Self-deception (n.) is not only believing what is untrue... it is also not believing what is true.
Self-deception (n.) is our basic instinct. While zealousness to learn from life is seldom found, all the more frequently a desire, inclination, and reciprocal haste to be deceived by life.
Self-deception (n.) is like a sick person who craves most that which is most harmful to him in that the human being in self-deception craves most of all to be deceived... then he is allowed not only to remain in error but to feel really at home in the self-deception.
Self-deception (n.) is harder to cure than blindness — it is the waking man who dreams that he is awake.
Self-deception (n.) about love is the most terrible deception of all: the deceived lover still keeps love, but the self-deceived has locked himself out of it.
Self-deception (n.) about finding no one to love takes three shapes: sighing over the world (easier than beating one's breast), accusing men of being unworthy (easier than being accused), and fastidious pride (easier than being strict with oneself).
Self-deception (n.) is loved by men more than they love either the living or the dead.
Self-deception (n.) has the judge's remedy: write down in a few clear words what you resolved and why, and when it grows dim, take out your charter and judge yourself.
Self-deception (n.) is terrible, Socrates says, because the deceiver is always present — but it is fortunate to have present a deceiver who piously deceives and weans the child before finitude can bungle him.
Self-deception (n.) might serve spirit as dumped spice cargoes served the Dutch merchants pegging prices: do we need to pretend we have not reached the highest, just to have something left to do?
Self-deception (n.) after a loss belittles the good one had, as if strength lay in falsehood.
Self-deception (n.) prefers the pain of lack to the sorrow of repentance.