Brutal Honesty Quotes

The best men tell you the truth because they think you can take it; the worst men either try to preserve you in some innocent state with their false protection, or are ‘brutally honest.’ When someone tells, lets you think for yourself, experience your own emotions, he is treating you as a true equal, a friend…And the best men cook for you.

I can't face losin' ya, Riley. Yer all I got left in this world.” That brutal honesty again. He'd peeled away more armor, and this time he'd exposed his heart.

Callie always said Luce was incapable of brutal honesty and that was why she got herself stuck in so many crappy situations with guys whom she should have just told no.

Lies don't end relationships the truth does.

Waking up breaks my heart. Getting dressed breaks my arms. Joining the crowd breaks my legs. Letting someone in...does me in.

There is another side to the Pisces nature and that is the brutal honesty that can catch others off guard.

Tough love and brutal truth from strangers are far more valuable than Band-Aids and half-truths from invested friends, who don’t want to see you suffer any more than you have.

Money is the barometer of a society’s virtue. When you see that trading is done, not by consent, but by compulsion–when you see that in order to produce, you need to obtain permission from men who produce nothing–when you see that money is flowing to those who deal, not in goods, but in favors–when you see that men get richer by graft and by pull than by work, and your laws don’t protect you against them, but protect them against you–when you see corruption being rewarded and honesty becoming a self-sacrifice–you may know that your society is doomed. Money is so noble a medium that does not compete with guns and it does not make terms with brutality. It will not permit a country to survive as half-property, half-loot

Shapers” are independent thinkers: curious, non-conforming, and rebellious. They practice brutal, nonhierarchical honesty. And they act in the face of risk, because their fear of not succeeding exceeds their fear of failing.

The man who is brutally honest enjoys the brutality as much as the honesty. Possibly more.

I struggle to keep my hard, expressionless mask in place. The doctor's most powerful weapon has always been his particular brand of brutal honesty. Bruises fade, but words like that fester.

I know what those fuckers were capable of, and I would never wish that on you” Her throat worked on a swallow. “What do you wish on me?” “Me,” he said with brutal honesty. “Fool that I am, I wish me on you. Like, on you.

Being the soothsayer of the tribe is a dirty job, but someone has to do it.

We particularly need to listen to older people and children. They all have stories to tell that enrich the mind and the heart. Children simplify things, often with brutal honesty. Older people bring the perspective of their long years on issues. Suffering people also help us understand what are the truly important matters of life. There is something to learn from all people if we are only willing to sit at their feet and humble ourselves enough to ask the right questions.

If the truth brings chaos, then let there be chaos.

The only time I want someone's opinion is when I ask for it. Reason why I don't ask for anyone's opinion nowadays is because they are too afraid, they always cover the truth with a lie, which is something I hate tremendously. When I ask for your opinion; I want full brutal honesty, face on, outright! Not a lot of people can do that, which is sad, very sad indeed...

He comes. And he comes loaded with noise pollution. If I ever prayed for anything, it was for a man to shut up.

Then the flash of the strobe. Give me sympathy. Flash. Give me brutal honesty. Flash.

In neglecting our intense emotions, we are false to ourselves and lose a wonderful opportunity to know God. We forget that change comes through brutal honesty and vulnerability before God.

I am quite scandalous, you see. I come packaged with unpredictable moments, brutal honesty, calamitous outbursts, the ghastly need for love, a fiendish lack of filter, the horrific need to question everything, nauseating affection, offensive kindness, indecent spirituality, obscene beauty, monstrous creativity, barbaric embellishments, contemptuous passion, sinful childhood traumas, unscrupulous hobbies, vexatious caring, abominable sensitivity, reprehensible humor, hideous sarcasm, displeasing feelings, unpalatable confidence, offensive compassion, villainous inspiration and a devilish wit. I am quite grotesque in my imperfectness and I am not ashamed to admit it.

While the two words often arrive sutured together, I think it worthwhile to breathe some space between them, so that one might see “brutal honesty” not as a more forceful version of honesty itself, but as one possible use of honesty. One that doesn’t necessarily lay truth barer by dint of force, but that actually overlays something on top of it—something that can get in its way. That something is cruelty.

It required a presence, a brutal honesty to put something out there and see what happens. Sometimes it was inspired and the thrill was exhilarating, other times it was painful and the result was humiliating. But somehow it didn’t matter. What mattered was going out there and doing it, not thinking about it, not worrying what others might think, not even being attached to a particular result, just doing it.

If you’re at all familiar with Charles Bukowski, you’ll know he was one of the last true son’s of bitches – the unapologetic epitome of gloriously arrogant self-concern and masculine independence. For what he lacked in polish he made up for in talent and a brutal honesty that could never be acknowledged in the feminine centric social order of today. In the mid 60’s he was a feral, instinctually Red Pill Man

We must regain the conviction that we need one another, that we have a shared responsibility for others and the world, and that being good and decent are worth it. We have had enough of immorality and the mockery of ethics, goodness, faith and honesty. It is time to acknowledge that light-hearted superficiality has done us no good. When the foundations of social life are corroded, what ensues are battles over conflicting interests, new forms of violence and brutality, and obstacles to the growth of a genuine culture of care for the environment.

That's what love is. It's taking a leap of faith. It's opening yourself up and letting your walls down and allowing someone to see every dark and broken corner of your soul. It's truth and honesty with yourself and them. It's raw and brutal and terrifying and real. You can't just claim to want it, but refuse to allow yourself to be vulnerable to it. That's not how it works. If you love someone, truly love them, you'll bear your soul to them and let them be the keeper of your heart no matter how fragile or damaged it might be. And if they love you then they'll do everything in their power to keep it safe, to nurture and protect it and heal over all the old wounds.

