Backstab Quotes

From the backstabbing co-worker to the meddling sister-in-law, you are in charge of how you react to the people and events in your life. You can either give negativity power over your life or you can choose happiness instead. Take control and choose to focus on what is important in your life. Those who cannot live fully often become destroyers of life.

JACE WAYLAND," she said. "Explain yourself." Jace was glaring at the cat. "I told you to bring me to Alec! Backstabing Judas." Church rolled onto his back, purring contentedly.

Watching my back is the perfect opportunity to stick a knife in it.

He brushed his lips against her forehead as he drove the knife deeper into her back.

Sometimes your dearest friend whom you reveal most of your secrets to becomes so deadly and unfriendly without knowing that they were not really your friend.

Well. I think it's safe to say that, in my absence, the power grabbing and backstabbing and political intrigue has officially reached an all-time Otherworld high.

I told you to bring me to Alec! Backstabbing Judas.

You want a friend in this city? [Washington, DC.] Get a dog!

Personally, I don't find swearing offensive. I do find, backstabbing, lying, being a judgmental asshole, cheating and fucking people over offensive, but not swearing.

I called to tell her I loved her, which was smart, because if I’d have done it in person, I’d have caught her with another man. I don’t care if he was my clone, it isn’t right and it pisses me off. I was backstabbed by myself.


What I'm primarily saying,' he says, 'is that this is a time for knowledge assimilation, not backstabbing. We learned a lesson, you and I. We personally grew. Gratitude for this growth is an appropriate response. Gratitude, and being careful never to make the same mistake twice.

Many times, you are the single most significant and glorious thing that has ever happened in the lives of some people; they sit around and talk about you over and over again throughout the years while you are out there living your life, every step that you take and every kiss that you make having absolutely nothing to do with them, at all!

Retaliation is not the answer. You're going to have to deal with mean backstabbing girls your whole life, you need to learn to be smart enough to rise above, okay? Did you kick her ass? Good girl!

People are idiots, Choo. Always remember that: people are faithless, backstabbing, weak, creepy, stupid, lazy idiots.

Cut off the dead wood before it kills the tree.' If you have friends who backstab you, get rid of them now before they hurt you.

I thought college would be different. I thought all the gossiping and backstabbing and bullshit ceased to exist once you left high school, but I guess mean girls can be found at any level of the education system.

One of the nicest things you can do is to speak kind words about someone behind his or her back.

Flight 2039 to Boston is now boarding at gate 14A," a voice announced over the PA system. Nellie sighed. "I love Irish accents." She paused. "And Australian accents. And English accents." A dreamy look came over her face. "Theo had an awesome accent." Dan snorted. "Yeah, there was just that one tiny problem. He turned out to be a two-timing, backstabbing thief.

I am grateful to those who have betrayed me… They thought they were just stabbing me in the back, but they were also cutting me free from their poisonous life.

Know this: Your own brain will lie to you. It will backstab and sabotage you to prevent ANY change.

Um, baby? You never watch soaps." He took a swig from the bottle. "All the backstabbing and cheating and fucking makes my life look normal. I like that." ~Creed

There is no fall greater than the one from a burnt bridge.

No one speaks the truth to anyone anymore. Lies either by omission or purposefully have become our national pastime. Backstabbing is an Olympic sport. Or at least it should be.

This is proof that Monday wants me dead...Wednesday wouldn't do this to me. It's laid back. Friday actually likes me! But Monday is a bitter, backstabbing treacherous day." - Thradly the Goblin.

when building a friendship bridge don't forget to construct a distruative path.

If you see something dynamic in another person, speak up. It's time to stop letting haters set the precedent, while negativity becomes the default setting.

She had to be made to understand that she can’t go mouthing off about people and not expect consequences from it.

A full-throttled deployment of the practices of strategic communication would kill candor and leave truth bereft to fend for herself in the backstabbing night of political bogeys.

And if you like lots of stealing, backstabbing, and cannibalism, then read on, because it definitely was a Golden Age for all that.

All you people with the power to help, to do anything, and what do you do instead? Spend all your time backstabbing one another.

Love is lying and tricking. Love is hard work. Love is suffocating and using. It's head-fucking and soul-ruining. It's apprehensive and back-stabbing. It's passionate. It's chilling. It's smile-giving, but neck-breaking. It's not worth it. It's so fucking worth it. It's everything I thought it was, and everything I thought it wasn't.

We should strive to make our society more like Summer Showtime: Mostly a meritocracy, despite some vicious backstabbing. Everyone gets a spot in the chorus. Bring white shorts from home.

Far too often, the best thing I can have in my hand when someone makes a promise is a really big broom so that I can sweep up the broken pieces.

Some people will lie, cheat, steal and back-stab to to get ahead...and to think, all they have to do is READ!

Trust is based on honest communication, and I find that employees become cynical when they hear half-truths. Cynicism is a cancer. It creates a metastasizing discontent that feeds on itself, leading to smarminess and fueling backstabbing.

Never trust on unknown hands, You will never know how they stand by you and back stab with their brains.

I just didn’t like humans in general. They were back-stabbing, disloyal creatures. That’s why I preferred the company of my dogs.

It's better to die by a Demon's touch than to survive an Angel's backstab-Poem by Christos C. Kallis

His workplace has become a rat’s nest of empire building, turf defense, careerism, backstabbing, betrayal, and snitchcraft.

Maybe I’m naive, but I thought college would be different. I thought all the gossiping and backstabbing and bullshit ceased to exist once you left high school, but I guess mean girls can be found at any level of the education system. It’s like visiting a farm—if you go there not expecting to see piles of cow shit everywhere, then you’re in for a rude awakening. And there’s a good SAT question for you. SCHOOL is to MEAN GIRLS as FARMS are to _______. Shit. The answer to that is shit.

is so strange, this life we lead. We search for happiness, but so much is about survival. Existence. We try to manage expectations, but really we’re treading water, wasting time, or contemplating lives we might have led. Pretty soon we’re like every other godless, money-hungry, backstabbing, jaded, jealous human being, wishing we were richer, prettier, younger, luckier, or could do it all over again.

As we’ve seen, such jerks don’t need to hold prestigious positions—they just need to be adept at recruiting allies to help them backstab, intimidate, and spread vicious lies about anybody who stands in their way.

It saddens me to see girls proudly declaring they’re not like other girls – especially when it’s 41,000 girls saying it in a chorus, never recognizing the contradiction. It’s taking a form of contempt for women – even a hatred for women – and internalizing it by saying, Yes, those girls are awful, but I’m special, I’m not like that, instead of stepping back and saying, This is a lie. The real meaning of “I’m not like the other girls” is, I think, “I’m not the media’s image of what girls should be.” Well, very, very few of us are. Pop culture wants to tell us that we’re all shallow, backstabbing, appearance-obsessed shopaholics without a thought in our heads beyond cute boys and cuter handbags. It’s a lie – a flat-out lie – and we need to recognize it and say so instead of accepting that judgment as true for other girls, but not for you.

This is Rome. Treachery and opportunism and backstabbing run in her veins like lifeblood, and if you've never had to live your life constantly looking over your shoulder, then you have no idea how dangerous it can be.

You will meet many people who try to harm you, pull you down or back stab you. Don’t worry! They can’t really succeed unless you allow them to. Fill your aura with so much love and energy that that it will disallow any efforts to harm you!

Loyalty comes before price or prize. If not, the ties that bind become constricting garrottes as creeping spinal flesh awaits a dagger's thrust.

Kiss me, woman. I command you,” the voice echoed, this time compelling her to obey. Helena’s survival instincts gave her a hard kick, jarring her back into the horrific reality of the situation. But as she tried to regain control of her body, her tongue slipped from her mouth and wet her lips. Traitorous tongue. Backstabbing lips. What the hell are you doing?

I maintain that, if everyone knew what others said about him, there would not be four friends in the world; this is evident from the quarrels caused by occasional indiscreet disclosures.

Conversely, the degree of territoriality, bitchiness, backstabbing, and vicious infighting for some reason goes way beyond what is normally encountered in other disciplines. If you are planning to enter this field, you need the hide of a rhinoceros.

[...] You didn’t think I’d let the backstabbing little hussy get away with it, did you? Not that I don’t love Jenni, but she’s the baby of the family, and she thinks she should get anything and everything she wants. Occasionally she has to be shown differently.

The idea of a small circle, of an exalted and loyal sect, except with a traitor infiltrated at its core, an informant who's not foreign to the sect, but constitutes an essential part of its structure---this was the true organizational form of any small society. One must act knowing that there's a traitor infiltrated in the ranks.

One would never know who is a sweet talker or sweet stabber. In this world, we would never really know that the one who shows agreement really hates you or the one who shows disagreement but really loves you. People are shallow shadows.

From the lowest depths of his jail cell, Joseph identifies himself for the first time with forefathers, reconnecting to his heritage despite being cut off from his family for years. Despite living in a foreign land alone amidst a foreign people, Joseph declares that he has remained true to his people’s core values. One of those values is gratitude, and for the first time Joseph acknowledges that his talents are God-given rather than earned. He has ended up in prison because of unwavering gratitude to a human master who selflessly cared for him, a devotion that mirrors his gratitude to the Divine Master. In this terrible low moment, Joseph sounds fulfilled for the first time in his life, as the principled decision to accept imprisonment provides an uplifting sense of purpose. With renewed appreciation for God’s care, Joseph challenges his fellow inmates to reject backstabbing pagan deities whose flaring egos drive them to relentlessly pursue self-aggrandizement at the expense of others. As humans naturally emulate the characteristics of their deities, Joseph prefers an ethical and compassionate Divine Mentor.

