Quotes About Betrayal

Villains are not born—they are made.  And in the case of a Villainess, she is crafted and carved out of the fires of a broken heart and God help the man who thinks to trespass, bruise her further and then survive the encounter.

As for the high priest—the wretch who betrayed God's chosen people to Rome for some coin and the right to prance about in his spangled garments? His very existence was an insult to God. It was a blight upon the entire land. It had to be wiped away.

Why should he think me cruel Or that he is betrayed? I'd have him love the thing that was Before the world was made. W. B. Yeats, A Woman Young and Old

And how much was in this fabled wallet?" "About two hundred and fifty dollars." "Baldheaded Jaysus, and I bet you got it all in your pockets, too.

Her garbage had lied to me.

The heart that is conscious of its own integrity is ever slow to credit another´s treachery.

As many men have observed, the wrong woman can ruin your life if you let her in it.

Most guys will walk into a marriage thinking... Well I just did what I was always told to do... and I said I do. And I was a stand up guy. But I don't understand why she was fucking her Boss.

For example, if (as Dawkins argues) deceit is fundamental in animal communication, then there must be strong selection to spot deception and this ought, in turn, to select for a degree of self-deception, rendering some facts and motives unconscious so as not to betray—by the subtle signs of self-knowledge—the deception being practiced.

I think you've forgotten that this place holds a lot more than just betraying Hobgoblins. Call upon the spirits, summon fairies, raise the dead! My brother, you have the power to do so--now get off of your butt and use it!

All men were liars and he was no doubt no different—only one tongue and more tales than the dog pound.

As the cards fluttered to earth, as everyone's hand was revealed as worthless, as every point won was shown to be a pointless charade, she would tell them how wonderful this other man was, and how if she didn't see him for another thirty years she would still love him, how she would still love him if he was dead until she was dead too. But instead she watched as Harry Robertson played the right bower, and he and Keith, who always played as partners, won the hand.

and every word sounded both a defence against what he truly felt and a betrayal of all that he was.

First, I'll tell about the robbery our parents committed. Then about the murders, which happened later.

The Lady Ishil gestured. Oh, we asked. It wasn't difficult. Everyone in this pigsty of a town seems to know where you sleep. A delicately curled lip. She let him go. And with who. Ringil ignored that one. I'm a hero, Mother. What do you expect?

And now he couldn't cloak it any longer, the leaking sense of loss, more fucking loss, soaking through into the same old general, swirling sense of betrayal, years upon pissed-away years of it, made bitter and particular on his tongue now, as if Grace-of-Heaven had come wormwood into his mouth in those final clenched, pulsing seconds.

He'd already made her for Kiriath and was backing off like a poet asked to wash dishes.

In the end, she realized, he had successfully invited them all to die simply by promising to do it with them. It was all they would ask of any commander.

A robe-straining belly offered itself. I stepped in and the Tebbit knife leapt upward, unzipping. I went eye to eye with the man I was gutting. A lined, bearded visage glared back. I could smell his breath. Our faces were centimetres apart for what seemed like minutes before the realisation of what I had done detonated behind his eyes. I jerked a nod, felt the twitch of a smile in one clamped corner of my mouth.

With a lover, a wife, when you find the worst - be it infidelity or lack of love, madness or the suicidal spark - you are almost relieved. Life is as I thought it was; shall we now celebrate this disappointment?

Like what? The things Literature was all about: love, sex, morality, friendship, happiness, suffering, betrayal, adultery, good and evil, heroes and villains, guilt and innocence, ambition, power, justice, revolution, war, fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, the individual against society, success and failure, murder, suicide, death, God. And barn owls.

Heroes become traitors, traitors become martyrs.

Then I thought about Adrian. My old friend who had killed himself. And this had been the last communication he had ever received from me. A libel on his character and an attempt to destroy the first and last love affair of his life. And when I had written that time would tell, I had underestimated, or rather miscalculated: time was telling not against them, it was telling against me.

Integrity is like virginity: once lost, never recoverable