Quotes About Deception

Everyone can lie, young Roger, given cause enough. Even me. It's only that it's harder for those of us who live in glass faces; we have to think up our lies ahead of time.

We thought you were dead, you bloody arsehole!" he said, furious. "Both of us! Dead! And we—we—took too much to drink one night—very much too much Ã¢â'¬Â¦ We spoke of you Ã¢â'¬Â¦ and Ã¢â'¬Â¦ Damn you, neither one of us was making love to the other—we were both fucking you!

If you could do such a thing as that-and I don't mean lying with a woman, I mean doing it and lying to me about it-then everything I've done and everything I've been-my whole life-has been a lie. And I am not prepared to admit such a thing.

I married a lady and she became a whore. I cannot complain if it should be the other way about this time." "You think I'm a whore, do you?" She wasn't sure whether to be amused or insulted. Perhaps both. "Do you normally sleep with your victims, madam?" "I wasn't asleep, Your Grace, and if you had been, I think I would have noticed. (A Fugitive Green)

Feelings aren't truth.

Respectability had its uses. I wondered idly how many spymasters had thought of using elderly ladies? You didn't hear about old women as spies—but then again, that might merely indicate how good they were at it.

met with you." "Captain Randall said you were stealing cattle

Thee is a rooster, William," Rachel said mournfully. "I saw this in thee before, but now I know it for certain." "A rooster," he repeated coldly, brushing dirt from his sleeve. "Indeed. A vain, crowing, gaudy sort of fellow—that's what you think me?

It's true!" She whirled toward Jamie, fists clenched against the cloak she still wore. "It's true! It's the Sassenach witch! How could ye do such a thing to me, Jamie Fraser?

Escorted by Murtagh, who was disguised as my groom, I had barely made it out of sight of the prison before sliding off my horse and being sick in the snow.

I concealed the burned spot in a fold of skirt, thinking how odd it was that everyone regarded women as inherently harmless. Had I been so inclined, I could easily have burgled houses and murdered hapless families from one end of the Ridge to the other.

I have had carnal knowledge of your wife." "You bugger," he whispered

oh, wait." Turning, he seized the wig he'd taken off earlier from his desk and thrust it into Grey's hands. "Disguise," he said, and smiled briefly. "You rather take the eye, John. Best if people don't notice you on the street." He snatched up the hat and crammed it on his own bare head, then unlocked the door and pulled it open, impatiently gesturing Grey ahead of him.

What the bloody hell had happened, though? How had they done it—why? He felt as though he was fevered, his mind dazed with the waves of heat that throbbed over his body. And like the half-glimpsed things in fever dreams, he saw her naked flesh, pale and shimmering with sweat in the humid night, slick under John Grey's hand Ã¢â'¬Â¦ We were both fucking you!

What, she's taken the hairs off her honeypot?

You bloody bastard!" he said under his breath. "You knew, you knew all along!" That infuriated him almost more than the horrifying revelation of his own paternity. His stepfather, whom he'd loved, whom he'd trusted more than anyone on earth—Lord John bloody Grey—had lied to him his whole life! Everyone had lied to him. Everyone.

As I leaned against the wall, trembling in the shadows, the door to the Governor's quarters opened, and the Governor came out, returning to his party. His face was flushed and his eyes shone. I could at that moment easily have murdered him, had I anything more lethal than a hairpin to hand.

If Jamie could take Lord John Grey as a lover, and hide it from me, he wasn't remotely the man I thought he was. There had to be some other explanation.

WHY DID YE never tell me that Frank Randall looked like Black Jack?

A man may smile, and smile, and be a villain

She had seen Brianna's face for a moment in the light; white as paper and hard as bone, with the eyes black holes. Her gentle, kindly mistress had vanished like smoke, taken over by a deamhan, a she-devil. Lizzie was a town lass, born long after Culloden. She had never seen the wild clansmen of the glens, or a Highlander in the grip of blood fury—but she'd heard the auld stories, and now she knew them true. A person who looked like that might do anything at all. She

I was born almost exactly nine months after my parents' marriage," he said, giving me a hard look. "Did they deceive my father? Or did my mother play the whore with her groom before she wed?

That's sort of what showbusiness is - a charade. People are basing their assumptions about you on half the facts. The rest of it just isn't true.

Donald Trump is liar-in-chief.