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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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?

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 who talk behind you, always left behind you!

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

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

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

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!

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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

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

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

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.

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.

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?