Best 1065 quotes in «betrayal quotes» category

Fake promises and real money are capable of changing the perception and action of many individuals.

False friends, like weeds, try very hard to appear genuine.

Father-daughter incest is not only the type of incest most frequently reported but also represents a paradigm of female sexual victimization. The relationship between father and daughter, adult male and female child, is one of the most unequal relationships imaginable. It is no accident that incest occurs most often precisely in the relationship where the female is most powerless. The actual sexual encounter may be brutal or tender, painful or pleasurable; but it is always, inevitably, destructive to the child. The father, in effect, forces the daughter to pay with her body for affection and care which should be freely given. p4

Feelings, rationale and values are the top qualities that make a person exceedingly human.

Finishing up my bath, I wrapped myself in a towel upon getting out of the shower. I went over to the mirror that was fogged from the steam in the atmosphere. With my hand, I swiped over it to get a full view of my face. I just stood there and stared at myself. I barely even recognized the woman I was looking at, anymore. I looked like a woman whose nose got opened up. I was feeling myself and didn’t know how to stop it. I was changing for the worst, and it wasn’t fair to my husband or the life-long vows we made to each other. What I was doing wasn’t an act of death, but if I didn’t stop, it would certainly due us apart.' *I guess this is what happens when the flesh wants what it wants.*

Finishing up my bath, I wrapped myself in a towel upon getting out of the shower. I went over to the mirror that was fogged from the steam in the atmosphere. With my hand, I swiped over it to get a full view of my face. I just stood there and stared at myself. I barely even recognized the woman I was looking at, anymore. I looked like a woman whose nose got opened up. I was feeling myself and didn’t know how to stop it. I was changing for the worst, and it wasn’t fair to my husband or the life-long vows we made to each other. What I was doing wasn’t an act of death, but if I didn’t stop, it would certainly due us apart. *I guess this is what happens when the flesh wants what it wants.* _Bijou La Valentna, I Don't Wanna Be A Murderer

...fool me once, shame on me…fool me twice…I deserved to get fucked over.

Forgiveness is the subjective and fertile ground the acorn falls upon when gifted to ourselves and others.

For love, we live For love, we die For love, we dream and get ready to be lied

For my own piece of mind, I will forget those who have screwed me over this past year and here recently, but "Aunt Karma" won't forget you. Good luck with her, I heard she's a bitch!!!

For some offenses, there is only retribution." Nora Hawks, "One Woman's Vengeance.

For everyone out there, who is watching your loved ones dancing with someone else, for the songs that you had written for them. Remember this. Not everyone can come up with beautiful compositions. It takes a heart that knows no boundaries, and a soul that shines with a light, that can make even the gods go blind. They took away your song, but not your soul. Start writing the new ones, and you will eventually find someone who will sing every song written by you, beautifully, and only for you.

Forgiveness is a transformative act because it asks you to be a more empathetic and compassionate person, thereby making you better than the person you were when you were first hurt.

For if you try to forget yourself, force your heart and thoughts to become indifferent to the sight before you and take share of that entity which seems like one of the courses of the meal.

For in other ways a woman is full of fear, defenseless, dreads the sight of cold steel; but, when once she is wronged in the matter of love, no other soul can hold so many thoughts of blood.

For me, my haters are not the ones who I have done wrong with, but the ones I have fought for.

For many years eagerly thought by your enemy to destroying your life, it's all one second of mastery for you to save your life from his deadly plans, for you to survive.

For you it may be enjoyable to betraying but do you know you are killing one innocent person who trusted on you. So keep it mind your enjoy is not free.Someone paid for your fun by His/Her life

Friendship is a living thing that lasts only as long as it is nourished with kindness, empathy and understanding.

Friendship's enemy is betrayal.

Friends are forever but life is full of disapointments

From Orient Point The art of living isn't hard to muster: Enjoy the hour, not what it might portend. When someone makes you promises, don't trust her unless they're in the here and now, and just her willing largesse free-handed to a friend. The art of living isn't hard to muster: groom the old dog, her coat gets back its luster; take brisk walks so you're hungry at the end. When someone makes you promises, don't trust her to know she can afford what they will cost her to keep until they're kept. Till then, pretend the art of living isn't hard to muster. Cooking, eating and drinking are a cluster of pleasures. Next time, don't go round the bend when someone makes you promises. Don't trust her past where you'd trust yourself, and don't adjust her words to mean more to you than she'd intend. The art of living isn't hard to muster. You never had her, so you haven't lost her like spare house keys. Whatever she opens, when someone makes you promises, don't. Trust your art; go on living: that's not hard to muster.

Gemma, I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice is as smooth as silk as he winds around the bed, his radiant, green eyes fixed on me. “I promise I won’t hurt you. Everything’s okay.” I laugh sharply as I put weight on my weak legs. “That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth, which says a lot since you’re the biggest liar I’ve ever met.