He’s hidden behind lies and half-truths his entire life, so anytime he’s faced with brutal honesty, he runs. It’s just his nature.

I'm not a liar, and I don't tolerate liars in my life. Honesty, even brutal honesty, is better than any flowery, fluffy lie

To be brutally truthful, the removal of your noodle from seeking other people’s futile approval to be you, is one of the most beautiful steps to flight, where wings flap to freedom from so many deadly traps.

Communication works best when we combine appropriateness with authenticity, finding that sweet spot where opinions are not brutally honest but delicately honest.

Brutal honesty. It’s OK to hurt me. It’s OK to hurt my feelings. It’s OK to embarrass me. As long as you do it from love. Nothing you could ever say out of love could hurt as much as it did to look into your eyes and see that you couldn’t stand me anymore.

I’m also not a fan of anything that’s brutal, including honesty. Honesty is the best policy, but honesty that’s motivated by shame, anger, fear, or hurt is not “honesty.” It’s shame, anger, fear, or hurt disguised as honesty. Just because something is accurate or factual doesn’t mean it can’t be used in a destructive manner: “Sorry. I’m just telling you the truth. These are just the facts.

My strength had always been in my amazing ability to be completely and brutally honest. Of course, the gift of honesty was in addition to my sense of humor, wit, charm, character, striking good looks, phenomenal – yet classic – sense of style, and last but not least, the tribungus slab of man meat dangling between my legs. But I motherfucking digress.

Writing hasn’t changed a thing; when the writer puts down the pen, no matter how lucid or brutally honest his insights may have been, it is back to business as usual, which means, in this case, shooting up. This is depressing, but its honesty heartens me. It disallows the delusion that the act of writing necessarily connects us to humanity, that it will help us quit noxious substances, that it will restore us to love lost, or at least serve as a consolation. Literature is not, after all, self-help.

If I were today on my deathbed, I would name my love of the color blue and making love with you as two of the sweetest sensations I knew on this earth. But are you certain-- one would like to ask-- that it was sweet? --No, not really, or not always. If I am to enforce a rule of "brutal honesty," perhaps not even often. It often happens that we treat pain as if it were the only real thing, or at least the most real thing: when it comes round, everything before it, around it, and, perhaps, in front of it, tends to seem fleeting, delusional. Of all the philosophers, Schopenhauer is the most hilarious and direct spokesperson for this idea: "As a rule we find pleasure much less pleasurable, pain much more painful than we expected." You don't believe him? He offers this quick test: "Compare the feelings of an animal engaged in eating another with those of the animal being eaten.

“Jebediah has given up on you, but I never will. I can offer you the security you desire. If you’ll but be mine, your heart will forever be sheltered in my care. Yes, we will quarrel incessantly and fight for dominance. And yes, there will be ravishes of passion, but there will also be gentle lulls. That is who we are together. You’ll never need fear that your love is not reciprocated. For although you’ve made me feel things I am not equipped for . . . I cannot stop feeling them.” His chin quavers. “You opened Pandora’s box within me. Set loose the imaginings and emotions of a mortal man. And there is no closing it ever again.” The jewels under his eyes twitch between dark purple and blue. “As much as I abhor being anything akin to human, Alyssa, I wouldn’t dare try to close it. Because that would mean losing you.” The confession is lovely and brutal—laced with honesty that I not only hear in the rasp of his voice, but feel in the quaking of his muscles as he holds my hands over my head.

It’s usually not a good idea to put the truth speaker of the tribe on speakerphone.

There are certain people from whom you can immediately intuit that their fiercest expression of warmth is brutalizing honesty.

Once an excuse has been deployed, brutal honesty is no longer an option.

Feigned interest is worse than brutal honesty.

I hug him for myself because his brutal honesty is somehow saving me from feeling worthless and defeated. I hug him for all of us because we’re no longer forces battling against one another.

Aim for Candor; Avoid Brutal Honesty: Giving honest feedback is tricky, because it can easily result in people feeling hurt or demoralized. One useful distinction, made most clearly at Pixar, is to aim for candor and avoid brutal honesty. By aiming for candor—feedback that is smaller, more targeted, less personal, less judgmental, and equally impactful—it’s easier to maintain a sense of safety and belonging in the group.

You look better,” Biana told Sophie the next morning, glancing at Stina. “Doesn’t she look better?” “Does she?” Stina asked, with her trademark brutal honesty. “I mean, she’s not so greasy anymore, but she’s still awfully pale.

God challenged me to match my outsides with my insides. I had to reevaluate my priorities and my expectations for myself. It was a time of brutal honesty, loneliness, and shattered pride. But it was drenched in a message of hope and redemption.

How much does it cost to treat leprosy? One $3 dose of antibiotic will cure a mild case; a $20 regimen of three antibiotics will cure a more severe case. The World Health Organization even provides the drugs free, but India‘s health care infrastructure is not good enough to identify the afflicted and get them the medicine they need. So, more than 100,000 people in India are horribly disfigured by a disease that costs $3 to cure. That is what it means to have a per capita GDP of $2,900.

I swear that while I live I will do what little I can to preserve and to augment the liberties of man, woman, and child. It is a question of justice, of mercy, of honesty, of intellectual development. If there is a man in the world who is not willing to give to every human being every right he claims for himself, he is just so much nearer a barbarian than I am. It is a question of honesty. The man who is not willing to give to every other the same intellectual rights he claims for himself, is dishonest, selfish, and brutal.

