Quotes About Trust

God, why didn't you make us all dogs?

What women hate is when you turn cold to them. If you treat them like queens, they'll let you have a concubine or two outside the palace.

Because people don't believe it unless it happens to them.

Hoping for something is not the same as expecting it.

Our emotions are different but we have them. We never cast a cold eye on life or death. Don't misunderstand our seeming serenity. After all, we live in a world of perfect trust in The Maker, and we are keenly aware that humans often do not, and we feel an active sorrow for them.

Do we have to confess our loves to everyone? asked Thorne softly. Can we not keep some secrets?

Save your kisses for the world, little one. - Magnus to Lestat before going into the fire.

God triumphs on the ruins of our plans'. And maybe that is what is happening here. We make blunders, we make mistakes, and somehow new doors open, new possibilities arise, opportunities of which, we've never dreamed. Let's trust that that is what is happening here for each of us.

We are never entirely sure about each other's powers. It's all a game. I would no more have asked him how he got here, or in what manner, than I would ask a mortal man how precisely he made love to his wife.

His eyes closed for a split second and he sank against Armand's shoulder, feeling Armand's hand on his back. Far away he heard Armand's voice: "What do I do with you, my beloved? Especially now, when I myself am so afraid.

even if you make them, they'll turn on you, rob you, betray you, and take off with someone else.

he didn't know where I lived, because I think he feared, in his heart of hearts, that I didn't trust him, that my work had slowly eroded the love for him which I felt. But I did trust him...I did love him. I didn't love anyone in the world but him. I just didn't want anyone to know where I lived.

It was almost as if he had become, in his inveterate goodness, a little bit of a simpleton as is bound to happen, I think, if and when one gives oneself absolutely to God.

Divesting oneself so totally of the customary feelings of alienation and distrust that the subsequent acceptance was intellectually orgasmic.

You can sow the seeds of distrust everywhere, and lose yourself in an overgrown field.

Who else would live in such an unguarded place except a woman for whom the forest was the world, he figured. And what a gentle child of that world she seemed. But oh so foolishly trusting. Way too trusting.

But I caught up with him and he didn't resist when I put my arm around him and we walked on together like that.

But Marchent, most journalists can't be trusted. You do know that, don't you?

Who could trust language?

What if the drive to survive was a form of faith, a form of prayer?

It is a terrible thing to realize that you depend so much upon another; that your entire sense of well-being is connected to that one—that you need him, love him, that he is the chief witness of your life.

Ultimately they will all disappoint you.

Flavius has never put a single question to us as to what we were. In his mind, I found, devotion and acceptance far superseded curiosity or fear.

LOVE ALL, TRUST A FEW, DO WRONG TO NONE.