People will always have something to say about you because they’re perpetually preoccupied with avoiding what they would say about themselves.

Enemies are always born in your bloodlines. When in doubt always turn your head into your bloodlines. You will definitely find a solution to your problem!

People who talk behind you, always left behind you!

A stab from a friend cuts deeper than a stab from a foe.

Backstab me in the face? Wait, wouldn’t that be called a facestab, then?

And once I free Red, I’m gonna backstab you in the face!” “Backstab me in the face? Wait, wouldn’t that be called a facestab, then?” “Grrr! Shut up, noob!

The real you is a backstabbing sleazeball,” I said. “The old me was a backstabbing sleazeball,” Murray corrected. “Also a money-grubbing jerk and an all-around schmuck.

What I don't like is what it sometimes takes to win. Backstabbing. Manipulation. Out-and-out bribery once in a while, and not always the monetary kind.

You know, my sister used to tell me that some compliments are like a hug and a backstab at the same time.

Allegations that Medieval Studies is somehow hostile to women, or that it suppresses female voices, don’t hold water: today the field is dominated by female academics. Claims that Medieval Studies professors are just as backstabbing and careerist as those in the rest of the academy, however, would appear to be true. For every Julian of Norwich, there is a Countess Mahaut of Artois.

At least on the Ketty Jay he was surrounded by people who asked no questions, people untrained in the aristocratic arts of vicious wit and backstabbing. He rather liked that about them, actually.

If people are loving and pay attention to each other, listen to each other, are careful, all that seems to be so evil will disappear. Man is not naturally bad, man is naturally good. Everybody enjoys doing something good – everybody, without any exception. So start trusting and start opening.

They plant little seeds of poison, whispering to everyone, idealizing them to their face, and then insulting them behind their backs. “Insulting” doesn’t really even capture the subtlety of a psychopath’s gossip. Instead of overtly trashing people, psychopaths paint themselves as victims. Someone is always wronging them in one way or another. So instead of being a backstabbing gossiper, they come across as a sympathetic victim of everyone else’s bad behavior.

I really like you, Evelyn.” I looked at her sideways. She laughed at me. “I know that’s probably not something most actresses mean in this town, but I don’t want to be like most actresses. I really like you. I like watching you on-screen. I like how the moment you show up in a scene, I can’t look at anything else. I like the way your skin is too dark for your blond hair, the way the two shouldn’t go together and yet seem so natural on you. And to be honest, I like how calculating and awful you kind of are.” “I am not awful!” Celia laughed. “Oh, you definitely are. Getting me fired because you think I’ll show you up? Awful. That’s just awful, Evelyn. And walking around bragging about how you use people? Just terrible. But I really like it when you talk about it. I like how honest you are, how unashamed. So many women around here are full of crap with everything they say and do. I like that you’re full of crap only when it gets you something.” “This laundry list of compliments seems to have a lot of insults in it,” I said. Celia nodded, hearing me. “You know what you want, and you go after it. I don’t think there is anyone in this town doubting that Evelyn Hugo is going to be the biggest star in Hollywood one of these days. And that’s not just because you’re something to look at. It’s because you decided you wanted to be huge, and now you’re going to be. I want to be friends with a woman like that. That’s what I’m saying. Real friends. None of this Ruby Reilly, backstabbing, talking-about-each-other-behind-our-backs crap. Friendship. Where each of us gets better, lives better, because we know the other.” I

People have been taught to hide. They have been taught not to trust. They have been taught that man is naturally bad, that life is naturally dangerous, that unless you keep very alert you are going to be cheated and deceived. If you don’t protect yourself you will be lost. These things have been put into the unconscious from the very childhood. They have become part of our foundation and because of them we go on hiding. The reality is just the opposite: man is not naturally bad, man is naturally good. Nobody really wants to do bad, and if somebody is doing bad it simply means that he has been a victim of circumstances and situations so he has been forced to do that. No thief is happy to be a thief and no murderer is happy to be a murderer. They have been forced. In fact they are Victims; they have been compelled by the logic of situations. They have been brought up in such a way that their whole being has been poisoned.

I shook my head. Akil was right about one thing. Stefan would never understand. He spent his life killing demons. He had it simple. I’d spent my life among them. I might despise the majority of them, but I knew them. They were family. Twisted, bitter, dangerous, slippery, back-stabbing, but family all the same.

the competiton among power-mad politicians and the Machiavellian backstabbing of junior executives in a major corporation are as nothing, in terms of ruthlessness and spitefulness, when compared to the behavior of academic types who suddenly see an opportunity to climb the university ladder at the expense of one of their own.

Steel tempered by fire,” she said aloud, without thinking. “Am I?” he asked. She smiled sadly. “Aren’t you?” He let out a long, slow breath and some of the tension drained out of him. He looked at her quizzically. “You give me peace,” he said unexpectedly. “The only time I ever feel it is when I’m with you. God knows why, when you set me off like a bomb.” She searched his eyes. “Tate, Senator Holden has a reason for what he did,” she told him seriously. “I don’t pretend to know what it is, but I know him. He’s not like some politicians who lie when the truth would suit better. He has integrity. He doesn’t hold grudges and he doesn’t backstab. You know that,” she added with conviction. He scowled. “Yes, I do.” His narrow eyes searched hers. “What do you know, Cecily?” “I know archaeology,” she replied. He reached out and touched her firm little chin with hard fingers. “You’re keeping something from me,” he said in a low, deep tone. “I’m not sure why I sense that, but I do.” “You think you know all about me,” she replied, trying to draw back. “Don’t…do that,” she muttered, reaching up to catch his hair-roughened wrist in her warm fingers. His breath caught. “Fatal error, Cecily,” he said huskily, moving in, giving in to the hunger that had really brought him to her apartment at this hour of the night. “You shouldn’t have touched me…

Their lack of empathy means that they do not really feel much emotional consequence from their wrongdoing. They are also quick to blame other people for their misfortunes. If things do go south for them, they will blame everyone around them, from “backstabbing” friends to “ungrateful” family members to a “biased” media, for making them look bad.

People on the top seldom have enemies, it's most often the flattering 'friend' who stab them in the back.

Some people will lie, cheat, steal and back-stab to get ahead... and to think, all they have to do is READ.

Listen to me you piece of shit, if you ever give the press information about me, my parents or even breathe a word about me to anyone ever again, I swear to god I will make it my mission to make your life a living hell. And, believe me I’ll do it with a smile on my face the whole time. You’re a worthless excuse for a Detective and everyone here knows it. You’ve screwed your way to the top and backstabbed Gena to get into your Captain’s good books. Well look around you honey, you’re a real star. No one stopped Gena or me taking you on. I’ve currently got you in a hold, where I could snap your neck if I wanted to, and not one person is stepping forward to help you. Yeah, you’ve really made it.” - Stephanie Carovella to Sandra Barton

You mean you didn’t know that everyone here are backstabbing, gutless, social climbers who would happily suck up to Gabe when they thought it would help them with their grades and future prospects because of your Bonds, but now that they’ve been reminded that all of you are like the strongest of the Top Tier Gifted, they’re back to talking trash like the spineless pieces of shit they all are?

A lot of these new start-up founders are somewhat unsavory people. The old tech industry was run by engineers and MBAs; the new tech industry is populated by young, amoral hustlers, the kind of young guys (and they are almost all guys) who watched The Social Network and its depiction of Mark Zuckerberg as a lying, thieving, backstabbing prick—and left the theater wanting to be just like that guy.

INFJs believe overly competitive environments are harmful to the creative process. They have a visceral, instinctual aversion to workplace dynamics that set one employee against the other, and they abhor backstabbing and office politics almost as much as they despise social injustice and wasted human potential—probably because they see such behavior as a contributing factor to our society’s dysfunction.

If real rich people in the real world were this obsessed with sex, revenge, back-stabbing, and petty jealousies, how could any of them ever have had the time and intelligence to make any money in the first place?

Perhaps the sallow drunk should have taken the hint. But he needed to feel confident in his life. It was only when he drank that he felt he could be anything. He felt this precisely because his perceptions had grown so constricted that he could no longer be cognizant of his limitations, like those old people who when sight, hearing and memory slip away make unflattering remarks in loud voices about others who are still present but out of their dwindling sensory range. How amazed they’d be, if they understood that the nasty man who’d long since vanished from their apprehension like last Thursday’s television show had just now heard them denounce his nastiness! For they’d meant no harm! Backstab gossip doesn’t harm anybody, does it? It’s only steam-letting, social sport, wit, liveliness, self-comfort like complaining over an arthritic wrist.

Yeah, the Envoys. They push you to the wall, they unpick your psyche in virtual and they rebuild you with a whole lot of conditioned shit that in your saner moments you’d probably rather not have. But most of us are still real-world human. Growing up for real gives you a base flexibility that’s pretty much essential.” --- “I’m an Envoy. The strategic plan was to kill anyone who tried to backstab me. Surviving afterwards, well that’s a bonus if you can do it, but if you can’t.” I shrugged. “I’m an Envoy.

First lesson? No wonder they used this guy to tend children on the shuttle flights instead of having him teach. If you followed that little piece of wisdom, you’d be paralyzed against a vigorous enemy. Sometimes you have to commit to a fight even when you’re weak. You don’t wait till you know you’re tougher. You make yourself tougher by whatever means you can, and then you strike by surprise, you sneak up, you backstab, you blindside, you cheat, you lie, you do whatever it takes to make sure that you come out on top.

