Quotes About Betrayal

her face fell apart like a bride's pie crust.

him." I said: "Nerts! You seem to forget I know why Lou was killed." Beasley sat up in his chair and moved his right hand

She's a grifter, shamus. I'm a grifter. We're all grifters. So we sell each other out for a nickel. Okey.

You're as cold-blooded a beast as I ever met, Marlowe. Or can I call you Phil?" "Sure." "You can call me Vivian." "Thanks, Mrs. Regan." "Oh, go to hell, Marlowe." She went on out and didn't look back.

She didn't even look towards me as I went out. I went out into the crisp fall sunlight and got into my car. I was a nice boy, trying to get along. Yes, I was a swell guy. I liked knowing myself. I was the kind of guy who chiseled a sodden old wreck out of her life secrets to win a ten-dollar bet.

Do the two girls run around together? I think not. I think they go their separate and slightly divergent roads to perdition. Vivian is spoiled, exacting, smart and quite ruthless. Carmen is a child who likes to pull wings off flies. Neither of them has any more moral sense than

She was a tall, seedy, sad-eyed blonde who had once been a policewoman and had lost her job when she married a cheap little check bouncer named Johnny Horne, to reform him. She hadn't reformed him, but she was waiting for him to come out so she could try again.

There is a hand behind every curtain,' " she quoted. " 'And a knife in every hand,' finished Mara.

You know what they say: 'Men have throats and daggers have sharp edges'.

All the way home, his wound pulsing with every hearbeat, he had cursed himself for a fool. How could he think she loved him? He had never been loved in his life, save perhaps by Erik and the other men who had served with him across the sea, and that was the love of comrades. He had never known the love of women, just their embrace. Twice he had found tears running down his face...

Nicholas stopped her again. "So you tried to kill her?" "Only a little. I would have stopped before she was completely dead.

Tinuva sighed again. 'Then there is no more to be said,' he replied, but now his voice was full with power, power as Bovai once remembered it and it sent a thrill through him. For this was the Morvai he had once loved, but whom he must now slay, and all the glory that had once been Tinuva's would now be his. Honour would be restored, the clan would again be whole, and Tinuva could be buried as a brother who had finally returned, through death, to his own blood.

Thousands of men had died needlessly so that two madmen could betray a good king.

should you chance to find yourself exchanging pleasantries with a moredhel woman again, she'd as soon cut your heart out as kiss you.

Hou hou, la salope, qu'ils criaient, oh le vilain dégonflé, le foireux lardé, la porcine lope, le pétochard affreux, le patriote mauvais, le marcassin maudit, la teigne vilaine, le pleutre éhonté, le poplican félon, la mauviette pouilleuse, le crassou poltron, l'ord couard, le traître pleutre qui veut laisser le tombeau de sire Jésus aux mains des païens et qui répond mal à son roi. Vive Louis de Poissy! Hou hou, la salope.

One disturbing aspect of abuse and harassment is the idea that it's not the crime that's the betrayal but the testimony about the crime. You're not supposed to tell. Abusers often assume this privilege that demands the silence of the abused, that a nonreciprocal protection be in place. Others often impose it as well, portraying the victims as choosing to ruin a career or a family, as though the assailant did not make that choice himself.

Hopefulness is risky, since it is after all a form of trust, trust in the unknown and the possible, even in discontinuity. To be hopeful is to take on a different persona, one that risks disappointment, betrayal...

Told from the man's point of view, Vertigo is awash with romantic fog, but from the woman's perspective, it's about being forced to disappear— not from the top of a tower, but in everyday life as two successive lovers make her into someone else for their own ends, a common enough tragedy.

Hopefulness is risky, since it is after all a form of trust, trust in the unknown and the possible, even in discontinuity. To be hopeful is to take on a different persona, one that risks disappointment, betrayal, and there have been major disappointments in recent years.

I didn't like crab. Not at all. My stepmother had tricked my into eating a crab sandwich once in a cafe in Cromer, told me it was tuna. I'd never forgiven her.

Siddalee looked at me like: You liar, Daddy, you big liar. I don't know why I'm thinking

The King and Queen hid in a secret cupboard in their bedroom for two hours, listening to the searchers grow cold, then warm, then cold again, then warm, and at last hot, and burning hot. The weakly King was hard to kill: when they threw him from the balcony they thought him doubly dead from bullet wounds and sword slashes, but the fingers of his right hand clasped the railing and had to be cut off before he fell to the ground, where the fingers of his left hand clutched the grass.

So I committed this horrible offense of treating my husband as if what strangers saw counted, which destroys the whole purpose of marriage, which betrays the trust which is the real point of marriage.

Croz je mrtev, Carrel zlomený a Taugwalder byl zdiskreditován. A to vÅ¡echno jen proto, že Whymper umí lépe zacházet se slovy než s cepínem.