Winners Never Cheat Quotes

I can't - Kestrel, you must understand that I would never claim you. Calling you a prize - my prize - it was only words. But it worked. Cheat won't harm you, I swear that he won't, but you must...hide yourself a little. Help a little. Just tell us how much time we have before the battle. Give him a reason to decide you're not better off dead. Swallow your pride." "Maybe it's not as easy for me as it is for you." He wheeled on her. "It's not easy for me," "You know that it's not. What do you think I have had to swallow these past ten years? What do you think I have had to do to survive?" "Truly," she said, "I haven't the faintest interest. You may tell your sad story to someone else." He flinched as if slapped. His voice came low: "You can make people feel so small.

A crisis creates the opportunity to dip deep into the reservoirs of our very being, to rise to levels of confidence, strength, and resolve that otherwise we didn't think we possessed.

Wealth isn't always measured in dollar signs. We each have time, talent and creativity, all of which can be powerful forces for positive change. Share your blessings in whatever form they come and to whatever level you have been blessed.

Engaging in activities devoid of difficulty, lounging in risk-free zones, is life without great meaning.

Winners never cheat because cheaters never win and I'd rather be a loser than a quitter who never had a chance to be either

Wealth isn't always measured in dollar signs. We each have time, talent and creativity, all of which can be powerful forces for positive change

There are times when it is prudent to turn the other cheek, especially when it comes to spouses, family members, and friends. Courtesy and love are contagious and are far more effective over the long-haul than trying to ruin the reputation and well-being of another. (Chapter 7)

Once dishonesty is introduced, distrust becomes the hallmark of future dealings or associations.

There is a fun fact that suggests America has 40 lawyers for every engineer, whereas China, emerging as one of the world’s most dynamic nations, has 40 engineers for every lawyer. I am not sure exactly what that says, but it can’t be a plus for the United States. It may only be coincidence that the explosion in ethical and legal lapses in the business world parallels proportionately the increase in lawyers.

There is no book written, no guideline yet crafted, and no class lecture devised that explains how to activate courage. Courage comes from deep within one’s being. Courage is not the understanding of what is right or wrong. Rather, it is the strength to choose the right course.

Afternoon tipped toward evening. It was almost one full day since the Firstwinter ball, and more since Kestrel had slept. She stayed awake, staring at the outermost door to her rooms. Arin opened it. Then he stepped back, inhaling as if she had frightened him. His hand tightened on the doorjamb, and he stared. Yet he said nothing of the fact that she still wore her black dueling uniform. He didn’t mention the jagged ends of hair brushing her shoulders. “You need to come with me,” he said. “To see Jess?” His mouth thinned. “No.” “You said you would take me. Apparently there is no such thing as Herrani honor.” “I will as soon as I can. Right now, I can’t.” “When?” “Kestrel, Cheat is here. He wants to see you.” Her hands curled shut. Arin said, “I can’t say no.” “Because you’re a coward.” “Because if I do, things will go worse for you.” Kestrel lifted her chin. “I will come,” she said, “if you never again pretend that anything you do is on my behalf.” Arin didn’t comment on the obvious: that she had no choice in the matter. He simply nodded. “Be careful,” he said.

She had sworn to herself not to speak to Arin, but then he said, “You’re coming with me to the harbor.” This surprised her into saying, “To do what? Why not lock me up in the barracks? It would be a perfect prison for your prize.” He continued to walk her down the halls of her home. “Unless Cheat changes his mind about you.” Kestrel imagined the auctioneer unlocking her cell door. “I suppose I’m no good to you dead.” “I would never let that happen.” “What a touching concern for Valorian life. As if you hadn’t let your leader kill that woman. As if you’re not responsible for the death of my friends.” They stopped before the door to Kestrel’s suite. Arin faced her. “I will let every single Valorian in this city die if it means that you don’t.” “Like Jess?” Her eyes swam with sudden, unshed tears. “Ronan?” Arin looked away. The skin above his eye was beginning to blacken from where she had kicked him. “I spent ten years as a slave. I couldn’t be one anymore. What did you imagine, tonight, in the carriage? That it would be fine for me to always be afraid to touch you?” “That has nothing to do with anything. I am not a fool. You sold yourself to me with the intention of betrayal.” “But I didn’t know you. I didn’t know how you--” “You’re right. You don’t know me. You’re a stranger.” He flattened a palm against the door. “What about the Valorian children?” she demanded. “What have you done with them? Have they been poisoned, too?” “No. Kestrel, no, of course not. They will be cared for. In comfort. By their nurses. This was always part of the plan. Do you think we’re monsters?” “I think you are.

