Quotes About Deception

I'm ever so sorry,' said Sabetha. If the words THAT WAS A LIE had suddenly sprung up behind her in letters of fire ten feet high, the effect could scarcely have added to her tone of voice.

This web of lies was growing so convoluted, so branching, and so delicate that a moth's fart might knock it to pieces—

You know who else thought lightly of them, once? The Falconer.

If what Locke is doing were larking about, corpses could get jobs as acrobats.

I have a rule of thumb—if you have a puzzle and the answers are elegant and simple, it means someone is trying to fuck you over.

My, you are in a sad state. You believe you've been poisoned?" "No," said Locke with a cough. "I fell down some fucking stairs. What's it look like?

Bearded peasant goes in one end of an alley, clean-shaven gentleman comes out the other? Really?" "It's a classic!

Three things must you take up and three things must you lose before you die: a key, a crown, a child." Patience pushed her hood up over her head. "You will die when a silver rain falls." "You're making all this shit up," said Locke. "I could be," said Patience. "I very well could be. And that's part of your punishment. Go forth now and live, Locke Lamora. Live, uncertain.

Once a Big Lie was let out in the world, it seemed to grow on its own and needed little tending or worry to bend to the situation.

Distrust everyone,' she said, 'and you can never be betrayed. Opposed, but never betrayed.

Probably Verrari," muttered the senior, who was methodically torturing a piece of ivory with a slender carving knife. He wanted it to come out like a sculpted terrace he'd seen at the Temple of Iono, alive with lovely relief and fantastical representations of drowned men taken by the Lord of the Grasping Waters. What he seemed to be producing more closely resembled a lump of white dogshit, life-size. "Sooner trust a sailing ship to a blind drunkard with no hands than a Verrari.

Do you have a name?" asked Jean. "Lots. All of them lovely and none of them true," she replied.

What?" Jean glared at Locke and ground his teeth together. "You miserable little sneak, how could you—" "What? How dare I contemplate what you were going to do to me? You self-righteous strutting cock, I'll—" "What?" shouted Jean. "—I'll throw myself at you, and you'll beat the shit out of me," said Locke. "And then you'll feel awful! How about that, huh?

So that makes us robbers of robbers," said Bug, "who pretend to be robbers working for a robber of other robbers.

We don't believe in hard work when a false face and a good line of bullshit can do so much more

I just want nice, neat little jobs from you, Lamora. I want a purse here, a sausage there. I want you to swallow your ambition, shit it out like a bad meal, and be a circumspect little teaser for about the next thousand years. Can you do that for me? Don't rob any more yellowjackets. Don't burn any more taverns. Don't start any more fucking riots. Just pretend to be a coarse-witted little cutpurse like your brothers and sisters. Clear?

Wouldn't shit on his head to give him Ã¢â'¬Â¦ shade from the sun.

Full glass is an empty promise.

Of course I'm cheating," said Chains. "Game's no fun unless you cheat. When you figure out how I'm cheating then I'll know you're starting to improve.

Locke ran his fingers under his coat lapel, then peeked at his cards and said "Ahhhh-ha," with a tone of interested pleasure. They were an astonishing constellation of crap; his worst hand yet.

There are only three people in life you can never fool—pawnbrokers, whores, and your mother.

Indeed, a murder weapon is a tool. But not all tools are murder weapons.

You're one-third bad intentions, one-third pure avarice, and one-eighth sawdust. What's left, I'll credit, must be brains.

HE BROKE the Secret Peace the first night I had him, the cheeky little bastard.