I will let you laugh now, I understand you think you are wise, But within you fear thou whom shall rise; Take the wine, Realize I am divine, And run while you may still be fine. I am awake now. You have awoken the beast, And now you are the one who must be dead.

Gurdjieff used to say ’Don’t consider!’... and he is right. What others say is their business and their problem, it has nothing to do with you. Just look into your own nature and whatsoever is joyous, go with it. That is your responsibility. You are not answerable to anybody

Worship alone is not enough. Neither is praying. Right living means making a deliberate, clean break with sin, accompanied by confession if necessary, and a resolute, careful determination to live every day in obedience to the laws of God. It means laying aside dishonesty, immorality, coarse or foul language, gossip, slander, backbiting, backstabbing, envy, jealousy, pride, selfish ambition, and lying. Right living means taking up a humble spirit of submission and service to God in which we first love God with all our heart and then love our neighbor as ourselves.

In the past few years, more and more passionate debates about the nature of SFF and YA have bubbled to the surface. Conversations about race, imperialism, gender, sexuality, romance, bias, originality, feminism and cultural appropriation are getting louder and louder and, consequently, harder to ignore. Similarly, this current tension about negative reviews is just another fissure in the same bedrock: the consequence of built-up pressure beneath. Literary authors feud with each other, and famously; yet genre authors do not, because we fear being cast as turncoats. For decades, literary writers have also worked publicly as literary reviewers; yet SFF and YA authors fear to do the same, lest it be seen as backstabbing when they dislike a book. (Small wonder, then, that so few SFF and YA titles are reviewed by mainstream journals.) Just as a culture of sexual repression leads to feelings of guilt and outbursts of sexual moralising by those most afflicted, so have we, by denying and decrying all criticism that doesn’t suit our purposes, turned those selfsame critical impulses towards censorship. Blog post: Criticism in SFF and YA

Surely the Prince of Greed and the Mother of Destruction can kick some demon-ass back to the netherworld. It might mess up your street-cred, but I’m sure an ego the size of yours can take it. Once we’ve averted disaster, you can go back to being the slippery, back-stabbing son-of-a-bitch I know so well.

Then comes idleness, which is indeed the gateway to all evils. The idle man is like unto a house which has no walls. The Devil may enter from every side and shoot at him, and tempt him from every side, for he is exposed. This idleness is the cesspool of all wicked and villainous thoughts, and the receptacle of all jabbering, backstabbing and excrement. For certain, Heaven is given to those who will labor, and not to idle folk. Also, David says, “They who do not do the labor of men shall be whipped for it.” That is to say, in Purgatory. Surely, it seems they shall be tormented by the Devil in Hell, unless they do Penitence.

Yet, despite the snappy repartee and often-witty scripts, West Wing was a remarkably silly program. Has there ever been a group of real White House staffers as admirable and lovable as the West Wing ensemble, that selfless, high-minded, public-spirited, fundamentally decent pack of . . . political operators? Sorkin’s White House existed in a Bizarro World where the Oval Office is apparently devoid of office politics. Fans of the show never saw the sort of infighting, backstabbing, and jockeying for position that appear in real-world accounts of White House life, like George Reedy’s Twilight of the Presidency and John Dean’s Blind Ambition.

No one is perfect. This is the naked truth we all have to accept. And who the hell has said there are perfect ones, by the way? We won’t ever be perfect. There are Machiavellian aspects (not that worse kind of malicious behavior) in us. One of these aspects is acting obsequiously towards others in order to gain advantage and then backstabbing them in return. I call them fawning parasites. They are the people who are fond of picking unnecessary fights and they don’t care about their actions. What’s important to them is only their side just to justify their means. Oh, I’ve just realized that the world is full of competition and others want to be just perfect jerks.

Researchers at Meta created a program called CICERO. It became an expert at playing the complex board game Diplomacy, a game in which planning long, complex strategies built around deception and backstabbing is integral. It shows how AIs could help us plan and collaborate, but also hints at how they could develop psychological tricks to gain trust and influence, reading and manipulating our emotions and behaviors with a frightening level of depth, a skill useful in, say, winning at Diplomacy or electioneering and building a political movement. The space for possible attacks against key state functions grows even as the same premise that makes AI so powerful and exciting—its ability to learn

Remove this quote from your collection “No one is perfect. This is the naked truth we all have to accept. And who the hell has said there are perfect ones, by the way? We won’t ever be perfect. There are Machiavellian aspects (not that worse kind of malicious behavior) in us. One of these aspects is acting obsequiously towards others in order to gain advantage and then backstabbing them in return. I call them fawning parasites. They are the people who are fond of picking unnecessary fights and they don’t care about their actions. What’s important to them is only their side just TO JUSTIFY THEIR MEANS. Oh, I’ve just realized that the world is full of competition and others want to be just perfect jerks.

Honor He Wrote Sonnet 20 The more you break me, the stronger I become. The more you hate me, the gentler I become. The more you mock me, the kinder I become. The more you alienate me, the braver I become. The more you betray me, the more I learn to trust. The more you disappoint me, the more I feel electrified. The more you take advantage, the more I learn to care. The more you backstab me, the more I am energized. The more you humiliate me, the more I gain humility. The more you laugh at me, the more I learn to smile. More you kick me around, more my spine is straightened. The more you drag me down, the higher I end up flying. Every bad behavior directed at me amplifies my power. The broken humans of the world make the greatest healer.

Here are some clues regarding what to look for when looking for love: •When love is present, there is very little chaos. •When love is present, there is conversation. •When love is present, there is no gossip or backstabbing. •When love is present, there is support and nurturing. •When love is present, there is acceptance. •When love is present, there is ease and room for joy. •When love is present, there is clarity. •When love is present, we feel stable. •When love is present, we can be ourselves. •When love is present, we are not consumed with worry. •When love is present, we have a sense of community. •When love is present, we feel happy. •When love is present, we live in a state of trust. •When love is present, we experience contentment.

If your enemies can't beat, you. They choose to use your own people against you to destroy, beat and defeat you. They choose people within your circle. People who you are close to you. One of your own. They will make sure that you turn against each other, because that is how you will lose your power. If you are strong enough to survive your enemies, then don’t choose self hate. It will also destroy you.

I grab Bertha the Boar's attention by yelling and waving my mighty spear. Ok, maybe I insult her mighty porcine heritage too. Regardless, she comes into range of my [Darkvision] in full charge mode. I’d practiced dodging this move with Rex and Keans a couple days ago just so I wouldn’t get murdered by the boar. Just like with the [Charge] attack of the horned rabbit, I position myself in front of a solid wall and dodge the boar’s special move at the last second, causing the creature to slam into the wall and stun itself. I know the stun will only last a short time so I already have Vrax ready to [Backstab] the boar the moment it hits the wall. Vrax does considerable damage in just a few seconds with his [Backstab] ability and his new short sword.   There’s a lesson folks. Never underestimate the little guy.   Once

He struck a dramatic pose, hands on hips.  “Et tu, Judas?” Unfazed by the theatrics, Ayden said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Blake pointed an accusing finger. “I know you melted the wires in my engine. Think you’re so smart. But you’re not the only one with mechanical ability.” “You called Logan, didn’t you.” “Of course I called Logan. He’s my mechanical ability. But that’s not the point. The point is I got it fixed and I’m here in time to pick her up. So despite your backstabbing sabotage, I’m ready to take her to school. Aurora, please get out of the,” he eyed Ayden’s car, “super exotic sports car and into my…practical hybrid.” His face fell into misery. “Come on, dude, A & E Kirk (2012-01-07). Demons at Deadnight (Divinicus Nex Chronicles series Book 1) (pp. 209-210). A&E Kirk. Kindle Edition.

Watch what you say. Stop telling lies about other people with the intention of spreading hate or character assassination. You are cursing yourself. Tomorrow you will be wondering why your things are not working out. Why you're not making it, with the qualification, connection and experience your having. Forgetting that , it is because of the karma of lies you told about other people. Proverb 18:21 | Ephesians 4:29 | Psalms 1:1

Rather than defeat the reader with a family tree which would look like an illustration of the veins and arteries of the human body drawn by a poorly informed maniac, I thought it better to start with this summary of just the heads of the family, so the sequence is clear. I give the year each ruler became Emperor and the year the ruler died. It all looks very straightforward and natural, but of course the list hides away all kinds of back-stabbing, reckless subdivision, hatred, fake piety and general failure, which can readily be relegated to the main text. To save everyone’s brains I have simplified all titles. Some fuss in this area is inevitable but I will cling under almost all circumstances to a single title for each character. To give you a little glimpse of the chaos, the unattractive Philip ‘the Handsome’ was Philip I of Castile, Philip II of Luxemburg, Philip III of Brabant, Philip IV of Burgundy, Philip V of Namur, Philip VI of Artois as well as assorted Is, IIs, IIIs and so on for other places. So when I just refer to Philip ‘the Handsome’ you should feel grateful and briefly ponder the pedantic horror-show you are spared.

