Quotes About Trust

Honesty is the only way with anyone, when you'll be so close as to be living inside each other's skins.

Hold to virtue—if you can identify it—and trust that the duty set before you is the duty desired of you. And that the talents given to you are the talents you should place in the gods' service. Believe that the gods ask for nothing back that they have not first lent to you. Not even your life.

And whose fault was it that the boy swallowed down lies, when no one would feed him the truth?

If only you were willing to betray a trust, why, the most amazing range of possible actions opened up to you.

One gives you the shirt off his back, mused Des, and the other offers to help you bury bodies. I do believe you have made some new friends, Pen!

Just once, Pen thought glumly, he'd like to get an answer to prayers, instead of being delivered as one.

You looked a god in the eyes and bore witness for me, by which alone I am preserved." She took a deep breath, through his mouth. "You looked a god in the eyes. And spoke for me. There is nothing in my power that I will ever refuse you, after that.

My word was too easy to give, too hard to keep.

Yes, of course. Tomorrow . . . or you can call me whenever you're ready. You have my number?" "Yes, you gave me several of them back on Komarr. I still have them.

inside every senior tech officer was a junior tech officer who'd been on a short leash for a long time.

The gods have no hands in this world but ours.  If we fail Them, where then can They turn?

He smiled, recapturing her hand. "A very wise woman once told me—you just go on. I've never encountered any good advice that didn't boil down to that, in the end. Not even my father's." I want to be with you always, so you can make me laugh myself well.

It was a curious insight into Vorkosigan that he should so automatically accept her bare word as binding; he evidently thought along the same lines himself. The

Trust in the gods, They will supply? Hardly. He wondered suddenly if it was as hard for the gods to have faith in Ingrey as it was for him to have faith in Them, and a weird wild urge to show Them how it should be done swept him for a moment.

Loyalty must run two ways, else become betrayal in the egg.

Honesty is the only way with anyone, when you'll be so close as to be living inside each other's skins. So . . . is this Ekaterin another passing fancy?" The Count hesitated, his eyes crinkling. "Or is she the one who will love my son forever and fiercely—hold his household and estates with integrity—stand beside him through danger, and dearth, and death—and guide my grandchildren's hands when they light my funeral offering?

Prayer, he suspected... was putting one foot in front of the other. Moving all the same.

Miles looked up at his father. "Did I do the right thing, sir? Last night?" "Yes," said the Count simply. "A right thing. Perhaps not the best of all possible right things. Three days from now you may think of a cleverer tactic, but you were the man on the ground at the time. I try not to second-guess my field commanders." Miles's heart rose in his aching chest for the first time since he'd left Kyril Island. He nodded, satisfied.

What, everyone knows of Royesse Iselle's clever secretary, the man who keeps his own counsel—and hers—the Bastion of Gotorget—utterly indifferent to wealth—" "No, I'm not," Cazaril assured him earnestly. "I just dress badly. I quite like wealth.

And . . . it would be a real relief for me to have someone along I can talk to freely." Her smile tilted a little at this. "Talk, or vent?" "I—hem!—suspect this one is going to entail quite a lot of venting, yes. D'you think you can stand it?

Her hands started to reach out, but then retreated behind her back and consoled each other there. "I am so sorry. But surely you see any girl must be quite afraid to marry a man who could set her on fire with a word!" He'd dreamed of setting her alight with kisses. "Any man could set a girl on fire with a torch, but he'd have to be deranged!

Miles bowed, sitting; his floater bobbed slightly. "My horse would like you fine. He's extremely amiable, not to mention much too old and lazy to stampede anywhere. And I personally guarantee that with a Vorkosigan liveried armsman at your back, not the most benighted backcountry hick would offer you insult." Roic

The gods have no hands in this world but ours. If we fail Them, where then can They turn?

It wasn't fair, for people to go and change on him, while his back was turned being dead. To change without giving notice, or even asking permission.