Once you’ve assembled a set of observations, create a new frame to inspire ideas you can test: “How might we use brutal honesty the way a barber does to build trust with new customers?” That’s a much richer and more interesting prompt than “How can we build trust quickly?” ~

Do you wish to know whether that day is coming? Watch money. Money is the barometer of a society’s virtue. When you see that trading is done, not by consent, but by compulsion—when you see that in order to produce, you need to obtain permission from men who produce nothing—when you see that money is flowing to those who deal, not in goods, but in favors—when you see that men get richer by graft and by pull than by work, and your laws don’t protect you against them, but protect them against you—when you see corruption being rewarded and honesty becoming a self-sacrifice—you may know that your society is doomed. Money is so noble a medium that it does not compete with guns and it does not make terms with brutality. It will not permit a country to survive as half-property, half-loot.

Sylvie leaned against the wall. Because she was clear about what she didn’t want, she was alone. She was no longer who she used to be, and she wasn’t yet whoever she was becoming. She was grateful that her father had prepared her for this type of hard, lonely ground. Because of him, Sylvie knew she could exist outside the boundaries of her past and future selves, for a little while, anyway. Even though it hurt. She understood now, though, why her father had tempered the brutal beauty of this kind of life—this kind of honesty—with alcohol, and why she had always been more comfortable in the library with books than in the world with people.

I believe, as I have always believed, that in honesty — a brutal yet kind and thoughtful honesty — we ultimately find not vulnerability, shame, and disgrace, but liberation, healing, and wholeness.

Honesty can sometimes be so brutal to take in. It's usual to get so drowned in perceived idealism that you can't seem to separate it from honest reality. If, and when, you can separate the two, the gaiety of fantasy is destroyed

You really aren’t very good,” she said with brutal honesty. “I am not used to striking young girls,” I said. “How could you become used to it?” She laughed. “To grow used to a thing, you must do it over and again. I expect you have never struck a woman even once.” Celean extended a hand. I took it in what I hoped was a gracious manner, and she helped pull me to my feet. “I mean where I come from, it is not right to fight with women.” “I do not understand,” she said. “Do they not

Changeling justice is brutal in its honesty. We humans love to call it barbaric, but is it not more barbaric for a proven murderer to walk free because of a legal loophole? —Editorial by Oceane Vargas for The San Francisco Gazette (January 2082)

Even though it hurt. She understood now, though, why her father had tempered the brutal beauty of this kind of life—this kind of honesty—with alcohol, and why she had always been more comfortable in the library with books than in the world with people.

1924 A revival meeting seems never to get under my skin. Perhaps I am too fish-blooded to enjoy them. But I object not so much to the emotionalism as to the lack of intellectual honesty of the average revival preacher. I do not mean to imply that the evangelists are necessarily consciously dishonest. They just don’t know enough about life and history to present the problem of the Christian life in its full meaning. They are always assuming that nothing but an emotional commitment to Christ is needed to save the soul from its sin and chaos. They seem never to realize how many of the miseries of mankind are due not to malice but to misdirected zeal and unbalanced virtue. They never help the people who corrupt family love by making the family a selfish unit in society or those who brutalize industry by excessive devotion to the prudential virtues.

He’s wondering if I saw him wipe the remnants of her off his mouth. Off his neck. He’s wondering if I saw him adjust his tie. He’s wondering if I saw him press his head to the steering wheel in dread. Or regret. He doesn’t bring his eyes back to mine. Instead, he looks down. “What’s her name?” I somehow ask the question without it sounding spiteful. I ask it with the same tone I often use to ask him about his day. How was your day, dear? What’s your mistress’s name, dear? Despite my pleasant tone, Graham doesn’t answer me. He lifts his eyes until they meet mine, but he’s quiet in his denial. I feel my stomach turn like I might physically be sick. I’m shocked at how much his silence angers me. I’m shocked at how much more this hurts in reality than in my nightmares. I didn’t think it could get worse than the nightmares. I somehow stand up, still clenching my glass. I want to throw it. Not at him. I just need to throw it at something. I hate him with every part of my soul right now, but I don’t blame him enough to throw the glass at him. If I could throw it at myself, I would. But I can’t, so I throw it toward our wedding photo that hangs on the wall across the room. In repeat the words as my wineglass hits the picture, shattering, bleeding down the wall and all over the floor. “What’s her fucking name, Graham?!” My voice is no longer pleasant. Graham doesn’t even flinch. He doesn’t look at the wedding photo, he doesn’t look at the bleeding floor beneath it, he doesn’t look at the front door, he doesn’t look at his feet. He looks me right in the eye and he says, “Andrea.” As soon as her name has fallen from his lips completely, he looks away. He doesn’t want to witness what his brutal honesty does to me.

Happiness is fleeting, fickle, often based on our circumstances....If you chase happiness, you will more often than not end up disappointed by the very nature of life. Life is hard, brutal at times, and often unfair. But following your bliss, that's entirely different. It means facing your present reality with honesty and courage and, in the midst of it all, continuing to pursue each spark of joy, even if it is a tiny pinpoint in the darkness of your life. Do not give up. Continue to look for the light in your life--it is always present somewhere, some small thing to be grateful for, something to celebrate, a way to give joy to others, a new way to grow. Move toward the light in life, seek it out no matter what. This is the essence of what it means to follow your bliss. You must be honest. Pay attention. Seek joy. [GERTRUDE LUND, to her great-niece Lolly Blanchard]

Do you want the good news or the bad news first?" I shrug. "The bad news, I guess?" "Alright. You're a horrible student." That jolts a laugh out of me. "Wow. We're getting real<\i> honest today. Cool, cool, cool. Wasn't ready for that. Can I change my mind and go with the good news instead?

