Best 239 quotes in «infidelity quotes» category

Reflecting on the night before, he found it extraordinary that after a lifetime of infidelities, a night with an imaginary friend was no less exciting.

Sara?” Blake’s voice is scorching and burns right through me. “Yes, sir?” “Lock the door and get over my knee. Now.

Sex Games: What Men Really Think About Sex Partners (Sexuality, Cheating

Shall I pour for you madam?” he asks. It is an appropriate question and yet he makes it sound like a scorching proposal… “Mmmm, please,” is all I manage in reply. I watch him filling the crystal flutes one at a time. He is meticulous and seems to deliberately take a long time to complete the job. The room is silent – except, it seems, for the sounds of my excited breathing. “Is there anything else I can do to help you enjoy your stay?” he probes, raising one dark eyebrow ever so slightly...

She's cuckoo, laying her egg in my nest.

Sometimes… Sometimes doubt is the opposite of faith, but sometimes doubt can be a pathway to faith. Sometimes weakness is the opposite of strength, but sometimes weakness can be the pathway to strength. Sometimes addiction is the opposite of sobriety, but sometimes addiction can be the pathway to sobriety. Sometimes infidelity is the opposite of fidelity, but sometimes infidelity can be a pathway to fidelity. Sometimes failure is the opposite of success, but sometimes failure can be the pathway to success.

Some women would not cheat, and some would not have cheated, had they each married a man whom they love … or at least like.

Some men do not know the father of 'their' children.

Soon enough the tears came but of course nobody came down to see if she was all right, it was just the slut in the kitchen who'd ruined their lives, getting drunk of neat gin and howling for her lost lunatic offer.

Since that talk with Henry, when I admitted more than I had ever admitted to myself, my life has altered and become deformed. The restlessness which was vague and nameless has become intolerably clear. Here is where it stabs me, at the center of the most perfect, the most steadfast structure, marriage. When this shakes, then my whole life crumbles. My love for Hugo has become fraternal. I look almost with horror at this change, which is not sudden, but slow in appearing on the surface. I had closed my eyes to all the signs. Above all, I dreaded admitting that I didn't want Hugo's passion. I had counted on the ease with which I would distribute my body. But it is not true. It was never true. When I rushed towards Henry, it was all Henry. I am frightened because I have realized the full extent of my imprisonment. Hugo has sequestered me, fostered my love of solitude. I regret now all those years when he gave me nothing but his love and I turned into myself for the rest. Starved, dangerous years. I should break up my whole life, and I cannot do it. My life is not as important as Hugo's, and Henry doesn't need me because he has June. But whatever in me has grown outside and beyond Hugo will go on.

Stray cats are like two-timing men. He got tired of you and took off. He doesn't find anyone new? He'll come slinking back. By then, if you're smart, you'll have decided you're better without him.

Straddling him intimately, he slides his hands up my thighs, pushing the silk aside and caressing my pale, exposed skin. Even against his uniform, I can feel his hardness. His body feels taut and poised for action.

The doubts, strong as they were, were rousing more than hesitation. Her eyes drifted closed, fingertips sliding over the silk and lace panties she wore. Larry could never know how many times they’d been pulled aside in a rush of unbridled lust, how the side had been carefully stitched after they’d been ripped from her in a bar bathroom a few years ago by a man whose name she didn’t even know. She found her fingers at the seam, her breath shallow and shaking as she remembered the way his rough, callused fingers felt inside her, the ache of his teeth at her shoulder, the sound of his growling moans as he gripped her hair and plunged deep into her throat. She could still smell the whiskey on his breath, the stifling cloud of smoke that permeated every part of the hole-in-the-wall bar

That instant proved to me that it was not the first, almost unemotional, sighting of a potential lover that was significant, but the second, the moment not of recognition but of confirmation, so that every other consideration is irrelevant, as if it might have mattered at some point in the past but no longer had any currency in the charged wordless exchange that seals the matter for ever, regardless of the dangers thus incurred and whatever the cost.

The fact that the person who you are sleeping with is also sleeping with another person or other people does not necessarily mean that he or she does not love you. And the fact that you are the only person who someone is sleeping with does not necessarily mean that he or she loves you.

The punishment of vertical rending was given to those who had destroyed marriages to satisfy their own lust.

The central attitudes driving the Player are: Women were put on this earth to have sex with men—especially me. Women who want sex are too loose, and women who refuse sex are too uptight. (!) It’s not my fault that women find me irresistible. (This is a word-for-word quotation from a number of my clients.) It’s not fair to expect me to refuse temptation when it’s all around me; women seduce me sometimes, and I can’t help it. If you act like you need anything from me, I am going to ignore you. I’m in this relationship when it’s convenient for me and when I feel like it. Women who want the nonsexual aspects of themselves appreciated are bitches. If you could meet my sexual needs, I wouldn’t have to turn to other women.

