Quotes About Betrayal

You speak to Quattrocchi and he's dead. You visit Étienne Chaudron and he's dead—" "I don't know anything about that!" I bolted up, knocking my chair to the floor.

It's the same with spirit guises; show me a sweet little choirboy or a smiling mother and I'll show you the hideous fanged strigoi it really is. (Not always. Just sometimes. *Your* mother is absolutely fine, for instance. Probably.)

Julius Tallow was a fool. He appeared complacent, but like a weak swimmer out of his depth, his legs were kicking frantically under the surface, trying to keep him afloat. Whatever happened, Nathaniel did not intend to sink with him.

He'd been many things to me, Nathaniel had, most of them indescribable. But he never looked so much of a puppet as he did now. And already it had all gone wrong.

Much has happened since last we met, Bartimaeus," he went on. "Do you remember how we parted?" "No." I did. "You set light to me, old friend. Struck a match and left me burning in a copse." The crow shifted uneasily beneath the cleaver."That's a gesture of endearment in some cultures. Some hug, some kiss, some set each other on fire in small patches of woodland...

You can never totally hate someone who sang you to sleep like that, can you? Who calmed you down and eased your fears. You can feel angry and betrayed, but some part of you will always love them for being there on those scary nights, for giving you a place to run to where your nightmares couldn't follow, the one place where you could descend finally into slumber knowing, at least for the time being, that you were completely safe.

Dealing with backstabbers, there was one thing I learned. They're only powerful when you got your back turned.

But you lied again. Now you get to watch her leave out the window. Guess that's why they call it 'window pane.

that coin purse rather than sell it. With a heavy heart, Vere accepted that his brother had been a military hero, but a man of little honour.

Now that he's gone, I feel like I'm a senior citizen who gave away her life savings over the phone. And this is the crux: I never in my life believed in someone as much as I believed in him. The shame is overwhelming.

You can't trust actors.

Aquela aterradora sessão fez com que perdesse a vontade de reencontrar os velhos amigos. Como fez bem, quinze anos antes, em deixar sua convivência! Como o detestam por tê-lo feito! Enquanto ele lutava pela sobrevivência no front ocidental, eles ficavam marinando em seu desconfortável conforto, protegidos pela placa de chumbo da amarga consciência de sua mediocridade.

no solamente la pérdida de los fallecidos, sino el duelo de la confianza, la vida entera gangrenada por la mentira.

Actions do not betray, but language is filled with the danger of betrayal at any instant. This quality is what makes language both infinitely beautiful and infinitely frightening.

En política no hay amigos que valgan

Ya estaba preparando la huida, la muy cerda. Bien lo decía el proverbio chino: cuando la pobreza entra por la puerta, el amor salta por la ventana.

Six out of eight members of the first politburo of the Bolshevik Party created in November 1917 – Lev Kamenev, Nikolay Krestinsky, Leon Trotsky, Grigory Zinoviev, Andrei Bubnov, and Grigori Sokolnikov – were killed by Stalin between 1936 and 1941; only Lenin and Stalin himself died natural deaths.

Hit that back-stabber where it hurts, right in the ambition.

For instance, Visser, the Dutchman, had sold German machine guns to the Chinese, spied for the Japanese and served a term of imprisonment for killing a coolie in Batavia. He was not an easy man to handle.

It was Napoleon who said that one spy in the right place was worth twenty thousand men in the field. He was speaking of his own spy, Schul-meister, a man of amazing courage, skill, and loyalty. But when the time came to reward Schulmeister for his services it was the same Napoleon who refused him the Legion of Honor for which he had been recommended, and the same Napoleon who commented that money was the only suitable reward for

One of the songs I wrote while living there was called "Tearing Us Apart," which was about "the committee," the group of Pattie's friends whom I now blamed for coming between us.

People who bite the hand that feeds them usually lick the boot that kicks them.

Every man kills the things that he loves. Some with a look, some with flattery, the coward with a kiss.

when you're honest with yourself, often times you betray someone else!