Deceit (n.) can be felt through every covering, as Caspar Hauser could feel metal through countless layers of clothing.
Deceit (n.) is called on as a power — truth's changeling, indistinguishable from it — to turn every anguish into nonsense on the lips and let him sit beside her like a nodding Chinese idol.
Deceit (n.) does its victim the greatest injustice: whatever she does, even staying true to him, a comic light falls on her because she has her existence in his deceit.
Deceit (n.) and love cannot be combined: to love deceitfully is to hate.
Deceit (n.) need not be a flaw that others unmask in an authorship; the author may labour to make the doubleness visible himself.