In the masquerade of society, conformity is often the most fashionable mask.
Every heart has its own skeletons, its own secrets, its own masquerade.
Masks can conceal our identities, but they can never hide the truth of our souls.
We wear the mask that grins and lies, it hides our cheeks and shades our eyes.
A masquerade is not just about hiding, but about revealing in disguise.
The truest masks are not made of cloth or porcelain, but of words and actions.
Behind every mask there is a face, and behind that a story.
To unmask the truth, one must be willing to face the discomfort of vulnerability.
The masquerade is over when you realize the mask you wear is your own face.
Behind every mask, there is a face, and behind that, a story.
A masquerade ball is a place where even the walls have ears.