And the veil
Spun from the cobweb fashion of the times,
TO hid the feeling heart?

And the veil
Spun from the cobweb fashion of the times,
TO hid the feeling heart?

How inexpressible is the meanness of being a hypocrite! how
horrible is it to be a mischievous and malignant read more

How inexpressible is the meanness of being a hypocrite! how
horrible is it to be a mischievous and malignant hypocrite.
- Voltaire (Francois Marie Arouet Voltaire),

Constant at Church and 'Change; his gains were sure;
His givings rare, save farthings to the poor.

Constant at Church and 'Change; his gains were sure;
His givings rare, save farthings to the poor.

A hypocrite despises those whom he deceives, but has no respect for himself. He would make a dupe of himself read more

A hypocrite despises those whom he deceives, but has no respect for himself. He would make a dupe of himself too, if he could.

Hypocrisy in anything whatever may deceive the cleverest and most penetrating man, but the least wide-awake of children recognizes it, read more

Hypocrisy in anything whatever may deceive the cleverest and most penetrating man, but the least wide-awake of children recognizes it, and is revolted by it, however ingeniously it may be disguised

Hypocrisy can afford to be magnificent in its promises, for never intending to go beyond promise, it costs nothing

Hypocrisy can afford to be magnificent in its promises, for never intending to go beyond promise, it costs nothing

Not he who scorns the Saviour's yoke
Should wear his cross upon the heart.

Not he who scorns the Saviour's yoke
Should wear his cross upon the heart.

Thus 'tis with all; their chief and constant care
Is to seem everything but what they are.

Thus 'tis with all; their chief and constant care
Is to seem everything but what they are.

Let me be cruel, not unnatural;
I will speak daggers to her, but use none.
My tongue read more

Let me be cruel, not unnatural;
I will speak daggers to her, but use none.
My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites:
How in my words somever she be shent,
To give them seals never, my soul, consent!