When my personal world is falling apart and something or someone precious is at stake, it is frightening when God doesn't show up to hold things together, especially when I'm begging him to come....Christians are great pretenders. We tell ourselves it's not supposed to be this way for Christians, and so we resort to a cover-up....God won't and doesn't participate in this kind of masquerade. ....On every page of the Bible there is recognition that faith encounters troubles. We are broken ourselves and can't escape the brokenness and loss of our fallen world. ....An honest reading [of Job and Naomi's stories] reveals a God who doesn't explain himself. He didn't tell Job about his earlier conversation with Satan and he didn't give Naomi three good reasons why her world fell apart. Both sufferers went to their graves with their whys unanswered and the ache of their losses still intact. But somehow, because they met God in their pain, both also gained a deeper kind of trust in him that weathers adversity and refuses to let go of God. Their stories coax us to get down to the business of wrestling with God instead of chasing rainbows and to employ the same kind of brutal honesty that they did, if we dare.

You know the real reason unwinding keeps going strong, Miss Risa Ward? It isn't because of the parts we want for ourselves--it's because of the things we're willing to do to save our children. Imagine that. We're willing to sacrifice the children we don't love for the ones we do. And we call ourselves civilized!

That's what love is, Tor," Darcy said in exasperation. "It's taking a leap of faith. It's opening yourself up and letting your walls down and allowing someone to see every dark and broken corner of your soul. It's truth and honesty with yourself and them. It's raw and brutal and terrifying and real. You can't just claim to want it, but refuse to allow yourself to be vulnerable to it. That's not how it works. If you love someone, truly love them, you'll bear you soul to them and let them be the keeper of your heart no matter how fragile or damaged it might be. And if they love you then they'll do everything in their power to keep it safe, to nurture and protect it and heal over all the old wounds.

at. Being honest with yourself, like mindfulness, is a foundation for Self-Actualisation. SA people are honest, even brutally honest with themselves at every level of their lives. What they aim for is congruency between their inner and outer worlds. Honesty will eventually create harmony inside and outside of yourself. Nature cannot lie to itself, but humans can lie to

And then that society vanishes, in a spread of ruins and slaughter. “Do you wish to know whether that day is coming? Watch money. Money is the barometer of a society’s virtue. When you see that trading is done, not by consent, but by compulsion—when you see that in order to produce, you need to obtain permission from men who produce nothing—when you see that money is flowing to those who deal, not in goods, but in favors—when you see that men get richer by graft and by pull than by work, and your laws don’t protect you against them, but protect them against you—when you see corruption being rewarded and honesty becoming a self-sacrifice—you may know that your society is doomed. Money is so noble a medium that it does not compete with guns and it does not make terms with brutality. It will not permit a country to survive as half-property, half-loot.

What you just had is nothing compared to what I want to do to you. I want my head between your legs so I can lick you until you scream my name. Then I want to mount you like an animal and look into your eyes as I come inside of you. And after that? I want to take you every way there is. I want to do you from behind. I want to screw you standing up, against the wall. I want you to sit on my hips and ride me until I can’t breathe.” His stare was level, brutal in its honesty.

Patience Thinner by Stewart Stafford You are a pain in the pancreas, Dagger in my medulla oblongata, The hindmost listing straggler, In the mind's eye's neural regatta. The second wheel of a unicycle, The third eye blind of a cyclops, Banana skin for a monkey's uncle, And a barber to overgrown mops You are thermals in a heatwave, An umbrella when the rain stops, A quiet tailor in a nudist camp, And shoe polish for flip-flops. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.

I’m not a man, Mary, even though parts of me look like one. What you just had is nothing compared to what I want to do to you. I want my head between your legs so I can lick you until you scream my name. Then I want to mount you like an animal and look into your eyes as I come inside of you. And after that? I want to take you every way there is. I want to do you from behind. I want to screw you standing up, against the wall. I want you to sit on my hips and ride me until I can’t breathe.” His stare was level, brutal in its honesty.

Describe a cat for me,’ Morgo said. ‘Let it take shape in your mind. All your recollections and associations with cats.’ Thors Provoni thought about cats. It seemed a harmless thing to do as they waited out the six days until they reached Earth. ‘Opinionated’ Morgo said at last. ‘Me, you mean? On the subject?’ ‘No, I mean cats. And self-centred.’ Angrily, Provoni said, ‘A cat is loyal to its master. But shows it in a subtle way. That’s the whole point, a cat gives himself to no one, and this has been his way for millions of years, and then you manage to knock a chink in his armor, and he rubs against you and sits on your lap and purrs. So, because of his love for you, he breaks the inherent genetic behavior-pattern of two million years. What a victory that is.’ ‘Assuming the cat is sincere,’ Morgo said, ‘Rather than trying to cadge extra food.’ ‘You think a cat can be a hypocrite?’ Provoni asked. ‘I’ve never heard an insinuation of insincerity directed towards cats. Actually, much of the critisism comes from their brutal honesty; if they don’t like a person then shit, they’re of to someone else.’ ‘I think,’ Morgo said, ‘When we get to Terra I would like to have a dog.

