That men saw his mask, but the bishop saw his face. That men saw his life, but the bishop saw his conscience.
When I take on a character, it's a sacrifice. There's something that you give up every time. I want to become these characters, and I want to be mysterious, but if you know too much about me, it's not going to be too much fun watching me play a character, because it's just going to be me with a mask on, instead of you believing what the mask is.
Curiosity is one of the many masks of love.
Some of us wear the mask prouder than others.
No perfume. Because I want to know how you smell - right off the bat. Don't mask it up. I need to know how you smell because I need to know how we connect. A smell is a big thing. Pheromones. Don't cover that.
I know that sometimes people fake on each other out of genuine motives to hold onto the object of their tenderest feelings. They see themselves as so inadequate that they feel forced to wear a mask in order to continuously impress the other. I do not want to "hold" you, I want you to "stay" out of your own need for me.
Meditation will drop all the masks. It is a search for the original face.
Fire is to represent truth because it destroys all sophistry and lies; and the mask is for lying and falsehood which conceal truth.
Personality is a mask you believe in.
Life will show you masks that are worth all your carnivals
It's a terrible thing to be alone - yes it is - it is - but don't lower your mask until you have another mask prepared beneath - as terrible as you like - but a mask.
The trick is not to get too fanatical about getting the accent too accurate because then that becomes a mask. What I try to do is just painting and sketching some of the sounds without obliterating my own voice.
Life can be considered as a huge wardrobe, with so many dominos hung in its cupboards, one domino per year. Now I don't see why I couldn't change my mask in this wardrobe even twice a day.
There come a time, when good man must wear mask.
Behind this mask there is more than just flesh. Beneath this mask there is an idea. . . and ideas are bulletproof.
I see behind each mask that wonder a kindred soul.
The curtain of the universe is moth-eaten, and through its holes we see nothing now but mask and ghost.
KISS is Las Vegas entertainment. A musician doesn't need the mask.
Tom's great yellow bronze mask all draped upon an iron framework. An inhibited, nerve-drawn; dropped face - as if hung on a scaffold of heavy private brooding; and thought.
Yet she felt an impostor, and already the mask had begun to bite into her face.