Oscar Wilde‏ on the monstrous worship of facts

Our problem, then, is too strict an insistence on the truth. Relentlessly champion accuracy and you kill the imagination. Insist on proof at every turn and conversation becomes verification. The monstrous worship of facts sucks the beauty out of art, and would abort all pregnant possibilities. Without lying, there is no human interaction at all, just an exchange of data as if we were machines.