News people—the media elite—had been a terrible scourge during his childhood. But they had gradually lost power with the advent of bidirectional, reputation-endorsed public commentary via Web links shortly after the turn of the millennium. People who published on the Web—especially people who wanted the title of "reporter"—had to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Failure was brutally and swiftly punished with electronic tar and digital feathers. Despite a rocky start, honesty had taken over as the currency of the Web—a devastating if subtle blow to manipulators of public opinion. Weakened by the Web, the media elite had died alongside their political bedfellows [...}

At Apple his status revived. Instead of seeking ways to curtail Jobs’s authority, Sculley gave him more: The Lisa and Macintosh divisions were folded together, with Jobs in charge. He was flying high, but this did not serve to make him more mellow. Indeed there was a memorable display of his brutal honesty when he stood in front of the combined Lisa and Macintosh teams to describe how they would be merged. His Macintosh group leaders would get all of the top positions, he said, and a quarter of the Lisa staff would be laid off. “You guys failed,” he said, looking directly at those who had worked on the Lisa. “You’re a B team. B players. Too many people here are B or C players, so today we are releasing some of you to have the opportunity to work at our sister companies here in the valley.” Bill Atkinson, who had worked on both teams, thought it was not only callous, but unfair. “These people had worked really hard and were brilliant engineers,” he said. But Jobs had latched onto what he believed was a key management lesson from his Macintosh experience: You have to be ruthless if you want to build a team of A players. “It’s too easy, as a team grows, to put up with a few B players, and they then attract a few more B players, and soon you will even have some C players,” he recalled. “The Macintosh experience taught me that A players like to work only with other A players, which means you can’t indulge B players.

Do you wish to know whether that day is coming? Watch money. Money is the barometer of a society’s virtue. When you see that trading is done, not by consent, but by compulsion—when you see that in order to produce, you need to obtain permission from men who produce nothing—when you see that money is flowing to those who deal, not in goods, but in favors—when you see that men get richer by graft and by pull than by work, and your laws don’t protect you against them, but protect them against you—when you see corruption being rewarded and honesty becoming a self-sacrifice—you may know that your society is doomed. Money is so noble a medium that it does not compete with guns and it does not make terms with brutality. It will not permit a country to survive as half-property, half-loot. “Whenever destroyers appear among men, they start by destroying money, for money is men’s protection and the base of a moral existence. Destroyers seize gold and leave to its owners a counterfeit pile of paper. This kills all objective standards and delivers men into the arbitrary power of an arbitrary setter of values. Gold was an objective value, an equivalent of wealth produced. Paper is a mortgage on wealth that does not exist, backed by a gun aimed at those who are expected to produce it. Paper is a check drawn by legal looters upon an account which is not theirs: upon the virtue of the victims. Watch for the day when it bounces, marked: ‘Account overdrawn.’ “When you have made evil the means of survival, do not expect men to remain good. Do not expect them to stay moral and lose their lives for the purpose of becoming the fodder of the immoral. Do not expect them to produce, when production is punished and looting rewarded. Do not ask, ‘Who is destroying the world?’ You are.

You owe me two thoughts- back from when I first came here. Tell me what you're thinking.' Rhys rubbed his neck. 'You want to know why I didn't speak or see you? Because I was so convinced you'd throw me out on my ass. I just...' He dragged a hand through his hair, and huffed a laugh. 'I figured hiding was a better alternative.' 'Who would have thought the High Lord of the Night Court could be afraid of an illiterate human?' I purred. He grinned, nudging me with an elbow. 'That's one,' I pushed. 'Tell me another thought.' His eyes fell on my mouth. 'I'm wishing I could take back that kiss Under the Mountain.' I sometimes forgot that kiss, when he'd done it to keep Amarantha from knowing that Tamlin and I had been in the forgotten hall, tangled up together. Rhysand's kiss had been brutal, demanding, and yet... 'Why?' His gaze settled on the hand I'd painted instead, as if it were easier to face. 'Because I didn't make it pleasant for you, and I was jealous and pissed off, and I knew you hated me.' Dangerous territory, I warned myself. No. Honesty, that's what it was. Honesty, and trust. I'd never had that with anyone. Rhys looked up, meeting my gaze. And whatever as on my face- I think it might have been mirrored on his: the hunger and longing and surprise. I swallowed hard, traced another line of stardust along the inside of his powerful wrist. I didn't think he was breathing.

Enjoy Your Friends’ Criticism A man’s capacity to receive another man’s direct criticism is a measure of his capacity to receive masculine energy. If he doesn’t have a good relationship to masculine energy (e.g., his father), then he will act like a woman and be hurt or defensive rather than make use of other men’s criticism. About once a week, you should sit down with your closest men friends and discuss what you are doing in your life and what you are afraid of doing. The conversation should be short and simple. You should state where you are at. Then, your friends should give you a behavioral experiment, something you can do that will reveal something to you, or grant more freedom in your life. “I want to have an affair with Denise, but I don’t want to hurt my wife. I’m afraid of her finding out,” you might say. “You’ve been talking about Denise now for six months. You are wasting your life energy on this fantasy. You should either have sex with her by tomorrow night, or drop the whole thing and never talk about it again,” your friends might say, challenging your hesitation and mediocrity. “OK. I know I’m not going to do it. I see now that I am too afraid of ruining my marriage to have an affair with Denise. My marriage is more important than my desire for Denise. I’ll drop it and refocus on the priorities in my life. Thanks.” Your close men friends should be willing to challenge your mediocrity by suggesting a concrete action you can perform that will pop you out of your rut, one way or the other. And you must be willing to offer them your brutal honesty, in the same way, if you are all to grow. Good friends should not tolerate mediocrity in one another. If you are at your edge, your men friends should respect that, but not let you off the hook. They should honor your fears, and, in love, continue to goad you beyond them, without pushing you. If you merely want support from your men friends without challenge, it bespeaks an unresolved issue you may have with your father, whether he is alive or dead. The father force is the force of loving challenge and guidance. Without this masculine force in your life, your direction becomes unchecked, and you are liable to meander in the mush of your own ambiguity and indecision. Your close men friends can provide the stark light of love—uncompromised by a fearful Mr. Nice act—by which you can see the direction you really want to go. Choose men friends who themselves are living at their edge, facing their fears and living just beyond them. Men of this kind can love you without protecting you from the necessary confrontation with reality that your life involves. You should be able to trust that these friends will tell you about your life as they see it, offer you a specific action which will shed light on your own position, and give you the support necessary to live in the freedom just beyond your edge, which is not always, or even usually, comfortable.

