DiCaprio in The Body of Lies

One of those strong moral values the wise leaders of humanity have always prescribed to their fellow-beings is: Never lie.

A value all of us wanna be the beneficiaries of. ‘Cause, we ask, “How else does trust work? How else do we get that deep sense of security?”


All of us lie. Without exception. Why?

‘Cause, we know truth can hurt. Big time. So, we lie. All the time.

And, it works. It works big time, lubricating all joints of relationships, creating a sweet viscosity that softens all mental abrasions. So, everyone is happy.

The act of lying, therefore, becomes art of lying. It assumes an interesting – and almost a positive – character.

It soothes, it treats, it even cures…

…but, only on one condition. It has to be truthful. Its intention needs to be positive and genuine. It should aim not to hurt.

Then, it becomes as beautiful as the truth itself.

But, minus these virtues, the art of lying becomes a mere act of lying. It becomes dirty, vile and treacherous. And, its ominosity pushes the needle back from the positive end to the negative end.

The end to which it actually belongs.

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