Quotes About Betrayal

What shuts you up is, I think, the sight you've had of perfection: why speak if you can't manage perfect thoughts, perfect sentences? It feels like a betrayal of what you've been through. But it fades; you accept that certain compromises, closures, are required if you're to continue.

and she went on loving him, even though he had so casually abandoned her. You were my everything, she wanted to say to him, you were my sun and moon, and who will hold my head now, who will kiss my lips, who will be a father to our children, but he was a great man destined for the halls of the immortals, and these squalling brats were no more than the jetsam he let in his wake.

Prince Bolo, who didn't like his Pages to say, 'I told you so,' snapped back: 'What's this, Blabbermouth? Are you a girl?' You /noticed/, sire,' said Blabbermouth. 'No point /pretending/ any /more/.' 'You tricked us,' said Bolo, blushing. 'You tricked /me/.' Blabbermouth was outraged by Bolo's ingratitude. 'Tricking you isn't exactly /difficult/, excuse /me/,' she cried. '/Jugglers/ can do it, so why not /girls/?

How does newness come into the world? How is it born? Of what fusions, translations, conjoining is it made? How does it survive, extreme and dangerous as it is? What compromises, what deals, what betrayals of its secret nature must it make to stave off the wrecking crew, the exterminating angel, the guillotine? Is birth always a fall? Do angels have wings? Can men fly?

Perhaps it was wrong to lie with him. Now I have given him what he wanted. Now I have nothing for him, nothing held back, nothing to hold him.

can honor be expected of a man who is preparing to storm the city of his birth?

Oh, alas, alas for his debauched children, flesh of his flesh, heir to all his failings and none of his strenghts!... was it hard to judge a ten-year-old boy in this way? Yes, of course it was, but these were not boys. They were little gods, the despots of the future: born, unfortunately, to rule. He loved them. They would betray him. They were the lights of his life. They would come for him while he slept. The little assfuckers. He was waiting for their moves.

Aurora's studio she stole three charcoal sketches of me as a young boy, sketches in which my ruined hand had been wondrously metamorphosed, becoming, variously, a flower, a paintbrush and a sword. Miss Jaya took these sketches to my Dilly's flat and said they were a gift from the 'young Sahib'. Then she told Aurora that she had seen the teacher pinching them, and, excuse me, Begum Sahib, but that woman's attitude to our boy is not a moral one.

How does newness come into the world? How is it born? Of what fusions, translations, conjoinings is it made? How does it survive, extreme and dangerous as it is? What compromises, what deals, what betrayals of its secret nature must it make to stave off the wrecking crew, the exterminating angel, the guillotine? Is birth always a fall? Do angels have wings? Can men fly?

Religious moderation is the product of secular knowledge and scriptural ignorance. [...] By failing to live by the letter of the texts [scripture], while tolerating the irrationality of those who do, religious moderates betray faith and reason equally.

Of course, the liar often imagines that he does no harm as long as his lies go undetected. But the one lied to almost never shares this view. The moment we consider our dishonesty from the point of view of those we lie to, we recognize that we would feel betrayed if the roles were reversed.

False teammates are like our shadows. They keep close to us when we are all walking in the sunshine, but they are gone the instant we just go into the shade, let alone the darkness.

For a few political turncoats there is real excuse. One can hardly blame those whom one ministry have seen fit to throw overboard for having the strength to swim to the other side.

Success makes enemies of those who would have never been true friends.

Success--something your friends will never forgive you.

This is an inevitable and easily recognizable stage in every revolutionary movement: reformers must expect to be disowned by those who are only too happy to enjoy what has been won for them.

Today's friends are tomorrow's enemies.

It was a murder, nothing more. Athos

A man has carried off your mistress, a man has seduced your wife, a man has dishonored your daughter; he has rendered the whole life of one who had the right to expect from heaven that portion of happiness God has promised to every one of his creatures, an existence of misery and infamy; and you think you are avenged because you send a ball through the head, or pass a sword through the breast, of that man who has planted madness in your brain, and despair in your heart.

D'Artagnan had time to reflect that women - those gentle doves - treat one another more cruelly than bears and tigers.

Andrea was not very handsome, the hideous scoundrel

Yes, said he, yes, Anne of Austria is my true queen. Upon a word from her, I would betray my country, I would betray my king, I would betray my God.

Well, Monsieur Laporte placed her near her Majesty in order that our poor queen might at least have someone in whom she could place confidence, abandoned as she is by the king, watched as she is by the cardinal, betrayed as she is by everybody. Ah, ah!

Yes; but one gets out of prison, said Caderousse, who, with what sense was left him, listened eagerly to the conversation, and when one gets out and one's name is Edmond Dantes, one seeks revenge