How could the crusaders be motivated by love and piety, considering all the brutal violence and bloodshed they committed? Not only is such a question anachronistic—violence was part and parcel of the medieval world—but centuries before Islam, Christian theologians had concluded that “the so called charity texts of the New Testament that preached passivism and forgiveness, not retaliation, were firmly defined as applying to the beliefs and behavior of the private person” and not the state, explains historian Christopher Tyerman. Christ himself distinguished between political and spiritual obligations (Matt. 22:21). He praised a Roman centurion without calling on him to “repent” by resigning from one of the most brutal militaries of history (Matt. 8: 5–13). When a group of soldiers asked John the Baptist how they should repent, he advised them always to be content with their army wages (Luke 3:14). Paul urged Christians to pray for “kings and all that are in authority” (1 Tim. 2:2). In short, “there was no intrinsic contradiction in a doctrine of personal, individual forgiveness condoning certain forms of necessary public violence to ensure the security in which, in St. Paul’s phrase, Christians ‘may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty’ (1 Tim. 2:2).”27 Or as that chief articulator of “Just War” theory, Saint Augustine (d. 430), concluded, “It is the injustice of the opposing side, that lays on the wise man the duty to wage war.

Most primary alliances can survive even the most brutal honesty; silent complacency is the kiss of death. When there is no fight left, no urgency to tell the truth or hear it, not enough self-respect to act with agency nor enough respect for others to respond to theirs, that is the real problem. More relationships drift into indifference than capsize from conflict. Practicing honesty and not overfearing confrontation is the mark of healthy people and their subsequently successful partnerships.

to live life to the fullest, and will never turn down a chance to have fun. They are lovers of spontaneity and excitement to the point of recklessness and hate the idea of settling down to a predictable life. As a result, they don’t fall in love easily but badly want someone willing to go on their journey with them. This could not be more evident than in Silas’s relationship with Charlie. While he’s loved her since he could walk, when they lose their memories, it forces them to go on a different kind of journey together. Sagittarians are the supreme realists of the zodiac, and will always choose their values over their feelings, yet will often form opinions based on their fierce emotions. At their best, Sagittarians are courageous and honest, and are the most loyal friends. They’re the life of the party, and endless fun to be around. They are one of the most generous signs in the zodiac, and their boundless optimism is infectious. At their worst, Sagittarians can be erratic and unfocused, never finishing what they start. Intense and energetic, Sagittarians speak their mind, and their brutal honesty can get them into trouble. They rebel against authority and won’t be told what to do, and their natural confidence can be taken as arrogance. Silas is a true Sagittarius in every way, and he never fails to fight for Charlie.

Happiness is fleeting, fickle, often based on our circumstances.” Aunt Gert waved a hand dismissively. “If you chase happiness, you will more often than not end up disappointed by the very nature of life. Life is hard, brutal at times, and often unfair. But following your bliss, that’s entirely different. It means facing your present reality with honesty and courage and, in the midst of it all, continuing to pursue each spark of joy, even if it is a tiny pinpoint in the darkness of your life. Do not give up. Continue to look for the light in your life—it is always present somewhere, some small thing to be grateful for, something to celebrate, a way to give joy to others, a new way to grow. Move toward the light in life; seek it out no matter what. This is the essence of what it means to follow your bliss. You must be honest. Pay attention. Seek joy.

That’s what love is, Tor,” Darcy said in exasperation. “It’s taking a leap of faith. It’s opening yourself up and letting your walls down and allowing someone to see every dark and broken corner of your soul. It’s truth and honesty with yourself and them. It’s raw and brutal and terrifying and real. You can’t just claim to want it, but refuse to allow yourself to be vulnerable to it. That’s not how it works. If you love someone, truly love them, you’ll bear your soul to them and let them be the keeper of your heart no matter how fragile or damaged it might be. And if they love you then they’ll do everything in their power to keep it safe, to nurture and protect it and heal over all the old wounds.

Honesty is a funny thing. It’s brutal and wonderful at the same time, somehow

He says he's in love with her," I said. "He told you this?" said Arthur. "Yes," I said. "Why did he tell you this?" said Arthur.

Destruction, especially in spiritual circles, is often perceived as a negative thing. In the mystery traditions, it is an often-necessary means in order to transmute into finer states of being. This is the crux of the experience of the Sephirah of Geburah, which means “severity.” It is at this stage in pathworking, also, when sacrifice is necessary. In the curanderismo traditions, swords are often used to battle and cut away aspects of a person’s lower self that no longer serve their highest good. The cut must be clean, precise, and exact. The recipient must be ready to be rid of that aspect forever. Generally known in esoteric circles as the Path of Karmic Adjustment, this is where the lords of karma operate upon us like surgeons in order to restore cosmic balance within our soul. This path is connected to Geburah, and while that Sephirah specifically calls us to banish our dross, this path is also connected to Tiphareth and so beseeches redemption. This means we must face ourselves—our entire life circumstance—as it really is and be ready and willing to change what is necessary in order keep our devotion intact. This requires brutal honesty, discernment, and a lot of courage. We also see the obvious connection to the astrological sign Libra (the scales) as well as the symbology of the tarot trump Justice.

I liked this guy Leve for his brutal honesty. He killed himself. Nothing more brutally honest than that.

