Quotes About Betrayal

I love treason but hate a traitor.

I wished my wife to be not so much as suspected.

You also, Brutus my son.

The Ides of March have come.

Let me have men about me that are fat.... Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look. He thinks too much: such men are dangerous

Let me have men about me that are fat; Sleek-headed men and such as sleep o'nights: Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look; He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.

Sadness at being caught, at the incontrovertibe knowledge that she will never forgive you.

Instead of lowering your head and copping to it like a man, you pick up the journal as one might hold a bady's beshattered diaper, as one might pinch a recently benutted condom. You glance at the offending passages. Then you look at her and smile a smile your dissembling face will remember until the day you die. Baby, you say, baby, this is part of my novel. This is how you lose her.

What else she doesn't know: that the man next to her would end up being her husband and the father of her two children, that after two years together he would leave her, her third and final heartbreak, and she would never love again.

One of the ex-sucias publishes a poem about you online. It's called "El Puto

Then we fucked so that we could pretend that nothing hurtful had just happened.

A month later the law student leaves you for one of her classmates, tells you that it was great but she has to start being realistic. . . . .Later you see her with said classmate on the Yard. He's even lighter than you but he still looks unquestionably black. He's also like nine feet tall and put together like an anatomy primer. They are walking hand in hand and she looks so very happy that you try to find the space in your heart not to begrudge her.

Baby, you say, baby this is part of my novel. This is how you lose her.

Depois olhas para ela e sorris um sorriso que o teu rosto hipócrita irá recordar até ao fim dos teus dias. Querida, dizes, isto é apenas um capítulo do meu romance. É assim que a perdes.

These days I have to ask myself: What made me angrier? That Oscar, the fat loser, quit, or that Oscar, the fat loser, defied me? And I wonder: What hurt him more? That I was never really his friend, or that I pretended to be?

You glance at the offending passages. Then you look at her and smile a smile your dissembling face will remember until the day you die. Baby, you say, baby, this is part of my novel. This is how you lose her.

When your mother had confronted your brother about Mrs. del Orbe he didn't deny it. What do you want, Ma? Se metío por mis ojos. Por mis ojos my ass, she had said. Tú te metiste por su culo. That's true, your brother admitted cheerily. Y por su boca. And then your mother puched him, helpless with shame and fury, which only made him laugh.

When your mother had confronted your brother about Mrs. del Orbe he didn't deny it. What do you want, Ma? Se metío por mis ojos. Por mis ojos my ass, she had said. Tú te metiste por su culo. That's true, your brother admitted cheerily. Y por su boca. And then your mother punched him, helpless with shame and fury, which only made him laugh.

Was I really reading my roommate's journal behind his back? Of course I was.

Instead of lowering your head and copping to it like a man, you pick up the journal as one might hold a baby's beshatted diaper, as one might pinch a recently benutted condom. You glance at the offending passages. Then you look at her and smile a smile your dissembling face will remember until the day you die. Baby, you say, baby, this is part of my novel. This is how you lose her.

The lie had worked so far, but Lacey felt its softness, like a floor of rotten boards beneath her feet.

what had happened, he said he wanted to go looking for him, make him live up to his responsibilities. But what Jeanette knew and didn't say was that Bill Reynolds was married, a married man;

Nevertheless, I stabbed him.

soon enough the lies were all you had and you became that person.