It's just that it's mind-boggling to me how many people I encounter every day who are struggling to subsist on a diet of bad advice about fake solutions to nonexistent problems.
If I could act like This was my real life, And not some cage where I've been placed, Well then, I could tell you The truth like I used to And not be afraid of sounding fake.
She looks like the real thing She tastes like the real thing My fake plastic love But I can't help the feeling I could blow through the ceiling If I just turn and run.
From the very beginning, art meant something very important to the people who made it. It was a correspondence of the emotions to what you saw; it wasn't knowledge. You were being at one with something eternal; something outside of yourself. And no matter how many fake things have been brought in to suit other conditions... That is still true.
Realism has to be such high quality, you can't fake it. It's all hanging out there like the laundry.
Like most authors, I'm a raging egomaniac. I know that about myself. And I know that, if I had internet access, I would waste countless hours looking up things about myself, writing fake posts about how great I am and arguing with people who don't like my work. It saves me a lot of time and frustration to just stay out of the loop.
Exceptions to the traditions of dumpy dignity and fake learnedness in law review writing are as rare as they are beautiful. Once in a while a Thomas Reed Powell gets away with an imaginary judicial opinion that gives a real twist to the lion's tail. Once in a while a Thurman Arnold forgets his footnotes as though to say that if people do not believe or understand him that is their worry and not his. But even such mild breaches of etiquette as these are tolerated gingerly and seldom, and are likely to be looked at a little askance by the writers' more pious brethren.
Finnish forests: Let us remind the satellite pictures of the 1970's winter in which the old forest appeared black and young forest and cut downs white. Already then the Finnish borders were like drawn on the map: White Finland between black Karelian and black Sweden. Finnish Forest Research Institute hicced up some time and then decided that the pictures are fake.
A tennis racket makes a great fake guitar!
My name is not Mara Dyer, but my lawyer told me I had to choose something. A pseudonym. A nom de plume, for all of us studying for the SATs. I know that having a fake name is strange, but trust me-it's the most normal thing about my life right now. Even telling you this much probably isn't smart. But without my big mouth, no one would know that a seventeen-year-old who likes Death Cab for Cutie was responsible for the murders. No one would know that somewhere out there is a B student with a body count. And it's important that you know, so you're not next.
I was in the land of fakes and frauds and phonies-I felt like saying “Howdy cousin,” to everybody who walked by.
Bill Knott's poems are . . . rhetorical fluff . . . and fake.
We live in an age of apologies. Apologies, fake or true, are expected from the descendants of empire builders, slave owners and persecutors of heretics, and from men who -in our eyes- just got it all wrong. So, with the age of 85 coming up shortly, I want to make an apology. It appears I must apologize for being male, white, and European.
Marco Rubio announced he's running for president. Fun fact: Marco Rubio's wife is a former Miami Dolphins cheerleader. In other words, she knows how to generate fake enthusiasm for someone who's not going to win.
Donald Trump is talking about running for president. He hasn't made an announcement, but I want to tell you something. The fake suspense is killing me.
That's right, Mitt Romney took on Evander Holyfield in a boxing match for charity, and it was a pretty one-sided fight. But it was still not the worst boxing match we've seen this month. This weekend Vladimir Putin played in an exhibition hockey game with some former NHL players and scored eight goals. Even Evander Holyfield and Mitt Romney said, 'That looks fake.'
There's something wonderful about drinking in the afternoon. A not-too-cold pint, absolutely alone at the bar - even in this fake-ass Irish pub.
The combination of an out-of-control tabloid press and a readership that thrills to the destruction of the England head coach is something no other country can offer. Scolari was driven out; Steve McClaren's personal life made the front pages. Neither of them even held the job. Then there was the fake-sheikhing of Sven-Göran Eriksson. That a newspaper should so brilliantly and deliberately destabilise the national head coach in a World Cup year is something no other sporting nation would consider.
Well, this movie I've been working on for a while. I had the idea for the movie like twenty years ago when I was doing 'Empire of the Sun' in 1987 because at that time that's when all these Vietnam movies were being made and my friends and I were going on auditions for these Vietnam movies and my friends were getting them and going away to fake boot camps.
Everybody talks about being a role model. But if you look up the word 'role' in a dictionary, it describes playing a part. Everything I'm into, it's real to me. There's nothing fake about it.
I was at a dinner party with a group of people, and we were talking about fake names. You know, how its difficult to come up with a really great fake name. Its a very specific type of gift. You don't want to go too far into the silly, and you don't want to go too far into the banal. I always thought one of the funniest names ever was Gern Blanston, which came from a Steve Martin routine on one of his early records.
I wouldn't. I would just go home. I'd fake an injury or something.
You have a visceral, physical response to being in [the real] places, and the sights and sounds and the smells just bring something else out in you. You're not having to fake that or imagine that. It's there. It becomes as much an act of something you bounce off as the other people you're working with.
You can't fake some of this chemistry, even when you get a guy and a girl and they've got to be together.
I was in Manhattan during 9/11, and that was really the only thing that I related to as far as a disaster on a grand scale. It was really interesting to see on that day and in the weeks afterwards how people came together, and what people were able to do for each other, and what I found myself feeling and thinking and doing for the people around me, whether it was strangers on the street or my own family. It was really an experience that you can't fake.
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