Prayer is just talking to God. So why does it seem so strange? ... He wants your brutal honesty: Do you think He can't handle a few cuss words?

Think Brutal.No need to be mean, just brutally honest—and avoid the partial truths while you’re at it. Ask those you interact with to do the same. People will be more focused, more positive, and more productive when they don’t have to guess what you’re thinking. Positive or negative, make honesty the basis of all interactions. You’ll avoid wasting valuable time and energy later.

Harnessing the Power of Simplicity Think Brutal. No need to be mean, just brutally honest—and avoid the partial truths while you're at it. ... Positive or negative, make honesty the basis of all interactions. Think Small. Small groups of smart people deliver better results, higher efficiency, and improved morale. Think Minimal. The more you minimize your proposition, the more attractive it will be. Think Motion. It's just a fact of life that a degree of pressure keeps things moving ahead with purpose. Think Iconic. It will serve you well to crystallize your thinking by leveraging an image that can symbolize your idea or the spirit of it. Think Phrasal. The best way to make yourself organization look smart is to express an idea simply and with perfect clarity. Think Casual. Embrace the fact that you'll get more accomplished when you converse with people rather than present to them. Think Human. Have the boldness to look beyond the numbers and spreadsheets and allow your heart to have a say in the matter. Think Skeptic. Don't allow the discouragement of others to force compromise upon your ideas. Push.

I like ornery old ladies. They’ve lost the desire to hide how they actually feel about things, and I respect the honesty.

Riona has a kind of brutal honesty. An interesting characteristic for a lawyer. I always thought of attorneys as silver-tongued devils who would try to convince you that black is white and wrong is right. Riona is the opposite—she seems determined to state things exactly as they are and damn the consequences. Or other people’s feelings.

Blaine knew a different Eric, though, or at least had. The same bold and abrasive Eric had a genuine smile that was shy and even a little timid. The brutal, sometimes rough honesty hid a man who thought deeply about things and often hid a scared and vulnerable person.

He found her honesty refreshing. Dante couldn’t help but wonder if she realized her brutal honesty and growing spine was what … intrigued him about her in the first place. He didn’t want a simpering fool. He wanted a woman by his side. Not someone who would agree with him about everything. No, he wanted to have a challenge, and Aria provided that.

I’m wishing I could take back that kiss Under the Mountain.” I sometimes forgot that kiss, when he’d done it to keep Amarantha from knowing that Tamlin and I had been in the forgotten hall, tangled up together. Rhysand’s kiss had been brutal, demanding, and yet … “Why?” His gaze settled on the hand I’d painted instead, as if it were easier to face. “Because I didn’t make it pleasant for you, and I was jealous and pissed off, and I knew you hated me.” Dangerous territory, I warned myself. No. Honesty, that’s what it was. Honesty, and trust. I’d never had that with anyone.

Brutal honesty. It’s OK to hurt me. It’s OK to hurt my feelings. It’s OK to embarrass me. As long as you do it from love. Nothing you could ever say out of love could hurt as much as it did to look into your eyes and see that you couldn’t stand me anymore. I would rather be told to shave my pubes a thousand times than have

Pretend Simon Cowell's watching & criticising you 24/7.
 Brutal [solid] honesty will guide you to greatness. Until you know better, suck it up Cupcake!

You bring the stars, and I'll give you the moon. Plot holes in novels are like pot holes that damage your car. Don't leave any. I'm just another asshole with an opinion. Just because you hated a book, doesn't mean I didn't love it. I don't have time for fuckery. I'll always support an author, then the reader. I write to please me first. I'm that selfish & obnoxious. Only you can stand by your book. If you believe in it, be its cheerleader. The rest will come with time. Can't think of a word, make one up. Fantasy will always be my home. It's a place to escape the fuckery. When shit hits the fan, read a book. I'm human, and I make mistakes. I may never be one of the great writers, but at least I'm a damn good one. You want brutal honesty, don't ask me for my opinion. I will never be a literary great, but at least I can say that I had fun. What the world needs is a great story. No, it doesn't always have to be perfect. Give me errors, and I'll give you an author who is human. Yes, I'm arrogant enough to make up my own quotes. ;)

For pretty much my whole life, I thought I was living to better myself, to create the best life possible. About a year ago, that mindset changed. I now believe I’m here to create the best world possible. This shift from me to everyone is what altered my entire understanding of passion, and my purpose. Ben Horowitz is one of my digital mentors (meaning I follow his blog). I find him very insightful. Whenever he says (or writes about) anything, I inevitably start nodding my head until my neck is sore. Here’s an excerpt from the commencement speech he gave at Columbia, his alma mater: “Following your passion is a very me centered view of the world, and as you go through life, what you’ll find is that what you take out of the world over time—be it…money, cars, stuff, accolades—is much less important than what you put into the world. And so my recommendation would be to follow your contribution. Find the thing that you’re great at, put that into the world, contribute to others, help the world be better. That is the thing to follow." Most of the time, if you follow your contribution, it’s either already a passion, or likely to become one. Doing something you’re good at is intoxicating, as is contributing to the world. Writing and launching The Connection Algorithm was a full year of hard work. It was the result of countless hours of reflection, deeply philosophical thinking, and brutal honesty. Throughout the entire process, I felt driven, passionate, and motivated. At first, I thought this was because I was doing it on my own. But I’ve come to realize it was something else—something far more profound. Shortly after the book was released, I began receiving emails from people who had read the book and been deeply impacted by it. A highschooler in Miami. An entrepreneur in Amsterdam. A small business owner in the midwest. People were also leaving reviews on Amazon—people I didn’t know, saying the book helped them live a better life. And on my Kindle, I could see passages that people were highlighting. People weren’t just reading my book, they were taking notes on useful things to remember. The craft of writing has been unbelievably fulfilling for me. And so I’m continuing the pursuit. My motivation is no longer to make a buck, or “win at life.” Rather, I’m working to improve the world. I think of myself as an inventor, creating a new piece of art for the world to discover. When you make the world better, you get rewarded. So find your craft, and then determine the best contribution you can make with it.

change comes through brutal honesty and vulnerability before God. Only face to face with our deepest ruling passions is there hope of redeeming the fabric of our inner world.