The fact that you do not trust your spouse or lover doesn’t necessarily mean that they are cheating on you; and the fact that you do doesn’t necessarily mean that they aren’t.

There is nothing inherently painful about being cheated on.

The number of marriages that were torn apart by prostitution is almost equal to that of those that it is keeping together.

There was so much he could have said and chose not to. “I didn’t pry into your past, Margaret. I don’t pry into your life before we met, so don’t do it to me.” And that was it, there was nothing more to say. I nodded my head and ever since I’ve made myself comfortable in this limbo of not knowing. Sleepless in this bed I made.

They had both wanted it to happen and they both wished it had not; what mattered now was that nobody else should ever know.

They may take you for a fool, promise to shower you with the world, use their canny devastating tongue to manipulate and dominate your mind, but its better to put them bulshit people at arms length rather than falling into the arms of infidelity.

Was he a bad man or just a foolish one? He didn't feel bad to himself. As a husband he believed himself to be essentially good and loyal. It just wasn't written in a man's nature to be monogamous, that was all. And he owed something to his nature even when his nature was at odds with his desire, which was to stay at home and cherish his wife. It was his nature – all nature, the rule of nature – that was the bastard, not him.

We don't know anything about people, even those with whom we share everything.

When her husband recovered, it was to shout abusively at her…. Later, when she reflected on it throughout the tedious courtroom proceedings, she realized this was the moment she had irrevocably determined to divorce her husband.

There are all kinds of ways for a relationship to be tested, even broken, some, irrevocably; it’s the endings we’re unprepared for.

The secret tugs at my sleeve. A child looking for attention. It is not a big secret. But it is not the only one either. “Strength in numbers” they say. For they are many. Many little things that – together – weigh tonnes. And take up space. And are quite noisy. The way only a lot of whispers can make noise. And they follow me. Little secrets of omission, desire, and denial. Of indulgence, hedonism, and exploration. Of peeves, passion, and deep-seated fear. Little secrets of despair and disrepair and prohibited thoroughfare.

They'll say you are bad or perhaps you are mad or at least you should stay undercover. Your mind must be bare if you would dare to think you can love more than one lover.

Virtually all women will always carry the scars and a deep sense of loss and grief from the betrayal. Whether a woman has stayed, left, or been left, it must be remembered that time is the salve on this journey towards forgiveness and healing, because it is also a process of grieving.

...What do people think about my staying with Harrison with him chasing everything that's hot and hollow?

When David Pepin first dreamed of killing his wife, he didn’t kill her himself. He dreamed convenient acts of God.

When your partner is regularly going out to bars and nightclubs and does not come home until after sunrise, it is likely that they are engaging in some form of infidelity.

While each of us must walk this path alone, we need not do so without the empathy, the encouragement and the love of others who are travelling, or have travelled, this terrain—or those who having lived life long and deep and can meet us there, with wisdom and compassion.

Why did God make women so beautiful and man with such a loving heart?

When we select a partner, we commit to a story. Yet we remain forever curious: what other stories could we have been part of? Affairs offer us a window into those other lives, a peek at the stranger within. Adultery is often the revenge of the deserted possibilities.

Yes, some mistakes leave their mark, like the infidelity stains in the backseat. But in time they do fade.

Women destroy me. I allow them to.

You can tell he never even considered the possibility of something like this happening to him. He's as out of his element hiring an investigator to snoop on his wife as he would be auditioning for a Russian ballet.

You not the only one who's got wants and needs. But I held on to you, Troy. I took all my feelings, my wants and needs, my dreams... and I buried them inside you....Cause you was my husband.

You not the only one who's got wants and needs. But I held on to you, Troy. I took all my feelings, w=my wants and needs, my dreams... and I buried them inside you....Cause you was my husband.

You see it everywhere and everyone seems to be doing it but you. You could have had it as well, and you know it, and that’s what bothers you. Your worst enemy is yourself, and sadly, you know that what you did wasn't worth what you lost.

Women are also property in our bible; adultery is a property crime in the Old Testament, not a sex crime.

You can see it as you walk through the street: people who have never recovered. You can see it on their face, in their posturing. It needn’t be that way. We really are our brothers’ and sisters’ keepers … we really are obliged to put out our hand to someone who is in that state of shock or trauma because it could be us, just as easily.

A dimly lit tavern, a willing young woman, are some of the reasons I cheat.

Around midnight I heard them shout unfaithful one and I knew right then the axe was gonna fall. It's because of me.

Adultery itself in its principle is many times nothing but a curious inquisition after, and envy of another man's enclosed pleasures: and there have been many who refused fairer objects that they might ravish an enclosed woman from her retirement and single possessor.

Bad marriages don't cause infidelity; infidelity causes bad marriages.

Because I've been on the receiving end of infidelity, I know how much it hurts.

A sceptical young man one day conversing with the celebrated Dr. Parr, observed that he would believe nothing which he could not understand. "Then, young man, your creed will be the shortest of any man's I know.