanted to get out of wherever this was. ("Nightmare") ~ Cornell Woolrich

Don't think for a minute that bad publicity and endless criticism don't leave their claw marks on everyone concerned. Your friends try to cheer you up by saying lightly, "I suppose you get used to it, and ignore it." You try. You try damned hard. But you never get used to it. It always wounds and hurts. ~ Ava Gardner

Logic might be imagined to exist independent of writing - syllogisms can be spoken as well as written - but it did not. Speech is too fleeting to allow for analysis. Logic descended from the written word, in Greece as well as India and China, where it developed independently. Logic turns the act of abstraction into a tool for determining what is true and what is false: truth can be discovered in words alone, apart from concrete experience. Logic takes its form in chains: sequences whose members connect one to another. Conclusions follow from premises. These require a degree of constancy. They have no power unless people can examine and evaluate them. In contrast, an oral narrative proceeds by accretion, the words passing by in a line of parade past the viewing stand, briefly present and then gone, interacting with one another via memory and association. ~ James Gleick

Revolutions are true as movements and false as regimes. ~ Maurice Merleau Ponty

How false the most profound book turns out to be when applied to life. ~ William Faulkner

Prince William's smiling hostility toward the press is his non-negotiable core value. I am told he is so protective of his privacy he has been known to plant false tips with friends he distrusts and watch the media to see if they play out. ~ Tina Brown

Where there is a believing community whose life is centered in the biblical story through its worshipping, teaching, and sacramental and apostolic life, there will certainly be differences of opinion on specific issues, certainly mistakes, certainly false starts. But it is part of my faith in the authenticity of the story itself that this community will not be finally betrayed. ~ Lesslie Newbigin

You show me someone who can't understand people and I'll show you someone who has built up a false image of himself. ~ Isaac Asimov

Not to belabor the point, but counterfeit luxury goods truly represent a false economy. ~ Chuck Palahniuk

Gustavo Tiberius speaking."

"It's so weird you do that, man," Casey said, sounding amused. "Every time I call."

"It's polite," Gus said. "Just because you kids these days don't have proper phone etiquette."

"Oh boy, there's the Grumpy Gus I know. You miss me?"

Gus was well aware the others could hear the conversation loud and clear. He was also aware he had a reputation to maintain. "Hadn't really thought about it."

"Really."

"Yes."

"Gus."

"Casey."

"I miss you."

"I miss you too," Gus mumbled into the phone, blushing fiercely.

"Yeah? How much?"

Gus was in hell. "A lot," he said truthfully. "There have been allegations made against my person of pining and moping. False allegations, mind you, but allegations nonetheless."

"I know what you mean," Casey said. "The guys were saying the same thing about me."

Gus smiled. "How embarrassing for you."
"Completely. You have no idea."
"They're going to get you packed up this week?"
"Ah, yeah. Sure. Something like that."
"Casey."
"Yes, Gustavo."
"You're being cagey."
"I have no idea what you mean. Hey, that's a nice Hawaiian shirt you've got on. Pink? I don't think I've seen you in that color before."

Gus shrugged. "Pastor Tommy had a shitload of them. I think I could wear one every day for the rest of the year and not re ~ T.J. Klune

[F]or several thousand years we have been obsessed with a false humility - on the one hand, putting ourselves down as mere creatures" who came into this world by the whim of God or the fluke of blind forces, and on the other, conceiving ourselves as separate personal egos fighting to control the physical world. We have lacked the real humility of recognizing that we are members of the biosphere, the "harmony of contained conflicts" in which we cannot exist at all without the cooperation of plants, insects, fish, cattle, and bacteria. In the same measure, we have lacked the proper self-respect of recognizing that I, the individual organism, am a structure of such fabulous ingenuity that it calls the whole universe into being. In the act of putting everything at a distance so as to describe and control it, we have orphaned ourselves both from the surrounding world and from our own bodies - leaving "I" as a discontented and alienated spook, anxious, guilty, unrelated, and alone. ~ Alan W. Watts

Love and concern for all are not things some of us are born with and others are not. Rather, they are results of what we do with our minds: We can choose to transform our minds so that they embody love, or we can allow them to develop habits and false concepts of separation. ~ Sharon Salzberg

A false friend and a shadow attend only while the sun shines. ~ Benjamin Franklin

Press on! If Fortune play thee false To-day, tomorrow she'll be true; Whom now she sinks she now exalts, Taking old gifts and granting new, The wisdom of the present hour Makes up the follies past and gone; To weakness, strength succeeds, and power From frailty springs! Press on, press on! ~ Benjamin

Whether it was true or false seems ultimately of little importance.
Donald Sturrock in 'Storyteller. The Life of Roald Dahl ~ Donald Sturrock

