A Quote by Albert Camus

Fancy language, like poplin, too often conceals an eczema. — © Albert Camus
Fancy language, like poplin, too often conceals an eczema.
Sometimes you have to gag on fancy before you can appreciate plain, th' way I see it. For too many years, I ate fancy, I dressed fancy, I talked fancy. A while back, I decided to start talkin' th' way I was raised t' talk, and for th' first time in forty years, I can understand what I'm sayin'.
The language of literature is the language of all the world. It is necessary to divest ourselves at once of the notion of diversified vocal and grammatical speech which constitutes the various tongues of the Earth, and conceals the identity of image and logic in the minds of all men.
I have a medical condition, all right. It's called caring too much, and it's incurable. Also, I have eczema.
I often find myself worrying about celebrities. It's an entirely caring thing; it's not like the people who commission those photographs with cruel arrows to go on the covers of the celebrity magazines. The photographs show botched plastic surgery, raging eczema, weight gain and horrible clothes for maximum schadenfreude.
Don't be overwhelmed by a man's fancy car, fancy house or fancy clothes. It's really the person inside the care, house and clothes that matters. By the same token, don't be underwhelmed by a less-than-fancy car, house or clohtes. Women can earn the car and house themselves, and you can always buy your man nice clothes, too.
Of course there are regrets. I shall regret always that I found my own authentic voice in politics. I was too conservative, too conventional. Too safe, too often. Too defensive. Too reactive. Later, too often on the back foot.
There may be one fault in a man that conceals a thousand qualities, or one excellence that conceals a thousand faults. The little indicates much.
Poetry doesn't function by saying things straightforwardly because the language is too imprecise, too limited often, to address the underlying subject of most poems.
You was talkin' out of yer head last night, too," chortles Davy. "No one's gonna fancy me. I'm gonna be ugly and no on'es gonna fancyme!" he mimics, mincing about the hammock. "You are such a rum cove, Jacky, for thinkin' such things when yer just about beat t' death! Fancy me? Fancy me? Jacky, no one's gonna fancy us, we're all gonna end up lookin' like Snag!" "Which is how a salty dog sailor's supposed to look," says Willy with a firm nod. "And you're halfway there, Jack-o!" crows Tink. Ah, the sweet comfort of friends.
I am so pathetic with machines in real life, it's not a joke. I'd rather walk, or even run, than take the car out myself. I like to be driven around. Yes, I like fancy cars, and fancy bikes, too. It's my dream to learn how to ride one myself, but for now, I am content being driven around.
I like going down to London for a couple of days, but it's a place where I'd never fancy living - too busy, too lively, people on top of you.
Honesty is stronger medicine than sympathy, which may console but often conceals.
His jargon conceals, from him, but not from us, the deep, empty hole in his mind. He uses technological language as a substitute for technique.
The substance of the winds is too thin for human eyes, their written language is too difficult for human minds, and their spoken language mostly too faint for the ears.
In country, as in people, a plain exterior often conceals hidden riches, to perceive which requires much living in and with.
I like to jot down ideas on the back of envelopes and to recognise the potential value in small things. I also like the freedom to think without feeling compelled to write too early. Stories are often better if we can hold back and get to know the characters and the sounds of language.
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