Quotes About Betrayal

I, um, I have this problem. I broke up with my boyfriend, you see. And I'm pretty upset about it, so I wanted to talk to my best friend. She swallowed and looked at the black ground. The thing is, they're both you.

One of the first things Adam told me was that I was pretty, which should have been my first clue that he was a liar.

There are so many ways to betray someone. You can whisper behind his back. You can deceive him on purpose. You can deliver him into the hands of his enemy, when he trusts you. You can break a promise. The question is, if you do any of these things, are you also betraying yourself?

No matter what you do for someone-no matter if you feed him a bottle as a baby or curl up with him at night to keep him warm or give him food so he's not hungry-make one wrong move at the wrong moment, and you become someone unrecognizable.

I hate that you didn't trust me enough to tell me the truth.

Betrayal was a stone beneath the mattress of the bed you shared, something you felt digging into you no matter how you shifted position. What was the point of being able to forgive, when deep down, you both had to admit you'd never forget?

I wonder how someone can leave in the blink of an eye without you even noticing.

I hated him. Not for fooling me into trusting him, or even for beating me. But because he made me lose the compassion I had for the enemy.

The papers were caught between our bodies, a wedge to drive us apart, like any other lie.

It would be far worse to think you were passionately wanted and loved and find out that you never were

Madeline decides Jonathan is an immature, selfish asshole and that she is never talking to him again.

Kristin nods, marching ahead of Clark, who gazes as the impossible smallness of Kristin's ankles and feet. Years later, while imprisoned for drug charges, he will think of those tiny feet and know he is forever doomed for having lied to her, for having harmed something so delicate, so defenseless, so small, so weak.

Ruumiini oli pettänyt minut ja alkanut vastoin tahtoani muuttaa minua prinsessaksi.

Every friendship has its own enemy.

Someone can claim they love you and still destroy you. But someone who is a friend indeed, will love you to the end.

Oh, by the way, the plot: it almost slipped my mind. Charlie French bought my mother's pictures cheap and sold them dear to Binkie Behrens, then bought them cheap from Binkie and sold them on to Max Molyneaux. Something like that. Does it matter? Dark deeds, dark deeds. Enough.

She trained her camera on a fresh-faced hopeful but the pictures she produced were the mug-shots of a raddled old confidence trickster. Exposed, yes, that is the word

Only a wittol is certain he's been cuckolded or not

Two daiquiris withdrew into a corner of a gorgeous room and one told the other a lie.

And then many will be offended, will betray one another, and will hate one another. Then many false prophets will rise up and deceive many. And because lawlessness will abound, the love of many will grow cold. But he who endures to the end shall be saved. —MATTHEW 24:10–13

The last image I had of her was her sitting on the platform at Thorpe as a group of people stared at this distressed, weeping woman, and then her charging towards the glass of my window seat as the train pulled out of the station. I had gasped, thinking she meant to throw herself under the wheels, but no, she had simply wanted to attack me, that was all. If she had got her hands on me, she might have killed me. And I might have let her.

The notion that he had a life outside our life, outside our friendship, was deeply hurtful to me.

There's things that happen in a person's life that are so scorched in the memory and burned into the heart that there's no forgetting them. John Boyne April 28, 1789: The real-life mutiny that inspired John Boyne's novel, Mutiny on the Bounty, took place aboard the HMS Bounty 224 years ago today. Half the ship's crew, seduced by several months of good life on Tahiti, rose up against Captain William Bligh. Some of the mutineers' descendants still live on Pitcairn Island

Long before we discovered that he had fathered two children by two different women, one in Drimoleague and one in Clonakilty, Father James Monroe stood on the altar of the Church of Our Lady, Star of the Sea, in the parish of Goleen, West Cork, and denounced my mother as a whore.