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like a fathomless acid in his belly.
That was the thing about the truth. Sometimes you were judged more harshly for revealing it than for concealing it. Some bastard running for president hired a hooker, and they called the reporter “salacious” for writing about it. “The responsibility lies with those who did the deed and those who prop them up, not the ones exposing it.” “You finished?”
That was the thing about the truth; it only came out when the cost of lying became too high.
“You can’t convince those who don’t want to be convinced. They’ll see what they want to see, hear what they want to hear, and studiously avoid anything that challenges their ‘truth.’ I know what’s right and what’s wrong.”
That, of course, was the thing about truth. Those who hid it always believed it was colored in shades of grey; those who revealed it always saw the black and white.
“That’s the thing about truth,” she hissed. “It’s always much more complicated than you believe.”
The memory was tinged blue now, a snapshot from happier times.
“It’s not like we’re torturing him, Tully.” “You think imprisoning someone in their own mind isn’t torture?”
But the difference is that the human brain is constantly fighting with itself; various networks are in constant conflict with one another. Emotion battles logic, willpower battles the desire for instant gratification, and hormones are virtually at war with each other. Some humans allow their emotions to drive their choices. That can be disastrous. Emotions alone don’t make good decisions.”
Emotion and logic have the same purpose. They’re both tools for guiding your choices and decisions, and for understanding the world. And emotion is important; it’s like a depth gauge for how important a choice is. But you need a threshold over which emotions can’t tread, so that decisions aren’t taken from a position of anger, depression, or grief.
People seem to live in both the past and in the future, two big overlapping circles, but rarely focus on the intersection and enjoy the moments given to them right now.”
That was the thing about truth. People tried to dole it out in slices, keeping some back as if delivering the whole pie would be more damaging. But that always left you chewing away, revelation after revelation, long after a proper meal would have been fully digested.
“I’d like to believe the truth will emerge, one way or another. That’s the thing about truth. It usually does—but never through the clean, fresh air; always through the sewers.”
“My understanding is that humans have a unique capacity to solve problems when they’re not focused on them.”
See, the thing is, it’s always the real dumb ones and the real smart ones who get caught the quickest. The dumb ones? They trip over their own mess and you pick them up while they’re still sprawled on the floor. But the smart ones? They think they’re untouchable. They get cocky. Cook up a plan that’s just plain overcomplicated. Foolproof, right? But they don’t see it. They’re too busy admiring their own genius in the mirror.”
“I don’t know what to think. I’m just losing faith in coincidence.”
one that looks real on the surface but with details that disappear as soon as you examine them closely.
That was the thing about truth. Sometimes, you only heard the truth you wanted to hear.
had reopened hastily stitched-up wounds that had only just scabbed over.
She observed them clinically, as if from afar, while her mind screamed at her to get out of there.
Hard decisions were always easier to judge the right and wrong of when it was someone else’s job to make them.
Who was he to say what was true anymore?