Gavriel sat stock-still. Inside him roiled such turmoil that he feared that should he move, he would smash every piece of furniture in the room, crack every pane of every window, until there was nothing but shining splinters where the parlor had been. Instead, he leaned back his head and laughed, a long, cruel laugh that did not seem to belong to the boy Roza had known. It blazed up from deep inside him, from some embers he’d always been careful never to stoke.

George stared at the dove. What would she say if she could speak to him? What would she wish for, for her father? For she, too, had been harmed by a man who had meant to show his utmost love for her. It made George wonder why love was suppose to be such a wonderful thing. As far as he could tell, love was just another excuse for causing pain.

Give love and Get Betrayal This is true same as much as Death is true

Growth is betrayal.

Ha! And I bet you didn’t even see it coming!” – Dread Emperor Traitorous the First

Hanya dengan mendengar suaramu, aku tahu bahwa kau adalah takdirku.

Hannah felt a hot pulse of anger. So this was how he saw her: as a mere instrument of his punishment, a flail or cudgel lacking any volition of her own?

Happy endings are climax of movies, in reality people die with their griefs, accept this truth and learn to deal with this , Doesn't matter heart but back must be strong, we don't know how many knives people will stabbed there

Hatred begins to emerge like love and it's not too far from love.

He didn't even attempt to smile and I knew then that I had lost him.

He felt at once betrayed and betrayer, deceived and deceiver. He was a criminal forced into crime, an unwilling whore.

He guessed he could see now, in the darkness of this room, with this new place throbbing around him, how going back could be like dying. It was the first time he had seen it that way; and from that angle, the betrayal was somehow not so huge.

He had swept her off her feet then, and was all charm and charisma but then the magic slowly diminished and finally died due to his secret betrayals over time. Thousands of little resentments had replaced the early warmth. But their hearts, although heavy with bitterness and anger at the failed expectations, had gotten used to the solace of each other’s company that often comes with years of living together, and they never stopped performing this morning ritual of their married life.

...for to be sunk, though but for an hour in your esteem is a humiliation to which I know not how to submit. -Susan

He had found that jealousy – or perhaps the fear of betrayal – was no respecter of age. Indeed, if anything, he thought getting older simply made it worse; he felt more vulnerable now.

He knew I betrayed him and yet he was rescuing me once again, maybe for the last time.

He leaned in and kissed her. His lips were dry, and tasted of gritty stone and dust. Alice's fingers curled so hard against the book that they ached, and after a moment or two she closed her eyes. It seemed like an age before he pulled away. Her lips tingled, as though he'd passed on an electric charge. "I'm sorry," he said, with a lopsided grin. "It's part of the spell." Alice had a single moment to be furious before the music of the Siren rose all around her, a quiescent orchestration building to an unexpected crescendo. As her mind drifted away on that exquisite, all-encompassing melody, the last thing she felt were his hands on hers, gently tugging the book from her slackening fingers.

He is polite; the perfect gentleman at first. Yet she knows his kindness is an act he performs for himself to justify what he’s about to do.

He learned...never to show his anger or hatred against a stronger adversary, for fear of being crushed.

Here Me You Eternally End

He realized that trust between people is what makes us happy. Any totalitarian state is based on betrayal. It needs people to inform on each other, to avoid socializing to interact only through the state and to avoid unsanctioned meetings.

He returned her gaze, yearning for sentimental solace; love which emanated from a familiar source, mattered little how bedevilling. They shared an intimate moment, a silent tête-à-tête, which seemed to confront doubts each harboured.

Her words echoed in his mind. I love you, she’d said. She loved him. Hope dawned in his face. Someone loved him, not for what he once was, but loved him as he was now. He bent to kiss her but she raised her head to look with desperation into his eyes. She had to make him understand why she couldn’t stay. “I love you.” She repeated. “I won’t let him hurt you or any of my new friends.” Enrico had never known fear. He knew it now. She would leave him. He knew she would, her sense of loyalty was matched only by his own. If she thought she could protect him by leaving, she would run rather than put his or anyone else’s life in danger. She loved him. The words made his heart sing and at the same time brought him the greatest despair he had known since Katrina had betrayed him.

...her heart filled with regret; regret for a broken marriage she knew could never be fixed and for the life she had imagined herself living which had been ripped apart, like her heart, by the man who she thought she would grow old with and be married to for the rest of her life.

(Her husband's departure ...) had picked Mildred up by the hair and dropped her down at the doorstep of insanity. From "Butterfly on F street

He's a waiter, not a Mafia stooge, so what's he going to do? Blac pepper them to death? Compliment them into a coma? Run them over with the dessert trolley?

He sells his loyalties to the highest bidder. Shouldn’t even a mercenary have morals? That’s the textbook definition of a whore!