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Betrayal Quotes

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Betrayal Quotes

“He defended you, you know. He said you probably didn’t mean to hurt us, it’s just that you’re hurting. That you’re lost. You left him, the person that loved you your whole life. You left when he needed you the most, and he still defended you. Frankly, you don’t deserve that.” “I know I don’t.” She was still quiet, but her voice echoed off the walls. She had everyone’s attention. Her eyes looked shiny but her stone expression never wavered. “You should all leave.”

“You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.”

“If you mean confessing,' she said, 'we shall do that, right enough. Everybody always confesses. You can't help it. They torture you.' 'I don't mean confessing. Confession is not betrayal. What you say or do doesn't matter: only feelings matter. If they could make me stop loving you — that would be the real betrayal.' She thought it over. 'They can't do that,' she said finally. 'It's the one thing they can't do. They can make you say anything, but they can't make you believe it. They can't get inside you.' 'No,' he said a little more hopefully, 'no; that's quite true. They can't get inside you. If you can feel that staying human is worth while, even when it can't have any result whatever, you've beaten them.”

“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.”

“When pioneers are pitted in the face of an antagonizing unknown, there is nothing worse than violence met against their fellow man. The unsurmountable danger comes not from the barrage of storms, nefarious creatures, or the torments of slippery sickness, but from what you hold dearest. Betrayal strikes at the heart, just as much as the soul. The loss of one’s humanity is an unjustifiable demise, the beginning of greater evils.”

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

“The opposite of love is not hate; it is use. Use is the abuse of love; in fact, it betrays love. When we use another person, we place their needs below our own, but worse yet, we place their value and dignity below ours.”

“This is the truth of the world: you can spend years devoting your time and love to someone. You can take care of them willingly and happily. You can think you know them as well as they know themselves. You can trust them entirely. But no one, absolutely no one, will ever change unless they want to, and some are incapable of change- no matter who they are, or what they meant to you. Broken people will always find a way to justify their selfish ways. There is no such thing as a promise.”

“They saw me. Milton's smile curled off his face like unsticky tape. And I knew immediately, I was a boy band, a boondoggle, born fool. He was going to pull a Danny Zuko in Grease when Sandy says hello to him in front of the T-Birds, a Mrs. Robinson when she tells Elaine she didn't seduce Benjamin, a Daisy when she chooses Tom with the disposition of a sour kiwi over Gatsby, a self-made man, a man engorged with dreams, who didn't mind throwing a pile of shirts around a room if he wanted too. My heart landslided. My legs earthquaked.”

“How stand I, then, That have a father killed, a mother stained, Excitements of my reason and my blood, And let all sleep, while to my shame I see The imminent death of twenty thousand men That for a fantasy and trick of fame Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause, Which is not tomb enough and continent To hide the slain? O, from this time forth My thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth! He exits.”

“It’s okay if you can’t. No worries. Just an idea,” I say quickly, looking away so she won’t see how disappointed I am. “No—I mean, I want to, but—” Hana sucks in a breath. I hate this, hate how awkward we both are. “I kind of have this party”—she corrects herself quickly— “this thing I’m supposed to go to with Angelica Marston.” My stomach gets that hollowed-out feeling. It’s amazing how words can do that, just shred your insides apart. [...] A rush of hatred overwhelms me. Hatred for my life, for its narrowness and cramped spaces; hatred for Angelica Marston, with her secretive smile and rich parents; hatred for Hana, for being so stupid and careless and stubborn, first and foremost, and for leaving me behind before I was ready to be left; and underneath all those layers something else, too, some white-hot blade of unhappiness flashing in the very deepest part of me. I can’t name it, or even focus on it clearly, but somehow I understand that this—this other thing—makes me the angriest of all. [...] Despite everything, this gives me pause. In the days after the party at Roaring Brook Farms, snatches of music seemed to follow me everywhere: I heard it winging in and out of the wind, I heard it singing off the ocean and moaning through the walls of the house. Sometimes I woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, my heart pounding, with the notes sounding in my ears. But every time I was awake and trying to remember the melodies consciously, hum a few notes or recall any of the chords, I couldn’t. Hana’s staring at me hopefully, waiting for my response. For a second I actually feel bad for her. I want to make her happy, like I always did, want to see her give a whoop and put her fist in the air and flash me one of her famous smiles. But then I remember she has Angelica Marston now, and something hardens in my throat, and knowing that I’m going to disappoint her gives me a kind of dull satisfaction.”

“Many partners of addicts have told me they feel bad about themselves for staying in the relationship because of the betrayal they’ve experienced. They imagine that the people who know their past judge them to be stupid for staying with the person who’s caused them so much pain. I often counter this thinking, explaining that leaving may seem quick and easy because they can pretend they’re okay and the problem has disappeared. However, if you leave your relationship, you’ll be stuck with your pain and sorrow without the person you loved to help you sort it out. Why is this true? Because even though it feels as if your pain comes from your partner, it’s actually coming from inside you.”

“Yes, I keep the flower,” Kelsier said. “I’m not really sure why. But…do you stop loving someone just because they betray you? I don’t think so. That’s what makes the betrayal hurt so much—pain, frustration, anger…and I still loved her. I still do. How?” Vin asked. “How can you? And, how can you possibly trust people? Didn’t you learn from what she did to you?” Kelsier shrugged. “I think...I think given the choice between loving Mare—betrayal included—and never knowing her, I’d choose love. I risked, and I lost, but the risk was still worth it. It’s the same with my friends. Suspicion is healthy in our profession—but only to an extent. I’d rather trust my men than worry about what will happen if they turn on me.”

“Meg kellett szoknom, hogy át kell gondolni, mit árulok el a partneremről, hogy hogyan viselkedem nyilvánosan. Nem azért, mert szégyenlős voltam – feszengtem persze egy kicsit, de nem próbáltam titkolni a kapcsolataimat –, csak hát az akkori barátnőm, Kátya teljesen leszbofób volt. A barátai közül szinte senki sem tudott a kapcsolatunkról. (...) Követtem őt, mint egy kiskutya, a tenyeremen akartam őt hordozni, összevissza akartam őt csókolgatni, kényeztetni akartam minden egyes pillanatban. Ő meg semmibe vett engem.”

“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.”

“but only after our own respective prides slowly melted away, like a lion family ice sculpture being left near those restaurant heaters that a maître d’ was going to have to blame a waiter for so she could keep her job and he could lose his as payback for him dumping her for the ice sculptor.”