At Prim’s side was a woman with a politician’s face (supercilious, sanctimonious, vacuous, terrified, smarmy, disingenuous, small-minded, vengeful, coldhearted, opportunistic, petty, deceitful, evidence-ignoring, bullying, arrogant, smug, obnoxious, contemptuous, ignorant, reactionary, condescending, patronizing, blinkered, vacillating, corrupt, morally bankrupt, blackmailing, blackmailable, dodgy, wavering, backstabbing, bought, sold, stinking rich, unqualified, sleazy, teeth-capped, kneecapping, corporate-owned, hate-mongering, fear-mongering, button-pushing, deflecting, evading, brazening, hit-song-stealing, nostalgia-worshipping, distorting, no-tax-returning, tax-evading, offshore-holding, shady-business-partnering, election-stealing, arms-dealing, collateral-damage signing-offing, hypocritically family-value bleating but sexually deviant-ing, honest-forthright-honorable—a paragon-of-integrity [lying], spiteful, unreliable, Teflon-coated, Saran-wrapped, white-breaded, xenophobic, cynical, uncomprehending of irony-ing, witless, thin-skinned, insecure, unfulfilled, blindly ambitious, power-hungry, sadistic, self-righteous, incapable of contemplation-ing, prevaricating, privileged, pampered, Ivy League–educated [in something useless like political science, economics, or law], pompous, ego-centered, centered, narcissistic, shallow, bullshitting, manipulative, backtracking, quote-denying, what-climate-changing?, alternate-truth-ing, prejudice-feeding, hate-inciting, racketeering, blame-shifting, warmongering, autocratic, megalomaniacal, possibly sociopathic, blathering, self-serving, unreliable, cliquey, cagey, crafty, cunning, daft, dull, ethically destitute, irredeemable, oil-burning, fracking [but NIMBY], self-pay-raising, self-congratulating, self-aggrandizing, but all that was just first impressions so who can say?).

Misty bit her lip — or at least that was what it looked like with the glamour. Kate could only imagine what she was doing with that mouth full of fangs. 'How do I know I can trust him? Or you?' Kate rose to her feet. 'You don’t. You never do, with people. Some things, you have to take on faith.' She turned and headed for the door, then paused and looked back. 'I don’t know how much you know about humans. I’m just guessing here, but we probably seem like a bunch of violent, paranoid, back-stabbing monkeys. ‘Cause we are. But the thing is … sooner or later, we all find ways to trust each other, even though we might get burned doing it.' Misty’s lip curled into a sneer. 'Because deep down inside, humans are all noble creatures that want to rise above their natures, right?' 'Oh, hell no,' Kate said. 'It’s just better than facing the darkness alone.' Then she turned and walked out, leaving the dumbstruck Misty behind her.

Our Best Days at Work WHEN ASKED, “WHAT was one of your best days at work?” very few of us recount the time everything went smoothly and the big project we were working on came in on time and under budget. Considering how we work so hard to make things go well, that example should count as a pretty good day at work. But strangely, the days everything goes smoothly and as planned are not the ones we remember with fondness. For most of us, we have warmer feelings for the projects we worked on where everything seemed to go wrong. We remember how the group stayed at work until 3 a.m., ate cold pizza and barely made the deadline. Those are the experiences we remember as some of our best days at work. It was not because of the hardship, per se, but because the hardship was shared. It is not the work we remember with fondness, but the camaraderie, how the group came together to get things done. And the reason is, once again, natural. In an effort to get us to help one another during times of struggle, our bodies release oxytocin. In other words, when we share the hardship, we biologically grow closer. You may be getting sick of my saying this over and over, but our bodies are trying to incentivize us to repeat behavior in our best interest. And in hard times, what better way to protect the tribe, organization or species than to make us feel good for helping one another? Our “best days at work” were the ones when we helped each other endure or overcome hardship. And if those days do not come with fond memories, it is probably because the team didn’t come together, and backstabbing and selfishness prevailed. When we work in a culture in which we are left to fend for ourselves, even a “good day at work,” from a biological perspective, is still a bad day at work. Those in the military often speak with fondness of their time deployed. It seems strange that a group living in austere conditions, with real

Fighter" [Spoken:] After all that you put me through, You think I'd despise you, But in the end I wanna thank you, 'Cause you've made me that much stronger Well I thought I knew you, thinkin' that you were true Guess I, I couldn't trust called your bluff time is up 'Cause I've had enough You were there by my side, always down for the ride But your joy ride just came down in flames 'cause your greed sold me out in shame After all of the stealing and cheating you probably think that I hold resentment for you But uh uh, oh no, you're wrong 'Cause if it wasn't for all that you tried to do, I wouldn't know Just how capable I am to pull through So I wanna say thank you 'Cause it [Chorus:] Makes me that much stronger Makes me work a little bit harder It makes me that much wiser So thanks for making me a fighter Made me learn a little bit faster Made my skin a little bit thicker Makes me that much smarter So thanks for making me a fighter Never saw it coming, all of your backstabbing Just so you could cash in on a good thing before I'd realize your game I heard you're going round playing the victim now But don't even begin feeling I'm the one to blame 'Cause you dug your own grave After all of the fights and the lies 'cause you're wanting to haunt me But that won't work anymore, no more, It's over 'Cause if it wasn't for all of your torture I wouldn't know how to be this way now and never back down So I wanna say thank you 'Cause it [Chorus] How could this man I thought I knew Turn out to be unjust so cruel Could only see the good in you Pretend not to see the truth You tried to hide your lies, disguise yourself Through living in denial But in the end you'll see YOU-WON'T-STOP-ME I am a fighter and I I ain't gonna stop There is no turning back I've had enough [Chorus] You thought I would forget But I remembered 'Cause I remembered I remembered You thought I would forget I remembered 'Cause I remembered I remembered

The first time Christina and Lachlan Meet ...Christina wasn't about to stop fighting—not until she took her last breath. Boring down with her heels, she thrashed. "Get off me, ye brute." She would hold her son in her arms this day if it was the last thing she did. And by the shift of the crushing weight on her chest, she only had moments before her life's breath completely whooshed from her lungs. The very thought of dying whilst her son was still held captive infused her with strength. With a jab, she slammed the heel of her hand across the man's chin. He flew from her body like a sack of grain. Praises be, had the Lord granted her with superhuman strength? Blinking, Christina sat up. No, no. Her strike hadn't rescued her from the pillager. A champion had. A behemoth of a man pummeled the pikeman's face with his fists. "Never. Ever." His fists moved so fast they blurred. "Harm. A. Woman!" Bloodied and battered, the varlet dropped to the dirt. A swordsman attacked her savior from behind. "Watch out," she cried, but before the words left her lips the warrior spun to his feet. Flinging his arm backward, he grabbed his assailant's wrist, stopped the sword midair and flipped the cur onto his back. Onward, he fought a rush of English attackers with his bare hands, without armor. Not even William Wallace himself had been so talented. This warrior moved like a cat, anticipating his opponent's moves before they happened. Five enemy soldiers lay on their backs. "Quickly," the man shouted, running toward her, his feet bare. No sooner had she rolled to her knees than his powerful arms clamped around her. The wind whipped beneath her feet. He planted her bum in the saddle. "Behind!" Christina screamed, every muscle in her body clenching taut. Throwing back an elbow, the man smacked an enemy soldier in the face resulting in a sickening crack. She picked up her reins and dug in her heels. "Whoa!" The big man latched onto the skirt of her saddle and hopped behind her, making her pony's rear end dip. But the frightened galloway didn't need coaxing. He galloped away from the fight like a deer running from a fox. Christina peered around her shoulder at the mass of fighting men behind them. "My son!" "Do you see him?" the man asked in the strangest accent she'd ever heard. She tried to turn back, but the man's steely chest stopped her. "They took him." "Who?" "The English, of course." The more they talked, the further from the border the galloway took them. "Huh?" the man mumbled behind her like he'd been struck in the head by a hammer. Everyone for miles knew the Scots and the English were to exchange a prisoner that day. The champion's big palm slipped around her waist and held on—it didn't hurt like he was digging in his fingers, but he pressed firm against her. The sensation of such a powerful hand on her body was unnerving. It had been eons since any man had touched her, at least gently. The truth? Aside from the brutish attack moments ago, Christina's life had been nothing but chaste. White foam leached from the pony's neck and he took in thunderous snorts. He wouldn't be able to keep this pace much longer. Christina steered him through a copse of trees and up the crag where just that morning she'd stood with King Robert and Sir Boyd before they'd led the Scottish battalion into the valley. There, she could gain a good vantage point and try to determine where the backstabbing English were heading with Andrew this time. At the crest of the outcropping, she pulled the horse to a halt. "The pony cannot keep going at this pace." The man's eyebrows slanted inward and he gave her a quizzical stare. Good Lord, his tempest-blue eyes pierced straight through her soul. "Are you speaking English?