He passed the open library door, then stopped, returned. He pushed the door wider to see Kestrel more fully. A fire burned in the grate. The room was warm, and Kestrel was browsing the shelves as if this were her home, which Arin wanted it to be. Her back to him, she slid a book from its row, a finger on top of its spine. She seemed to sense his presence. She slid the book back and turned. The graze on her cheek had scabbed over. Her blackened eye had sealed shut. The other eye studied him, almond-shaped, amber, perfect. The sight of her rattled Arin even more than he had expected. “Don’t tell people why you killed Cheat,” she said. “It won’t win you any favors.” “I don’t care what they think of me. They need to know what happened.” “It’s not your story to tell.” A charred log shifted on the fire. Its crackle and sift was loud. “You’re right,” Arin said slowly, “but I can’t lie about this.” “Then say nothing.” “I’ll be questioned. I’ll be held accountable by our new leader, though I’m not sure who will take Cheat’s place--” “You. Obviously.” He shook his head. Kestrel lifted one shoulder in a shrug. She turned back to the books. “Kestrel, I didn’t come in here to talk politics.” Her hand trembled slightly, then swept along the titles to hide it. Arin didn’t know how much last night had changed things between them, or in what way. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Cheat should never have been a threat to you. You shouldn’t even be in this house. You’re in this position because I put you there. Here. Forgive me, please.” Her fingers paused: thin, strong, and still. Arin dared to reach for her hand, and Kestrel did not pull away.

He ought to be up there, guarding the pass, or at least striving in some way to keep his country. His. The thought never failed to thrill him. It was worth death. Worth almost anything to become again the person he had been before the Herran War. Yet here he was, gambling the frail odds of success. Looking for a plant. He imagined Cheat’s reaction if he could see him now, scouring the ground for a wrinkle of faded green. There would be mockery, which Arin could shrug off, and rage, which Arin could withstand--even understand. But he couldn’t bear what he saw in his mind. Cheat’s eyes cutting to Kestrel. Targeting her, stoking his hatred with one more reason. And the more Arin tried to shield her, the more Cheat’s dislike grew. Arin’s hands clenched in the cold. He blew on them, tucked his fingers under his arms, and began to walk. He should let her go. Let her slip into the countryside, to the isolated farmlands that had no idea of the revolution. If so, what then? Kestrel would alert her father. She’d find a way. Then the full force of the empire’s military would fall on the peninsula, when Arin doubted that the Herrani could deal even with the battalion that would come through the pass in less than two days. If he let Kestrel go, it was the same as murdering his people. Arin nudged a rock with his boot and wanted to kick it. He didn’t. He walked. Thoughts chipped at his sanity, proposing solutions only to reveal problems, taunting him with the certainty that he would lose everything he sought to keep. Until he found it. Arin found the herb threading up through a patch of dirt. It was a pitiful amount, and withered, but he tore it from the ground with a fierce hope.