In their brutal self-honesty and intentional stripping of illusion, the ammas remind us of our tendency to project our psychological issues onto others. This projection occurs when we find something emotionally unacceptable in us that we reject and attribute to others.

Feminism: Give her brutal sincerity and honesty and she will never ever let go and of you either.

Since then, every totalitarian movement that has carried on the conspiracy adopts this device of Professor Weishaupts.[36] It was Weishaupt’s goal to draw the power of all countries of the world to the Illuminati through a mass of insiders that operate in the shadows according to a meticulously set plan. Weishaupt dictated as the basic principle of his Order the maxim: “The end justifies the means.” He scorned all concepts of civilization, honesty, honor, decency, morality, ethics and humanity and cast them aside as the despised roots of the weakness that would betray mankind and its civilized adversaries into the hands of the conspirators. Instead, he enshrined as “virtues” lying, deceit, shiftiness, dishonesty, brutality, ruthlessness and murder. In the true etymologic sense of the word, “virtue” is defined as a “source of power”. Weishaupt dictated that these “virtues” were to be inculcated into the young, rising generations through all the devices of education, entertainment and propaganda. He directed that wholesome parental discipline over them should be destroyed so as to make the children ready prey of his ghoulish crew.[37]

Bell defined civilization in the language of a Bloomsbury connoisseur: ‘A taste for truth and beauty, tolerance, intellectual honesty, fastidiousness, a sense of humour, good manners, curiosity, a dislike of vulgarity, brutality, and over-emphasis, freedom from superstition and prudery, a fearless acceptance of the good things of life, a desire for complete self-expression and for a liberal education, a contempt for utilitarianism and philistinism, in two words – sweetness and light.’ Bell argued that ‘as a means to good and as a means to civility a leisured class is essential’. The Bloomsbury group was necessary because ‘It is only when there come together enough civilized individuals to form a nucleus from which light can radiate, and sweetness ooze, that a civilization becomes possible. The disseminators of civilization are therefore highly civilized men and women forming groups sufficiently influential to affect larger groups, and ultimately whole communities.

With striking consistency, AHA always has three ingredients: 1. A Sudden Awakening. 2. Brutal Honesty. 3. Immediate Action. Those three elements are necessary for AHA to take place. If there is an awakening and honesty but no action is taken, AHA doesn’t happen. If there is awakening and action but honesty is overlooked, AHA will be short-lived. But when God’s Word and the Holy Spirit bring these three things together, AHA is experienced.

Confronted with the Truth When Jonah confronted the people of Nineveh with the truth, how did they respond? With brutal honesty. Jonah 3:5 records: A fast was proclaimed, and all of them, from the greatest to the least, put on sackcloth. Sackcloth was an abrasive covering made of goat hair that was worn in public as a sign of repentance and grieving. Does that sound like something a respectable person would wear? Is that something you would do? Well here, even the people of privilege and power did this. Picture Donald Trump publicly fasting. Think of Kim Kardashian putting on sackcloth. This was a gesture of humility. Remember, this was a great city in Assyria with around 120 thousand people, and everyone—from the greatest to the least—fasted and put on sackcloth.

I always worried that you would find another man to take better care of you. You’re a good-looking woman and I wouldn’t have blamed you. The wife of a SEAL is not an easy job.” The quiet words held brutal honesty. “I wouldn’t have cheated on you. I had opportunities definitely, but that’s not the kind of person I am.” Harper smiled and looked down at his lap. “What?” she asked. His hard silver-grey eyes flicked up to her face, seeming to glow. “Is it wrong that I like knowing men wanted you?” Cat shook her head, laughing. “Really? I profess my commitment to our marriage and you get jacked knowing men were after me?” Harper made a face, looking sheepish. “What can I say? You’ve always turned me on but there’s something about having what another man wants that satisfies the competitive caveman in me.” By the pleasure curling in her stomach it apparently satisfied something in her as well. The desire she had banked all day returned. Cat played with her half empty water glass, swirling the base in the moisture on the table. “It always made me excited when I saw women looking at you as well,” she admitted. “But I worried when you weren’t around.” Harper narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, invading her personal space. “I never cheated. Ever. Were there opportunities? Of course. But I was never tempted. Most of the women that hit on me I couldn’t even stand to listen to.” Some knot of tangled emotion eased in her chest. Harper was a virile man. He had a healthy sex drive. When they’d been together they’d loved almost every day. But in the back of her mind had been the fear that he’d sated those drives with someone else. Tears smarted her eyes as the relief flowed through her. She looked down at her plate, unwilling to let him see. Hard fingers tilted her face up. Anger sparked in his silver eyes. “I would never cheat on you. I take my marriage vows seriously. I always have.” She nodded and a tear dripped down her cheek. “I know you have but a year and a half is a really long time. Longer than any of your deployments. I guess I kind of expected…well, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had.” “But I would have blamed me and that’s not something I need on my conscience, not along with everything else,” he told her firmly. “Besides, I’ve never been drawn to anyone else since I met you. Did I tell you you look beautiful today? Because you do.” With