Just as I was pulling over he started shifting in his seat, and I glanced over to see him pulling a slim black wallet out. Jesus. I pulled over to the curb in front of the square white stone home. “Don’t.” His silence was deafening as he sat there, duffel on his lap, one hand on the car door, and the other holding a slim coffee-colored leather wallet. “I’m giving you a ride as a favor. I don’t want your money,” I explained to him carefully. He started to pull out a bill from his wallet regardless. “Hey, I’m not joking. I don’t want your money.” Kulti started to shove a fifty at me. “Here.” I reached up and cupped his hand, crushing the bill between us. “I don’t want it.” “Take it.” He pushed against me. I pushed back. “No.” “Stop being stubborn and take the money,” Kulti argued, his face exasperated. Well if he thought he was the only one getting aggravated, he was dead wrong. “I said no. I don’t want it. Just get out.” It was his turn to start with the one-word replies. “No.” Screw this. I put some muscle behind it and slowly started pushing our hands back toward him. Well I made it two inches before he realized what I was doing and then began pushing back, only he was stronger and he advanced more than two inches. “Quit it. I’m not joking. Take your money.” I grunted a little, putting more weight into my push, almost futilely. Those green-brown eyes flicked up to with an even look that had annoyance written all over it. “I said I would pay you—“ “I don’t want your money, you hardheaded ass—“ Oh dear God. I stopped pushing the second I realized what I said. It must have been so unexpected that he wasn’t paying attention because the next thing that I knew, he was punching me in the shoulder. It didn’t hurt at all. But for some reason, instinct had me saying “oww” anyway. We both looked like we’d violated the other. Like I’d backstabbed him for saying ‘oww’ and I’m sure I looked at him like I couldn’t believe he had the nerve to hit me. Sure it was an accident, and an accident that didn’t hurt on top of that, but… “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, looking down at his hand like he couldn’t believe what he’d done. I opened my mouth and then I closed it. Reiner Kulti had just punched me in the shoulder. I had driven him home, argued with him over how I didn’t want his money, and then he punched me in the shoulder. I closed my eyes, pinched my nose and burst out laughing. “Get outta here,” I said when I started laughing harder. “I didn’t mean to—“ I threw my head back against the headrest and felt myself shake with how stupid this was. “I know. I know you didn’t. But just get out, it’s fine. I need to get to work before you punch me in the other shoulder.” “This isn’t funny,” he snapped. “It was an accident.” Suddenly I stopped laughing and snapped right back at him, “I know it was, jeez. I was just messing with you.” I gave him a wide-eyed look. “A joke, do you know what that is?” I mean, I’d already gone for calling him a hardheaded ass, and he hadn’t thought twice about it, but that might have been because he’d punched me immediately afterward. “Yes, I know what a joke is,” he grumbled back. Whether it was because I was tired of this shit, his shit or whatever, I found myself caring less and less who he was and how I should probably treat him differently. Maybe not totally, but at least a little bit. “I’m happy to hear that.” I scooped the fifty bucks that had fallen on my lap after the meeting of his fist and my shoulder and tossed it at him. “I really do need to get to work though, so…” I tipped my head in the direction of the door at his side, indifferent to how rude I was being. Did he look confused that I was kicking him out? I think so but he didn’t argue, and he took the wadded-up money and held onto it as he got out of the car. Straightening up, he held the door in one hand and looked inside. “Thank you.” Finally. I blinked at him and nodded. “You’re welcome.” Just like that, he shut the door.

She took the kids to church on Sunday. he didn't go. Couldn't stand the hypocrisy of all those jerks acting holy, floating a saintly foot off the floor (like levitating demons, if you asked him) until they got back into the outside's worldly sewer, returning faster-than-light-speed to their regular gossip, bigotries, and backstabbing.

If you can’t afford fancy products, know that using any symbol important to you will repel negative energy and provide energetic protection. I once encouraged a client to wear a Christian cross necklace on her back, instead of her front side, to protect herself from her backstabbing boss. Almost immediately, she felt better.

there are several huge downsides to confidential feedback. One, it doesn’t force peers to have direct conversations with each other. Therefore, it is a missed opportunity to drive a culture of direct, open feedback. In the worst cases it encourages backstabbing behavior. Two, managers have to read and synthesize all the peer feedback for all employees, since it isn’t transparent to them.

Nothing stays the same, light of truth, genuine changes. Act when time is right. Chirping harridans. Remember how rumours start. Evil backstabbing. Manipulators: commit libel and slander. Their evil hearts rot. Exercise restraint. Choose carefully whom you trust. Silence is golden. Silence is broken: defy many abuses. Don't be their doormat. Chirping happy birds. Blue skies uplift many hearts. Honest hearts sing best. ~ Angelica Hopes, Life Unfolds

Sibling abuse, triangulation, and alienation will influence your ability to trust others. The core problem isn't your lack of trust. Rather, you've experienced unhealthy dynamics with dishonest folks. You may have spent years or decades dealing with backstabbing siblings, friendships, or family members who lied to you, hurt you, and deceived you.

Whenever there is fallout, secrets come out. Carefully choose people you hang around with or people you call friends. Not everyone who is close to you wishes well for you. Some come close so they can destroy you. Not everyone is genuine happy when your life is good. Choose who confide and open to. Choose who you bring close to your circle and who you trust with your life and secrets.

The ruthless behavior of evil people often leads to their success which they have obtained through lying, betraying, being fraudulent, their fake love, backstabbing, false promises, breaking hearts, manipulating, and ruining so many people’s lives.

The Dark Cloud Is the annoying piece of shit that wants to make you feel blue Is the backstabbing ex that you foolishly believed wouldn’t cheat on you Is the sadness of a set of animals that have to fly away, especially birds Is the cutting vocabulary of nasty, vapid, evil, and stupid words

The Dark Cloud Is the abomination that decided to try destroying your childhood Is the culprit that wondered why you were ever nice or good Is the software engineer that tried to backstab you many times Is the fake friend that wanted to make sure they committed crimes

Baron Danthe watched her as she stared up at it. “I do thank you for alerting me.” “I was alerting the Emperor.” “Of course.” Danthe chuckled. “Such a life we lead. Did you ever think that stabbing people in the back would be a way to get ahead?” “It’s the way the game is played,” Sloane said, a little surprised at his openness. “I prefer flying my starship.” “And defending the Empire against – whatever.” He grinned. “Have you learned any more about the others that were involved?” “Nothing.” He gave a derisive sniff. “I don’t think we need worry too much. A single rebellious act isn’t the start of anything. This was a blip. A glitch in the system. Nothing more.” “Maybe.” Or maybe they’d awakened a sleeping gundark. Sloane decided there would be opportunities for advancement in a galaxy like that, too. “To interesting missions ahead.” She clinked her glass against his.

Elections are around the corner and elections brings evil spirits in other people. Spirit of deception, spirit of sabotaging, spirit of killing each other. Spirit of vandalism. Spirit of fighting. Spirit of lying. Spirit of looting. Spirit of stealing. Spirit of not caring. Spirit of power mongering . Spirit of division. Spirit of misleading. Spirit of backstabbing. Spirit of fraud and corruption. May God grand us leaders who are sincere and leaders who will care about people. Leaders who will be serving the people not serving their stomach or singing for their meal. Leaders who will unite people. 1 John 4:1 | 1 Timothy 2:1-4

Many will resolutely declare their allegiance to us. And in time, that allegiance will inevitably come into direct conflict with their allegiance to themselves. Therefore, when the moment of crisis arises, the crisis is less about the crisis itself and more about the crisis of friends having forgotten the meaning of allegiance.

In their mutual desire for a professional army and a strong central authority that would mitigate local rivalries, the two men felt the first stirrings of an impulse that would someday culminate in the Constitution and the Federalist party. Like Washington, Hamilton was scandalized by the dissension and cowardice, the backstabbing and avarice, of the politicians in Philadelphia while soldiers were dying in the field.

Trying to make a movie is a tawdry, soul-crushing, stress-inducing, backstabbing, sleep-deprived, caffeine-overdosed nightmare—and that's just Tuesday.

We find that it is not the domineering, muscle-flexing, fear-inspiring, backstabbing types who gain elevated status in the eyes of their peers (apologies to Machiavelli). Instead, it is the socially intelligent individuals who advance the interests of other group members (in the service of their own self-interest) who rise in social hierarchies. Power goes to those who are socially engaged. It is the young adults and children who brim with social energy, who bring people together, who can tell a good joke or tease in ways that playfully identify inappropriate actions, or soother another in distress, who end up at the top. The literature on socially rejected children finds that bullies, who resort to aggression, throwing their weight around, and raw forms of intimidation and dominance, in point of fact, are outcasts and low in the social hierarchy.

The Dark Cloud Is the loneliness you go through because isolation is common and friends are not Is the story of 50,000 raped Bosniak women which history forgot Is the intense pressure of being crushed under a pile of mental weight Is the backstabbing ex-boyfriend who took you for granted and compelled you to question the integrity of your relationship, including the first date

The sort who’s had his fill of backstabbing pricks,” Aren replied before sliding his blade across the man’s throat. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get my wife back.

He shrugged a shoulder. “That was before I learned what a backstabbing cunt she is.

Viv’s achievement was sullied by the fact that she’d made partner by backstabbing, undercutting, and sabotaging her peers and sleeping with her superiors.

There are a lot of mantras going around these days about how “other people’s feelings about you are none of your business.” There are mantras about not owning the feelings of others, or about not having to apologize. I get it. As a lifelong codependent I can see where I have spent way too many hours worrying about what others think or if someone is upset with me. I don’t think we need to concern ourselves with the opinions or feelings of every person we know. We don’t need to morph ourselves into being liked by everyone. However, I do want my kids to be concerned with how they are making the people in their inner circle feel. I don’t want them to have an entitled self-esteem that is unable to consider feedback. If their younger sibling feels they are a bully, I want them to be concerned with that. If their reputation among their close friends is for being a backstabbing mean girl, I want them to be concerned with that. We should all be mindful of how the trusted people in our inner circle experience us, because sometimes we need that mirror to see ourselves clearly.

(There’s more detail about this in Al Kooper’s great book, Backstage Passes and Backstabbing Bastards.)

I think as I write this of how many billionaires are venerated, and how most of them stand up very poorly to closer scrutiny. So many billionaires use sociopathic tactics to accrue their fortunes. Examples of this are hostile takeovers, exploitive labor policies, health destroying work conditions, devastating environmental practices and various other forms of cheating, lying and back-stabbing.

You were my practice guy. Asshole, I thought as I put my face in my hands. I wasn’t Elizabeth Bennet. I was Wickham, the backstabbing, two-timing liar who hurt and embarrassed Lizzie.