Don’t provoke Cheat,” Arin said as they stepped out of the carriage and onto the dusky path that led to the governor’s palace, which looked eerie to Kestrel because its impressive façade was the same as the night before, but the lights burning in the windows were now few. “Kestrel, do you hear me? You can’t toy with him.” “He started it.” “That’s not the point.” Gravel crunched under Arin’s heavy boots as he stalked up the path. “Don’t you understand that he wants you dead? He’d leap at the chance,” Arin said, hands in pockets, head down, almost talking to himself. He strode ahead, his long legs quicker than hers. “I can’t--Kestrel, you must understand that I would never claim you. Calling you a prize--my prize--it was only words. But it worked. Cheat won’t harm you, I swear that he won’t, but you must…hide yourself a little. Help a little. Just tell us how much time we have before the battle. Give him a reason to decide you’re not better off dead. Swallow your pride.” “Maybe that’s not as easy for me as it is for you.” He wheeled on her. “It’s not easy for me,” he said through his teeth. “You know that it’s not. What do you think I have had to swallow, these past ten years? What do you think I have had to do to survive?” They stood before the palace door. “Truly,” she said, “I haven’t the faintest interest. You may tell your sad story to someone else.” He flinched as if slapped. His voice came low: “You can make people feel so small.” Kestrel went hot with shame--then was ashamed of her own shame. Who was he, that she should apologize? He had used her. He had lied. Nothing he said meant anything. If she was to feel shame, it should be for having been so easily fooled. He ran fingers through his cropped hair, but slowly, anger gone, replaced by something heavier. He didn’t look at her. His breath smoked the chill air. “Do what you want to me. Say anything. But it frightens me how you refuse to see the danger you risk with others. Maybe now you’ll see.

Better cut them down.” Roshar took his turn. “The wood’s undergrowth might be enough to screen us if we lie low.” Kestrel clicked her teeth; an eastern, irritated sort of sound. “You learned that from me,” the prince said, pleased. “Now tell the truth. Did you mark the cards?” Coolly, she said, “I never cheat.” “We can’t cut the trees down,” Arin said. “Concentrate,” Kestrel told the prince, sweeping up the card he’d tossed down. “To be clear, I’m letting you win. I let you win all the time.” “Obviously we can’t cut them down,” she said. “My father will notice a sudden swath of felled trees. We might as well paint a sign telling him we’re there.” “Or…” Arin said. She glanced at him. “What are you thinking?” “How much rope do we have?” “Two hundred and twelve lengths.” Roshar said, “You’ve been going over our supplies?” “Yes,” she said. “Could you rattle off the units by heart?” “Yes.” “How many sacks of grain for horses?” “Sixty-two. Play your card. You might as well. You’re going to lose regardless.” “Attempts to distract her usually don’t work,” Arin told him. “You play the winner, then,” Roshar said, “so that I may observe your technique.” Arin checked the rabbit again, pulled it off the fire. “No.” A surprised disappointment twitched, insect-like, inside Kestrel’s chest. Roshar said, “Why not?” Arin sliced meat off the bone onto a tin plate. Kestrel, who wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to hear Arin’s answer, said, “Why do you want rope?” “Let Arin surprise us,” Roshar said. “That’s how we do things. He comes up with something brilliant and I take the credit.” “Tell me,” Kestrel said. Arin set down the plate. “I won’t play you because even when I win, I lose. It’s never been just a game between us.” Roshar, who was stretched out on his side on the grass, elbow crooked, cheek pilowed on his palm, raised his brows at Kestrel. “I meant about the rope,” she muttered. Roshar’s gaze slid between her and Arin. “Yes, the rope. Why don’t we talk about that after all, shall we?