There are some things one remembers even though they may never have happened. ~ Harold Pinter

You'll have a false name too?"
"Jakob."
"Well, that's certainly easier on the tongue than Malachiasz. ~ Emily A. Duncan

So let this disappointment do its work
My truest hopes have never failed
They have merely been buried
beneath the shoveled muck of disillusion
or encased in the carapace of self-serving desire.
It is only false hopes that are brittle, shattering like shells of thin glass to reveal the diamond hardness of the unshakeable eternal hopes within.
So shake and shatter all that would hinder my growth, O God. ~ Douglas Kaine McKelvey

The journey across the landscape of loss to the inner self takes courage and persistence. It is a risky venture, with lots of false trails and humanising errors. It requires gentleness to know your limits, yet willingness to apply pressure in the direction of growth. It is a journey that is not cost-free, nor is it ever finished. But, especially in the pitch darkness, it is a journey on which there is always hope. ~ Dr Brian Babington, Bouncing Back

I am a scholar and a pupil who has been lulled to sleep by the meagre fire of a mind too humble. I have been too much burned, and my injured mind has accumulated too much passion; for tormenting itself with the defending of our sex, my mind sighs, conscious of its obligation. For all things - those deeply rooted inside us as well as those outside us - are being laid at the door of our sex.
In addition, I, who have always held virtue in high esteem and considered private things as secondary importance, shall wear down and exhaust my pen writing against those men who are garrulous and puffed up with false pride. I shall not fail to obstruct tenaciously their treacherous snares. And I shall strive a war of vengeance against the notorious abuse of those who fill everything with noise, since armed with such abuse, certain insane and infamous men bark and bare their teeth in vicious wrath at the republic of women, so worthy of veneration. ~ Laura Cereta

The little smiling cottage! where at eve
He meets his rosy children at the door,
Prattling their welcomes, and his honest wife,
With good brown cake and bacon slice, intent
To cheer his hunger after labor hard. ~ Edward Dyer

One great distinction, I appeared to myself to see plainly between even the characteristic faults of our elder poets, and the false beauty of the moderns. In the former, from Donne to Cowley, we find the most fantastic out-of-the-way thoughts, but in the most pure and genuine mother English, in the latter the most obvious thoughts, in language the most fantastic and arbitrary. Our faulty elder poets sacrificed the passion and passionate flow of poetry to the subtleties of intellect and to the stars of wit; the moderns to the glare and glitter of a perpetual, yet broken and heterogeneous imagery, or rather to an amphibious something, made up, half of image, and half of abstract meaning. The one sacrificed the heart to the head; the other both heart and head to point and drapery. ~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

In the face of evil the only two responses were to cheer it on or look the other way. ~ Matthew J. Kirby

See how the world (whose chaste and pregnant womb Of late conceiv'd, and brought forth nothing ill) Is now degenerated, and become A base adult'ress, whose false births do fill The earth with monsters, monsters that do roam And rage about, and make a trade to kill: Now glutt'ny paunches, and avarice a pawn; Pale envy pines, pride swells, and sloth begins to yawn. ~ Francis Quarles

There must be some other possibility than death or lifelong penance ... some meeting, some intersection of lines; and some cowardly, hopeful geometer in my brain tells me it is the angle at which two lines prop each other up, the leaning-together from the vertical which produces the false arch. For lack of a keystone, the false arch may be as much as one can expect in this life. Only the very lucky discover the keystone. ~ Wallace Stegner

But perhaps that's why we take snaps ... to provide false evidence to underpin the false claim that we were happy. Because the thought that we weren't happy at least for some time during our lives is unbearable. Adults order children to smile in the photos, involve them in the lie, so we smile, we feign happiness. ~ Jo Nesbo

Kieran, can you make a run for it with Lucy?" Nicholas asked. "'You can take one of the Jeeps," he added as Logan tossed Kieran his keys.
"I'm not leaving you guys," I sputtered. "When did you fall and hit your head?"
"Lucy, you're out of arrows and we're out of options." He darted a quick glance at Quinn, who was behind me.
I grabbed a fistful of Nicholas's shirt. "I'm not leaving you, you big dumb idiot." I whipped my head around and shot Quinn a glare. "Take one more step. I dare you." I knew full well he'd planned to sneak up on me and toss me over his shoulder. He paused, knowing equally well that I'd damage him if he tried.
He did it anyway.
I was suddenly airborne and then draped over his shoulder, which dug painfully under my ribs. "It's just faster this way," he said.
I shifted, cursing. "Put me down, you undead asshat."
"Just trying to save your ungrateful life," he shot back with grim cheer. I punched him right in the ass since I couldn't reach any other part of him. ~ Alyxandra Harvey