In mid-1986, Letterman got an unexpected call from Dave Tebet, the Carson Productions executive who worked with “Late Night.” Tebet said that he and Henry Bushkin, Johnny Carson’s extremely powerful attorney, business partner, and author of his 2013 tell-all, wanted to meet with Letterman—by himself, totally confidentially. Letterman was stunned when he heard what they had come to propose: They were offering him the “Tonight ” show; they wanted him to take Johnny Carson’s job. Bushkin, in his role as head of Carson Productions, said that the company intended to maintain ownership of the “Tonight ” show after Johnny stepped down, and now was the time to line up Letterman to slip into Johnny’s chair. The details were vague, and to Letterman they sounded deliberately so. He said he was flattered, he listened politely, but his radar was signaling a warning. Neither man told Letterman how or when this ascension would be accomplished, a problem that started sounding even worse when Bushkin advised Letterman that no one at NBC or anywhere else knew of the plan yet—not even Carson. Letterman, already nervous, now started to feel as if he were getting close to a fire he didn’t want to be in the same campground with. They asked Letterman not to tell anyone, not even his management. They would get back to him. The more Letterman thought about it, the more it sounded like a palace coup. His immediate instinct was to stay out of this, because there was going to be warfare of some sort. He feared Carson would interpret this maneuver as plotting and he guessed what might happen next: Johnny’s best friend Bushkin wouldn’t take the fall. Nor would his old crony, Tebet. It would be the punk who got blamed for engineering this. Letterman broke his promise and called Peter Lassally, Carson’s producer. Lassally was shocked by what he heard. He suspected that Bushkin was involved in all sorts of machinations that never benefited Carson. He thought about telling Johnny, but other attempts to alert the star to questionable activities by Bushkin had been harshly rebuffed. Lassally decided to see what developed and advised Dave to keep Bushkin and Tebet at a distance. Letterman had a couple of more phone calls from Bushkin and Tebet about the deal; they discussed it with Ron Ellberger, the Indianapolis attorney that Letterman still employed. Tebet blamed the lawyer for muddying up the deal, and eventually said that Carson knew of the plan and had approved of the idea of lining up Letterman for the future. But Tebet was lying; Carson had never heard a word about it, and when he did—long after the approach had taken place and Bushkin and Tebet were both long gone—Carson exploded with rage at the thought that this plotting had gone on behind his back. He knew exactly what he would have done if he had learned of it at the time: He would have fired Bushkin and Tebet before another day elapsed. Letterman had guessed right in steering clear of the coup. When he learned that Carson hadn’t known what was going on, Letterman was deeply thankful for his cautious instincts. When the offer from Bushkin melted away, Letterman tried not to give it any second thoughts. Only for the briefest time did he think that he might have walked away from an offer to host the “Tonight” show. The next time, it would not be nearly so easy to take.

If you know that you are lying when you talk about me to people. You tell lies that will make me look like a bad person. Just know that I am a better person than. You are the bad person you are trying to make me to look like.

There’s nothing more disgusting than lying, backstabbing pieces of shit.

A guy who lives in a community of people that help one another, that are there for each other, unlike the community I was trying to make myself part of where they were all competitive, backstabbing, and opportunistic – itching for the next bit of gossip to spread and only looking for their next dopamine rush and nothing of any true substance whatsoever.

There are many backstabbing friends who in your hard time will ignore you, without to ask something from them. You just are filled with sadness and they don't confide in you anymore. The downside of your hard time is being considered rude, negative, boorish and insistent.

(H)ope was like a backstabbing friend. You could trust it sometimes, and then it would turn and drive its blade deep.

Before her body is found floating in her Jacuzzi, publicist to the stars Lindsey Alexander had few friends, but plenty of lovers. To her ex-friend Claudia, she was a ruthless, backstabbing manipulator. But even Claudia is shocked by Lindsey’s startling final note: It was fun while it lasted.

I AM GRATEFUL FOR ALL OF THE BACKSTABBING BECAUSE IT MADE ME A STRAIGHT-SHOOTER!

Bannon and the Breitbart editors had the same reaction and immediately turned on Megyn Kelly, with a fusillade of negative articles. She became the newest Breitbart narrative: the back-stabbing, self-promoting betrayer-of-the-cause. And Breitbart became the locus of pro-Trump, anti-Fox conservative anger. Between Thursday night, when the debate took place, and Sunday evening, Breitbart published twenty-five stories on Kelly, and the site’s editor in chief, Alex Marlow, went on CNN to accuse Fox News of “trying to take out Donald Trump” and staging “a gotcha debate.” The intensity of Republican anger stunned Fox News executives. The debate had drawn a record 24 million viewers. Now many of them were apoplectic at the network’s top talent. “In the beginning, virtually 100 percent of the emails were against Megyn Kelly,” a Fox source told New York’s Gabriel Sherman. “Roger was not happy. Most of the Fox viewers were taking Trump’s side.” Word spread through the building that Kelly was furious and had personally complained to Ailes. By Sunday, the attacks against her showed no sign of letting up, as other conservative opinion makers, such as radio host Mark Levin, agreed that her questions to Trump had been “unfair.” In a panic, Ailes called Bannon and begged him to call off the attacks. “Steve, this isn’t fair, and it’s killing us,” Ailes said. “You have to stop it.” “Fuck that, that was outrageous what she did!” Bannon retorted. “She pulled every trick out of the leftist playbook.” “You’ve gotta knock this crap off, Steve.” “Not until she backs off Trump—she’s still going after him on her show.” “She’s the star of this network! Cut it out!” The call ended without resolution. Bannon and Ailes would not speak again for almost a year.

You're from Great Britain, so you have a bit of a different communication style. I grew up in a small town on the border of Queens, we have a bit of a different communication style. One of the things I cant stand about this town is backstanding. Where I grew up, we used to be FRONTSTABBERS - we ued to tell each other directly. I live in Washington, do you live in Washington? (NO.) Okay, so you're lucky, because here, people say one thing to your face and another behind your back, so I don't know when this bill is going to be passed.' LOVE THE GUY!!! one one one! (Krysia)

You're from Great Britain, so you have a bit of a different communication style. I grew up in a small town on the border of Queens, we have a bit of a different communication style. One of the things I can't stand about this town is backstabbing. Where I grew up, we used to be FRONTSTABBERS - we ued to tell each other directly. I live in Washington, do you live in Washington? (The BBC journalist: NO.) Okay, so you're lucky, because here, people say one thing to your face and another behind your back, so I don't know when this bill is going to be passed.' LOVE THE GUY!!! one one one! (Krysia)

The results of the UP elections make me proud of my countrymen. It is a clear verdict against hereditary prime ministership, and has spared us a humiliation hundred times more excruciating than the one we suffered in 1962 at the hands of Rahul’s great grandfather. It is unfortunate that the young Rahul Gandhi became a victim of a grand hallucination of dynastic rule and a pawn in la famiglia’s grand design—abetted by an army of self-serving, deceitful, back-stabbing sycophants—to secure what they consider is their Indian inheritance. I hope Rahul has learnt that India is not a monarchic or hereditary democracy and does not recognise birthright to prime ministership merely because s/he is descended from the Nehru-Gandhi family.

(...) I realised they were shooting real bullets into the back of people

They were family. Twisted, bitter, dangerous, slippery, backstabbing, but family all the same.

But Moby wasn’t the sort of person who got things done, although this was true for most people around Imran. He was surrounded by incompetent people who mainly liked complaining about each other. They were all so busy backstabbing that nothing ever got done. Imran quite enjoyed these nonstop emotionally draining conversations, and much of the day was spent texting back and forth over such petty turf issues.

But even democracies like ours are rife with corruption. The founding fathers had the right idea. They never envisioned professional politicians. They wanted citizen legislators, leaving their farms for a few years to serve their fellow man. A civic responsibility like jury duty. But under our current system, you almost have to be a megalomaniac to have interest in entering the sewer that is politics. And success in this realm requires that backstabbing, shamelessness, lying, and manipulation become an art form.

Edward Banfield, a political scientist, studied an impoverished town in Italy in the 1950s and concluded that it was poor because everybody in it schemed and backstabbed and refused to help each other, unless they got something in return. His 1958 book, “The Moral Basis of a Backward Society’’ concluded that trustworthiness — the ability to trust and be trusted — is a key ingredient for a prosperous community. To Banfield, poor people were poor because of their culture.

Follow the pattern of fakeness. When they are done believing and making up stories about you, they start backstabbing you, then it becomes lying apologetically in your face.

The founding fathers had the right idea. They never envisioned professional politicians. They wanted citizen legislators, leaving their farms for a few years to serve their fellow man. A civic responsibility like jury duty. But under our current system, you almost have to be a megalomaniac to have interest in entering the sewer that is politics. And success in this realm requires that backstabbing, shamelessness, lying, and manipulation become an art form.

I did not get to where I am backstabbing people. If you want what I have, you must earn it like I did.

