I detest the man who hides one thing in the depth of his heart and speaks forth another.
I won't lie to you, fatherhood isn't easy like motherhood.
I too shall lie in the dust when I am dead, but now let me win noble renown.
Close to the Gates a spacious Garden lies, From the Storms defended and inclement Skies; Four Acres was the allotted Space of Ground, Fenc'd with a green Enclosure all around. Tall thriving Trees confessed the fruitful Mold: The reddening Apple ripens here to Gold, Here the blue Fig with luscious Juice overflows, With deeper Red the full Pomegranate glows, The Branch here bends beneath the weighty Pear, And verdant Olives flourish round the Year.
Urge him with truth to frame his fair replies And sure he will for Wisdom never lies.
I didn't lie! I just created fiction with my mouth!
...he'll never lie - the man is far too wise.
The stars never lie, but the astrologers lie about the stars.
It is entirely seemly for a young man killed in battle to lie mangled by the bronze spear. In his death all things appear fair.
The roaring seas and many a dark range of mountains lie between us.
Come then, put away your sword in its sheath, and let us two go up into my bed so that, lying together in the bed of love, we may then have faith and trust in each other.