Quotes About Betrayal

Dude," Owen said to his brother, "she's fucking insane. She pushed me in. I think she's trying to kill me. I swear to fucking god.

Your husband was fucking my dead wife and you're angry that I went to see Amy?

She slept with him once. Phoebe—well, Irene—told me she slept with her mother's fiancé when she took a course from him at college. Before he was her fiancé. He pursued her mom, just a few years later. She was horrified. She tried to stop it, the wedding. She even tried to talk to the guy, and he pretended like it never happened. She knew that if she told her mother the whole truth, her mother wouldn't believe her.

Then again, Owen also hadn't thought Irene was the kind of person to have an affair. Or the kind of person who wouldn't remind you that you'd actually

And then it finally did happen. I just lay there in shock. It hurt so bad, and I thought, "God, please, let me die." As he put himself inside me, I wanted to scream for help, but there was no one to help me. I had nowhere to hide. My mother's room, my little sister's embrace, Uncle Fred, Uncle Warren, nothing and no one would save me, and so I lay there silently, staring at the cracks in the ceiling, watching a part of me die.

Hope is my enemy. It's worse than lies. It promises and it takes back. It teases and it rips my heart out.

want the lies to end. I pull my gun from my purse and point it at him. "Who are you to me, Kayden? Who am I?" from Denial

I approach the double glass doors of the world-renowned Riptide Auction House. Nerves flutter in my belly with the idea that I'm about to do everything my mother warned me never to do—I'm about to place myself in the middle of the world that destroyed our family. But I'm also trying to save the only family I have left.

He's right. He is. But thankfully he's a dickhead who doesn't seem to know my panties are in Chris's pocket.

Lisa Renee Jones

Sisters, as you know, also have a unique relationship. This is the person who has known you your entire life, who should love you and stand by you no matter what, and yet it's your sister who knows exactly where to drive the knife to hurt you the most.

I think all women have a friend who at some point dumped them or betrayed them or deeply disappointed them. And at the same time all women have a friend who they dumped or betrayed or hurt in some way. That's universal in women's friendships.

Sisters, as you know, also have a unique relationship. This is the person who has known you your entire life, who should love you and stand by you no matter what, and yet it's your sister who knows exactly where to drive the knife to hurt you the most.

Life sucks when you find out Superman's a jerk.

If a man lies to you, don't get mad; get even. I once dated a guy who waited three months into our relationship before he told me he was married. I said "Hey, don't worry about it. I used to be a man."

Childhood? Which childhood? The one that didn't last? The one in which you learned to be afraid?

all gods were like that: the knife behind the smile, the drop of poison in the honey jar. They liked to bind you to them, make you dance on razorblades.

I can't go down there. They think I'm dead! Oh, you've remembered that. Good for you.

It is not cheerful for a girl to discover within twenty-four hours of her wedding that her husband is a hopeless drunkard, and to see him die of delirium tremens within six weeks. An experience so vivid, like lightning must blast something in a woman's conception of life. Because one man's kisses reeked of whisky the kisses of all male humanity were anathema.

aloud she said why not you ray you were involed in this as much as the resst of uswhy is it that bud never tried to do anything to you ?his armed tighted around her.'he knew the worst thing for me was a world without you

Trust is important to any relationship… and easier to come by if you get a picture of a guy's wife buck naked.

Seems to me the only difference between your friends and your enemies is how long they stand around chatting before they shoot you.

If a woman shows too often the Medusa's head, she must not be astonished if her lover is turned into stone.

FRONDOSO: Pero decidme, mi amor, ¿quién mató al comendador? LAURENCIA: Fuenteovejunica, mi bien. FRONDOSO: ¿Quién le mató? LAURENCIA: Dasme espanto. Pues, Fuenteovejuna fue. FRONDOSO: Y yo, ¿con qué te maté? LAURENCIA: ¿Con qué? Con quererte tanto.