SCANDALS AND MISMANAGEMENT If Secretary Clinton’s political career had ended with her defeat for the Democratic presidential nomination in 2008, her skills as a manager would have been judged by her disorganized and drama-filled campaign for the presidency and her disastrous Health Care Task Force as First Lady. President Obama, who defeated her calamitously run campaign, should have been wary of nominating Clinton to a post that was responsible for tens of thousands of federal employees throughout the world. While her tenure in Foggy Bottom didn’t have the highly publicized backstabbing element that tarnished her presidential campaign, Secretary Clinton’s deficiencies as a manager were no less evident. There was one department within State that Secretary Clinton oversaw with great care: the Global Partnerships Initiative (GPI), which was run by long-time Clinton family aide Kris Balderston. Balderston was known in political circles for creating a “hit list” that ranked members of Congress based on loyalty to the Clintons during the 2008 presidential primaries.[434] Balderston was brought to Foggy Bottom to “keep the Clinton political network humming at State.”[435] He focused his efforts on connecting CEOs and business interests—all potential Clinton 2016 donors—to State Department public/private partnerships. Balderston worked alongside Clinton’s long-time aide Huma Abedin, who was given a “special government employee” waiver, allowing her to work both as Secretary Clinton’s deputy chief of staff, and for other private sector clients. With the arrangement, Abedin would serve as a consultant to the top Clinton allied firm, Teneo, in a role in which, as the New York Times reported, “the lines were blurred between Ms. Abedin’s work in the high echelons of one of the government’s most sensitive executive departments and her role as a Clinton family insider.”[436] Secretary Clinton and her allies have placed great emphasis on the secretary of state’s historic role in promoting American business interests overseas, dubbing the effort “economic statecraft.”[437] The efforts of the GPI, Abedin, and Balderston ensured that Secretary Clinton’s “economic statecraft” agenda would be rife with the potential for conflicts of interest reminiscent of the favor-trading scandals that emanated from her husband’s White House. While the political office and donor maintenance program was managed with extreme meticulousness, Secretary Clinton ignored her role as manager of the rest of the sprawling government agency.[438] When it came to these more mundane tasks, Secretary Clinton was not on top of what was really going on in the department she ran. While Secretary Clinton was preoccupied with being filmed and photographed all around the world, the State Department was plagued by chronic management problems and scandals, from visa programs to security contractors. And when Secretary Clinton did weigh in on management issues, it was almost always after a raft of bad press forced her to, and not from any proactive steps she took. In fact, she and her department’s first reaction in certain instances was to silence critics or intimidate whistleblowers, rather than get to the bottom of what was actually going on. The events that unfolded in Benghazi were the worst example of Secretary Clinton neglecting her managerial responsibilities. This pattern of behavior, which led to the tragedy, was characteristic of her management style throughout her four years at Foggy Bottom. “Economic Statecraft” A big part of Secretary Clinton’s record-breaking travel—112 countries visited—was her work as a salesperson for select U.S. business interests.[439] Today, her supporters would have us believe her “economic statecraft” agenda was a major accomplishment.[440] Yet, as always seems to be the case with the Clintons, there was one family that benefited more than any other from all this economic statecraft—the Clinton family.

He loathed the cruelty and brutality of its leaders, who had “gained power more by bribery, backstabbing, toadyism, and favoritism than by knowledge and competence.

This is why niggas ended up with hoes and backstabbing thots, ‘cause when we get something good we fuck it up.

too often i was afraid to test the limits of kindness without inviting betrayal or backstab

Most people are responsible for their downfall or it is people close to them.

That was two years ago. It took a while for Joe to get over her and even now I’m not sure he completely has, which is why he has ignored Judith’s screams to be put out of her misery. He is going to drive it into the ground, his way of getting back at his back-stabbing ex.

Man has lost the basic skill of the ape, the ability to scratch its back. Which gave it extraordinary independence, and the liberty to associate for reasons other than the need for mutual back-scratching. Trampling down the leaves like snow in the wild light of the dead citadel, whose prince in days gone by rebelled against his king, for which reason the walls were pulled down.

Yesterday I learned that hours are nothing but bodies We kill upon confronting, Or perhaps they are the ones That backstab us as soon as they are behind...

Yesterday I learned that hours are nothing but bodies We kill upon confronting, Or perhaps they are the ones That backstab us as soon as they are behind.

Relying only on yourself is a good way to get got. Next time, take a member of the royal guard. Take one of us. Take a cloud of sprites or a drunken spriggan. Just take someone.' 'Watching my back is the perfect opportunity to stick a knife in it,' I remind him.

I'm sitting in my home office wearing a bathrobe. The same way I'm not going to start wearing ties, I'm also not going to buy into the fake politeness, the lying, the office politics and backstabbing, the passive aggressiveness, and the buzzwords.

Magicians are devious creatures. Could be a million reasons why one would backstab another.

I cut right to the chase. “Someone is backstabbing the people who saved your life, and I won’t have it.” Marcone raised his eyebrows. “Please explain.” I told him about Thorned Namshiel and the coin. “I don’t have it,” Marcone said. “Do any of your people?” I asked. He frowned at that question. Then he leaned back in his chair and put his elbows on the arms of it, resting the fingertips of his hands together. “Where is Gard?” I asked. “Reporting to her home office,” he murmured. “I will make inquiries.” I wondered if Marcone was lying to me. It wasn’t a habit of his, but that only meant that when he did tell a lie, it was all the more effective. I wondered if he was telling the truth. If so, then maybe Monoc Securities had just acquired their own Fallen angel and expert in magic and magical theory.

The Bachelorette proves that men are as petty and vapid and ridiculous as women are made to seem. They’re just better at hiding it, because they get to be Real Men and sulk and brood and bottle everything up. These dudes are backstabbing drama queens who are constantly cutting one another down, throwing shade all over the place, and casting more side-eyes than a Siamese cat, all for a girl who, I must remind you, could probably not do long division by hand.

Darrow expects retaliation, but we can’t go after him without risking Sinner discovering the truth that his nephew is a lame-ass double-crossing back-stabbing enemy-loving asshole.

No one is perfect. This is the naked truth we all have to accept. And who the hell has said there are perfect ones, by the way? We won’t ever be perfect. There are Machiavellian aspects (not that worse kind of malicious behavior) in us. One of these aspects is acting obsequiously towards others in order to gain advantage and then backstabbing them in return. I call them fawning parasites. They are the people who are fond of picking unnecessary fights and they don’t care about their actions. What’s important to them is only their side just to justify their means. Oh, I’ve just realized that the world is full of competition and others want to be just perfect jerks.

No one is perfect. This is the naked truth we all have to accept. And who the hell has said there are perfect ones, by the way? We won’t ever be perfect. We are all Machiavellians. It just depends on how we use its tactics to ensure we’re not bad Machiavellians. Because there are those bad ones who are acting obsequiously towards others in order to gain advantage and then backstabbing them in return. I call them fawning parasites. They are the people who are fond of picking unnecessary fights and they don’t care about their actions. What’s important to them is only their side just to justify their means.

Be in the company of those who build you up & have good intent for you; not the ones who pretend they care but will gossip & backstab you.

Most times, you will realize that value is relative. Just as the rain is convenient to a farmer and convenient to a hunter, so is life. Some will like you; others will loathe you. Some will applaud you; others will criticize you. Some will stand with you, others will backstab you. Learn to accept these realities, and you will not be fazed by unfavourable conditions.

We hadn’t hired any new talent or raised anyone’s salaries, but day-by-day candor was increasing talent density in the office. I saw that openly voicing opinions and feedback, instead of whispering behind one another’s backs, reduced the backstabbing and politics and allowed us to be faster. The more people heard what they could do better, the better everyone got at their jobs, the better we performed as a company.

If you keep the creek dry then you won’t have to worry about ‘muddying the waters.

No one is perfect. This is the naked truth we all have to accept. And who the hell has said there are perfect ones, by the way? We won’t ever be perfect. There are Machiavellian aspects (not that worse kind of malicious behavior) in us. One of these aspects is acting obsequiously towards others in order to gain advantage and then backstabbing them in return. I call them fawning parasites. They are the people who are fond of picking unnecessary fights and they don’t care about their actions. What’s important to them is only their side just to justify their means. Oh, I’ve just realized that the world is full of competition and others want to be just perfect jerks.

No one is perfect. This is the naked truth we all have to accept. And who the hell has said there are perfect ones, by the way? We won’t ever be perfect. There are Machiavellian aspects (not that worse kind of malicious behavior) in us. One of these aspects is acting obsequiously towards others in order to gain advantage and then backstabbing them in return. I call it a fawning parasite. The are people who are fond of picking unnecessary fights and they don’t care about their actions, what’s important to them is only their side- TO JUSTIFIY THEIR MEANS. Oh, I just realized that the world is full of competition and others want to be just perfect jerks.

No one is perfect. This is the naked truth we all have to accept. And who the hell has said there are perfect ones, by the way? We won’t ever be perfect. There are Machiavellian aspects (not that worse kind of malicious behavior) in us. One of these aspects is acting obsequiously towards others in order to gain advantage and then backstabbing them in return. I call it a fawning parasite. The are people who are fond of picking unnecessary fights and they don’t care about their actions, what’s important to them is only their side- TO JUSTIFY THEIR MEANS. Oh, I just realized that the world is full of competition and others want to be just perfect jerks.

If I looked up drama queen in the dictionary, I’d find Jules Ambrose’s face next to it, but I loved her anyway. At least she was into fun drama and not the nasty, backstabbing kind.

Reverse back-stabbing is the art of praising people behind their backs.

What, huh?” growled Nikos. “Prove to me that you’re not a murderer, even though you have my friend’s blood on your hands? That you’re not a backstabbing traitor who stuck a knife in my back? That I’m supposed to forget all that because you heroically go to the Shard with the one condemned to die? With the one who is only in this situation because of you? Am I supposed to say thank you now?” Matteo had grown paler and paler with each word and swallowed hard. “I... I think I’d better take you back to your room.

which remains a very collegial business. I have heard that other government departments are notorious for backstabbing and careerism among officers scrambling over each other’s backs like Maryland blue crabs in a basket.

I didn’t realize there was an appropriate span of time to return a call from a backstabbing bitch.

Once an enemy, never will be a true friend. In peace, love but never befriend an enemy. Be wise, readily will an enemy backstab at the slightest opportunity.

