Nobody speaks the truth when there is something they must have.

"Nobody speaks the truth when there is something they must have." Thus spoke Elizabeth Bowen, and her words resound like a solemn bell across the ages, warning all who would listen of the peril that lurks in desire. For desire, when it burns with hunger, bends the tongue, clouds the mind, and enslaves the heart. The truth, which should shine like a steady flame, is then smothered by smoke, twisted until it serves not the light but the craving. This is the frailty of man: that when the soul is consumed with want, honesty is often the first offering cast upon the altar of ambition.

The ancients themselves knew this well. Did not the poets and prophets proclaim that the fiercest battle is not fought upon the fields of war, but within the chambers of the human heart? For when a man covets power, wealth, or even love, he cloaks his speech in shadows. The words he utters may appear as reason, but they are poisoned by longing. It is not truth that escapes his lips, but a weapon of persuasion, a veil to bend others toward his desire. In such moments, the truth becomes too heavy to bear, and so it is abandoned.

History gives us sharp and unforgettable lessons. Consider Julius Caesar, who stood before the Roman Senate swearing loyalty to the Republic. His words dripped with truth-like sweetness, yet in his heart burned the hunger for power. He did not speak honesty, for he could not—not while ambition raged within him. And so the Republic, trusting his speech, handed him the crown of influence. The city that had been free became shackled, not by the sword alone, but by the tongue that had concealed its thirst. His desire made truth impossible, and Rome paid the price.

And yet, not only kings and conquerors fall prey to this deceit. In the quiet chambers of everyday life, men and women alike have bent the truth for what they must have. Think of the merchant who flatters his wares with false claims, desperate for coin. Think of the lover who promises forever, when in truth he seeks only a fleeting comfort. Think of the petitioner who swears his cause is noble, while secretly seeking his own gain. Desire gnaws at honesty, and once hunger has taken hold, truth becomes the sacrifice.

The lesson, then, is fierce and uncompromising: guard yourself in the hour of longing. Know that when your heart burns with want, your tongue will seek to betray you. In such a time, the wisest course is silence, for silence does not deceive. To speak while consumed by desire is to risk weaving falsehood into the very fabric of your soul. Let patience be your companion, and let clarity cool your blood before you let your words fly.

For what, then, is the path of the wise? It is to master desire before it masters speech. Practice restraint; when temptation urges you to twist truth, pause and weigh your words. Ask yourself: "Do I speak for truth, or do I speak for gain?" Seek counsel from those unclouded by your hunger, for they can mirror to you what your own eyes cannot see. Make honesty your shield, even when it costs you the prize you covet, for the loss of desire is lighter than the loss of integrity.

So let these words of Elizabeth Bowen be a lamp for all generations: truth and desire seldom dwell in harmony. To guard one, you must tame the other. The wise will see that what is won by deceit is never truly possessed, for it is poisoned at the root. But that which is kept with honesty becomes a treasure of the soul, a fortress against corruption, and a legacy to hand down to those who come after.

Therefore, O seeker of wisdom, hold fast to this: if there is something you must have, beware your own words. Speak less, listen more, and let truth be the master of your tongue, not the servant of your hunger. For only then will you walk upright, unashamed before the eyes of gods and men.