Don’t provoke Cheat,” Arin said as they stepped out of the carriage and onto the dusky path that led to the governor’s palace, which looked eerie to Kestrel because its impressive façade was the same as the night before, but the lights burning in the windows were now few. “Kestrel, do you hear me? You can’t toy with him.” “He started it.” “That’s not the point.” Gravel crunched under Arin’s heavy boots as he stalked up the path. “Don’t you understand that he wants you dead? He’d leap at the chance,” Arin said, hands in pockets, head down, almost talking to himself. He strode ahead, his long legs quicker than hers. “I can’t--Kestrel, you must understand that I would never claim you. Calling you a prize--my prize--it was only words. But it worked. Cheat won’t harm you, I swear that he won’t, but you must…hide yourself a little. Help a little. Just tell us how much time we have before the battle. Give him a reason to decide you’re not better off dead. Swallow your pride.” “Maybe that’s not as easy for me as it is for you.” He wheeled on her. “It’s not easy for me,” he said through his teeth. “You know that it’s not. What do you think I have had to swallow, these past ten years? What do you think I have had to do to survive?” They stood before the palace door. “Truly,” she said, “I haven’t the faintest interest. You may tell your sad story to someone else.” He flinched as if slapped. His voice came low: “You can make people feel so small.” Kestrel went hot with shame--then was ashamed of her own shame. Who was he, that she should apologize? He had used her. He had lied. Nothing he said meant anything. If she was to feel shame, it should be for having been so easily fooled. He ran fingers through his cropped hair, but slowly, anger gone, replaced by something heavier. He didn’t look at her. His breath smoked the chill air. “Do what you want to me. Say anything. But it frightens me how you refuse to see the danger you risk with others. Maybe now you’ll see.” He opened the door to the governor’s home. The smell struck her first. Blood and decaying flesh. It pushed at Kestrel’s gut. She fought not to gag. Bodies were piled in the reception hall. Lady Neril was lying facedown, almost in the same place where she had stood the night of the ball, greeting guests. Kestrel recognized her by the scarf in her fist, fabric bright in the guttering torchlight. There were hundreds of dead. She saw Captain Wensan, Lady Faris, Senator Nicon’s whole family, Benix… Kestrel knelt next to him. His large hand felt like cold clay. She could hear her tears drip to his clothes. They beaded on his skin. Quietly, Arin said, “He’ll be buried today, with the others.” “He should be burned. We burn our dead.” She couldn’t look at Benix anymore, but neither could she get to her feet. Arin helped her, his touch gentle. “I’ll make certain it’s done right.” Kestrel forced her legs to move, to walk past bodies heaped like rubble. She thought that she must have fallen asleep after all, and that this was an evil dream. She paused at the sight of Irex. His mouth was the stained purple of the poisoned, but he had sticky gashes in his side, and one final cut to the neck. Even poisoned, he had fought. Tears came again. Arin’s hold tightened. He pushed her past Irex. “Don’t you dare weep for him. If he weren’t dead, I would kill him myself.

Winning isn’t always measured in money. There will be times when one will lose money—sometimes a lot of it—but winning is much more than ledgers. In assessing our worth, look first to the bedrock of our lives: values, health, family, and friends. Dying is no fun, even if you leave behind a pot of gold. Family and friends are the lifeblood and legacy of our lives.

Preach the Gospel, and if you must, use words,” comes to mind.

No man is an island, No man stands alone; Each man’s joy is joy to me, Each man’s grief is my own. We need one another, So I will defend Each man as my brother, Each man as my friend.

Life to me is the greatest of all games. The danger lies in treating it as a trivial game, a game to be taken lightly, and a game in which the rules don’t matter much. The rules matter a great deal. The game has to be played fairly or it is no game at all. And even to win the game is not the chief end. The chief end is to win it honorably and splendidly.

happiness is not the absence of conflict, but the ability to cope with it.

NONE OF US IS AS SMART AS ALL OF US.

The family is the basic societal unit. As such, it is the foundation for society’s prosperity, order, happiness, and values.

The realities of this world are hard work, preparation, negotiation, determination, commitment, honesty, and charity.

The recipe for happiness is to have just enough money to pay the monthly bills you acquire, a little surplus to give you confidence, a little too much work each day, enthusiasm for your work, a substantial share of good health, a couple of real friends, and a wife and children to share life’s beauty with you.

FIND OUT HOW MUCH GOD HAS GIVEN YOU AND FROM IT TAKE WHAT YOU NEED; THE REMAINDER IS NEEDED BY OTHERS.