And once I free Red, I’m gonna backstab you in the face!” “Backstab me in the face? Wait, wouldn’t that be called a facestab, then?

Stand before her to face her problems and protect her from them but don't let her back-stab you.

WHY SO SWEET? Tongues surrounded by the farm of sugarcane, Hold on, their prickling stuff stings like a snake. Showers of appreciation swiftly slide through words, But droplets of back-stabbing makes your innocence appear as a blur. Faces coated with the colors of togetherness, But their hearts turning black with the particles of deceitfulness.

the evil Swarm, and the backstabbing Dolmasi, and the enigmatic Skiohra, and even the other two known alien races that humanity had never met, the Findiri and Quiassi, and Danny would make up names for the alien ships and descriptions of what the aliens looked like and how their ships— Dammit, stop daydreaming,

I gasp. She just stomped on girl code. You don’t backstab someone trying to help you. I hope she gets crabs.

The names of your informers, what backstabbing campaigns you’re embarking on, where you store your guns, your drugs, your money, the location of your hideout, the interchangeable lists of your friends and enemies, your contacts, the fences, your escape plans—all things you need to keep to yourself, and you will reveal every one if you are in love. Love is the Ultimate Informer because of the conviction it inspires that your love is eternal and immutable—you can no more imagine the end of your love than you can imagine the end of your own head. And because love is nothing without intimacy, and intimacy is nothing without sharing, and sharing is nothing without honesty, you must inevitably spill the beans, every last bean, because dishonesty in intimacy is unworkable and will slowly poison your precious love. When it ends—and it will end (even the most risk-embracing gambler wouldn’t touch those odds)—he or she, the love object, has your secrets. And can use them. And if the relationship ends acrimoniously, he or she will use them, viciously and maliciously—will use them against you. Furthermore, it is highly probable that the secrets you reveal when your soul has all its clothes off will be the cause of the end of love. Your intimate revelations will be the flame that lights the fuse that ignites the dynamite that blows your love to kingdom come. No, you say. She understands my violent ways. She understands that the end justifies the means. Think about this. Being in love is a process of idealization. Now ask yourself, how long can a woman be expected to idealize a man who held his foot on the head of a drowning man? Not too long, believe me. And cold nights in front of the fire, when you get up and slice off another piece of cheese, you don’t think she’s dwelling on that moment of unflinching honesty when you revealed sawing off the feet of your enemy? Well, she is. If a man could be counted on to dispose of his partner the moment the relationship is over, this chapter wouldn’t be necessary. But he can’t be counted on for that. Hope of reconciliation keeps many an ex alive who should be at the bottom of a deep gorge. So, lawbreakers, whoever you are, you need to keep your secrets for your survival, to keep your enemies at bay and your body out of the justice system. Sadly—and this is the lonely responsibility we all have to accept—the only way to do this is to stay single. If you need sexual relief, go to a hooker. If you need an intimate embrace, go to your mother. If you need a bed warmer during cold winter months, get a dog that is not a Chihuahua or a Pekingese. But know this: to give up your secrets is to give up your security, your freedom, your life. The truth will kill your love, then it will kill you. It’s rotten, I know. But so is the sound of the judge’s gavel pounding a mahogany desk.

But even democracies like ours are rife with corruption. The founding fathers had the right idea. They never envisioned professional politicians. They wanted citizen legislators, leaving their farms for a few years to serve their fellow man. A civic responsibility like jury duty. But under our current system, you almost have to be a megalomaniac to have interest in entering the sewer that is politics. And success in this realm requires that backstabbing, shamelessness, lying, and manipulation become an art form.” He

Another frigging sandbox.” “What does a sandbox have to do with scheming and backstabbing deities?” asked the surprised Viracocha. “It’s a reference to an ongoing war back in the First World where one’s friend today ends up being an enemy tomorrow. A war with a lot of sides and no clear delineation between factions. Temporary allies, permanent interests.

In a world that was constantly filled with fake people and their backstabbing climb to the top, finding something that was real and genuine was like finding a diamond in a slag heap.

Sex, backstabbing, and the pursuit of scientific and artistic truth. Gotta love the academics.

The story of the incarnation is the story of God’s power and authority over all things. This power is not a blustering tyranny or a loud-mouthed despotism. This power is manifested in what looks like weakness and impossibility. And this is the blueprint of our salvation. Jesus said, “Behold, I make all things new.” All things includes divorce, rape, false accusations, genocide, suffering, disease, malnutrition, misunderstanding, honest mistakes, utter failure, vindictive backstabbing, adultery, lies, corruption, manipulation, all injustice, and everything in between. In other words, the brokenness extends to all things in this world, and Jesus is not surprised or inhibited by any of it. Jesus is undaunted. There is no shadow in any corner of the universe that the Light of Easter can be kept out of.

If I run, I might fall. If I TRUST someone, I might get backstabbed. If I LOVE someone, I might get hurt. If I share my FEEDBACK, they might ridicule me or make fun of me. If I eat outside food, I might fall sick. If I disagree with someone, they might try to harm my child. If I take a DIFFERENT DIRECTION in my life (without any precedent), I might fail. If I DRIVE on road, I might meet with an accident. If I get into a relationship, they might try to change me. If I don’t follow social norms, they might isolate me. Oh God, with so many fears...one might just stop living. It is as good as being dead. FACE YOUR FEARS, don’t run away from them. As we know Murphy’s law, “IF SOMETHING HAS TO GO WRONG, IT WILL”. Till then, enjoy every day of your life and celebrate every moment of your life. BE FEARLESS. Do BUNGEE JUMP, SKYDIVE, climb mountains, do sea surfing, anything and everything your heart wants to do.

Well, Hell has done froze slap over. Sawyer Vincent is walking into a bar.” My mama’s voice carried loud and clear over the empty room. I put the beer down that I’d been nursing since walking in there five minutes before. Ashton was nowhere to be found, so I had come here hoping she was looking for me, too. “I’m not here for a social visit, Aunt Honey. I came to see my backstabbing, lying SOB of a cousin.” Mama let out a low whistle and shook her head. “I shoulda known better than to believe you knew all about Beau and Ashton galavanting around town together.” “Shut up, Mom,” I said without glancing her way. I kept my eyes on Sawyer. The hatred in his eyes wasn’t something I’d ever imagined seeing directed my way. Even though I knew I deserved it, I still had a hard time swallowing it. His hair was tucked behind his ears and his teeth were so tightly clenched I could see his jaw tick. “Is she here?” Sawyer asked, scanning the empty bar. He’d thought she would come to me too. “No.” “Where is she?” “I don’t know.” Sawyer stalked toward me. God, I didn’t want to hit him. I just wanted Ash. The real Ash. The one he didn’t know. The one he’d never be able to love.

calling her the “No. 1 leaker” wasn’t fair, either, because all leaks are not created equal. Sure, the staff-on-staff backstabbing was a distraction and contributed to the toxic work environment, but the real-world damage those leaks inflicted paled in comparison to the national security leaks. And Kellyanne didn’t have anything to do with those.

(Scout) I kill plenty of spies, a dime a dozen back-stabbing scumbags, like you, no offence. (Spy) If you managed to kill them I assure you they were not like me.

We pick at and attack each other, usually through gossip or backstabbing. Many who claim to follow Jesus have, in reality, turned away from Him. There are false teachers in churches, even churches that are trying to preach the truth. We tolerate and accept sin rather than taking a loving stand against it. Most notably, the love that Jesus said would characterize His followers is absent in many Christians and churches.

never ever backstab someone or talk smack about someone. it's never ok to judge ppl and nobody likes being talk behind their back and it's never ok to backstab someone. and it's not their choice to backstab yell or shout at someone. it's not their choices or their decisions. they have their own choices and decisions. and it's never ok to misbehave or act like a brat. act your age and pretend that savage queens are a made up thing.

Maybe I’m naive, but I thought college would be different. I thought all the gossiping and backstabbing and bullshit ceased to exist once you left high school, but I guess mean girls can be found at any level of the education system. It’s like visiting a farm—if you go there not expecting to see piles of cow shit everywhere, then you’re in for a rude awakening. And there’s a good SAT question for you. SCHOOL is to MEAN GIRLS as FARMS are to _______.

Theorists backstabbing each other over their pet ideas, and sounding just as scientific as they could, when it isn’t really scientific at all! You can’t test these theories by designing an experiment and looking for reproducibility, and you can’t isolate your factors or vary them, or use controls—it’s just observation and untestable hypothesis, over and over! And yet they acted like such solid scientists, math models and all, like chemists or something. It’s just scientism.

Those who wag their tails are not dogs but those who bark and bite are mad dogs.

In theory, six factions shared rule of the hexarchate. Three high factions: Rahal, which governed the high calendar and set the law; Andan, with their financiers, diplomats, and artisans; and Shuos, which specialized either in information operations or backstabbing, depending on whom you asked. Three low factions: Kel, known best for their military; Vidona, which handled education and the ceremonial torture that was fundamental to the calendar’s remembrances; and Nirai, which consisted of the technicians and researchers. ‘High’ and ‘low’ were old designations, more a matter of tradition than actual power, which fluctuated according to resources, infighting, and the interplay between the current hexarchs.

When you destroy someone's life with lies and false accusations, God's justice is set in motion. Blaming and creating false stories will ultimately seal your fate. The weight of your deceit will crush you, as the truth comes to light. Every false promise and hope you dangled will turn to dust. Betrayal and backstabbing may seem to work temporarily, but God's judgment will prevail. Your actions will come back sevenfold, bringing suffering and regret. You can't escape the consequences of your evil deeds, for 'whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap' (Galatians 6:7-8).