We are what we imagine ourselves to be.

When we pretend that we can avoid vulnerability we engage in behaviors that are often inconsistent with who we want to be.

We are so accustomed to disguise ourselves to others, that in the end, we become disguised to ourselves.

We see people not as they are, but as they appear to us. And these appearances are usually misleading.

We practice and practice, and we master how to be what we are not.

In all aspects of life, we take on a part and an appearance to seem to be what we wish to be — and thus the world is merely composed of actors.

We mistakenly believe that who we were is who we are, thus limiting our true potential in the present, based on the limitations of our past.

What if by sheer repetition we become the person we most often pretend to be? Does that mean there is no authentic self? Are we made of habits, compressed by time, like layered rocks?

We even make ourselves up, fusing what we are with what we wish into what we must become. I'm not sure why it must be so, but it is.

Pretend to be something you’re not until you are — fake it until you’re successful, until everybody sees you the way you want them.

We pass for what we are.

The greatest way to live with honour in this world is to be what we pretend to be.

Sometimes I think everyone is just pretending to be brave, and none of us really are. Maybe pretending is how you get brave, I don't know.

Nous sommes si accoutumés à nous déguiser aux autres qu’enfin nous nous déguisons à nous-mêmes.