Nobody is completely self-made; return the favors and good fortune.

All that is required to be a philanthropist is a passion for making a difference.

I define those who have gained fame and fortune not so much by their achievements as by how they got there—the enormous odds they overcame, the dignity and courage they displayed in the process, the way they treated people ethically and fairly along the way.

Character is most determined by integrity and courage.

Lawyers have us trained to believe nothing is airtight, any agreement can be broken, and that life is one big loophole. A handshake ends up as meaningless as an Enron audit. Heaven forbid the law be the law. Today, the law is whatever the client wants it to be. Today, we can sue anybody over anything. We can ruin a reputation with a simple allegation, trumpeting the canard worldwide on the Internet in seconds.

Why is it that some bright students choose to cheat? Why do some otherwise upstanding citizens chisel on their income tax returns? Why do some physically-fit, talented athletes inject themselves with performance-enhancing drugs? How can some folks who profess to be religious look you in the eye and tell you a lie? How is it that some law-abiding people cheat on their spouses? Why do some super-wealthy corporate executives line their already bulging wallets through fraudulent methods? And, while we are figuring out life’s mysteries, why is it that some of the richest people seem to have the hardest time parting with money for those in need?

It wasn’t the rules or the potential punishment that kept people honest. It was being reminded of core values embedded from our earliest days: Don’t steal. Don’t cheat. Don’t lie. We are in dire need of constant reminders, whether from others or from ourselves, of the universal axiom: Honesty is the best policy. AN HONEST MAN SPEAKS THE TRUTH, THOUGH IT MAY GIVE OFFENSE; A VAIN MAN, IN ORDER THAT IT MAY. —WILLIAM HAZLITT KNOWING OTHERS IS WISDOM. KNOWING YOURSELF IS ENLIGHTENMENT. —LAO-TZU

Life is not a game of Solitaire; people depend on one another. When one does well, others are lifted. When one stumbles, others also are impacted.

When we were young, we unconsciously chose friends with similar values. We didn’t like dealing with individuals, for example, who were not truthful. They concerned us. Lying seemed so silly, so unnecessary. Nobody likes dishonesty. I remember associating with people who often were not the most popular in the school, but they were respected. And one of the reasons they were respected was because they had integrity.

There are no exact duplicates in nature. Each human is unique. When we seek to be like the next person, we lose autonomy. Failure often is the result of following the crowd. If the character of the person we are following lacks strength, honesty, and courage, that person’s weaknesses can become ours. Conversely, following someone who exhibits those attributes reinforces one’s own resolve and character.

I have always held in high regard individuals who informed me that certain behavior or policies were inappropriate. I respect candor. My door is always open for news—good or bad. Many leaders only want to hear the positive. It is dangerous to be employed by such people. Those who never want to hear bad news don’t want to know when they are off course.

TRAVEL IS FATAL TO PREJUDICE, BIGOTRY AND NARROW-MINDEDNESS… BROAD, WHOLESOME, CHARITABLE VIEWS OF MEN AND THINGS CANNOT BE ACQUIRED BY VEGETATING IN ONE LITTLE CORNER OF THE EARTH ALL ONE’S LIFE. —MARK TWAIN

So how does one bring about the restoration of value-based behavior in the marketplace and in the other arenas of modern life? I offer four simple suggestions, as follows: When you engage in something that affects others, first ask yourself: Is this right? Would I like to be treated this way? Take your values to work. Don’t disconnect them when you sit down at your desk. There should not be a conflict between making a profit and adhering to traditional principles of decency and fairness. Consider yourself your brothers’ and sisters’ keeper and set the example for ethical behavior. There should not be a conflict between making a profit and adhering to traditional principles of decency and fairness. Make the underpinnings of your life a string of f-words (phonetically, at least): family, faith, fortitude, fairness, fidelity, friendship, and philanthropy.

No exercise is better for the human heart than reaching down and lifting another up.