Quotes about cheating

A collection of quotes on the topic of cheating.

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John Lydon photo

„Ever get the feeling you've been cheated? Good night!“

—  John Lydon English singer, songwriter, and musician 1956

At the end of the last Sex Pistols concert, Winterland Theater, San Francisco, California (14 January 1978)

Banksy photo

„Become good at cheating and you never need to become good at anything else.“

—  Banksy pseudonymous England-based graffiti artist, political activist, and painter

Source: Wall and Piece (2005)

Adolf Hitler photo
Cornelius Vanderbilt photo

„Gentlemen,
You have undertaken to cheat me. I won't sue you, for law is too slow. I'll ruin you.
Yours truly,
Cornelius Vanderbilt“

—  Cornelius Vanderbilt American businessman, philanthropist, and tycoon 1794 - 1877

Said to be the entirety of a letter to Charles Morgan and C. K. Garrison, quoted in an obituary, "Commodore Vanderbilt's Life" (5 January 1877) New York Times. Stiles, in The First Tycoon (2009) doubts this. He notes that there is no earlier source, that Vanderbilt was no stranger to the courts, and that he never otherwise closed letters with "yours truly."
Disputed

Michael Jackson photo
P. C. Cast photo
Andrzej Sapkowski photo
Tom Robbins photo

„But there are folks who want to know and aren't afraid to look, and won't turn tail should they find it — and if they never do, they'll have a good time anyway, because nothing, neither the terrible truth, nor the absence of it, is going to cheat them out of one honest breath of earth's sweet gas.“

—  Tom Robbins, book Still Life with Woodpecker

Still Life with Woodpecker (1980)
Context: How can one person be more real than any other? Well some people do hide and others seek. Maybe those who are hiding — escaping encounters, avoiding suprises, protecting their property, ignoring their fantasies, restricting their feelings, sitting out the Pan pipe hootchy-kootch of experience — maybe those people, people who won't talk to rednecks, or if they're rednecks won't talk to intellectuals, people who are afraid to get their shoes muddy or their noses wet, afraid to eat what they crave, afraid to drink Mexican water, afraid to bet a long shot to win, afraid to hitchhike, jaywalk, honky-tonk, cogitate, osculate, levitate, rock it, bop it, sock it, or bark at the moon, maybe such people are simply inauthentic, and maybe the jackleg humanist who says differently is due to have his tongue fried on the hot slabs of liars hell. Some folks hide and some folks seek, and seeking when its mindless, neurotic, desperate, or pusillanimous, can be a form of hiding. But there are folks who want to know and aren't afraid to look, and won't turn tail should they find it — and if they never do, they'll have a good time anyway, because nothing, neither the terrible truth, nor the absence of it, is going to cheat them out of one honest breath of earth's sweet gas.

John Gay photo

„By outward show let's not be cheated;
An ass should like an ass be treated.“

—  John Gay English poet and playwright 1685 - 1732

XI, "The Packhorse and Carrier"
Fables (1727), Fables, Part the Second (1738)

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Michael Ende photo

„You were compelled to?' he repeated. 'You mean you weren't sufficiently powerful to resist?'
'In order to seize power,' replied the dictator, 'I had to take it from those that had it, and in order to keep it I had to employ it against those that sought to deprive me of it.'
The chef's hat gave a nod. 'An old, old story. It has been repeated a thousand times, but no one believes it. That's why it will be repeated a thousand times more.'
The dictator felt suddenly exhausted. He would gladly have sat down to rest, but the old man and the children walked on and he followed them.
'What about you?' he blurted out, when he had caught the old man up. 'What do you know of power? Do you seriously believe that anything great can be achieved on earth without it?'
'I?' said the old man. 'I cannot tell great from small.'
'I wanted power so that I could give the world justice,' bellowed the dictator, and blood began to trickle afresh from the wound in his forehead, 'but to get it I had to commit injustice, like anyone who seeks power. I wanted to end oppression, but to do so I had to imprison and execute those who opposed me - I became an oppressor despite myself. To abolish violence we must use it, to eliminate human misery we must inflict it, to render war impossible we must wage it, to save the world we must destroy it. Such is the true nature of power.'
Chest heaving, he had once more barred the old man's path with his pistol ready.'
'Yet you love it still,' the old man said softly.
'Power is the supreme virture!' The dictator's voice quavered and broke. 'But its sole shortcoming is sufficient to spoil the whole: it can never be absolute - that's what makes it so insatiable. The only true form of power is omnipotence, which can never be attained, hence my disenchantment with it. Power has cheated me.'
'And so,' said the old man, 'you have become the very person you set out to fight. It happens again and again. That is why you cannot die.'
The dictator slowly lowered his gun. 'Yes,' he said, 'you're right. What's to be done?'
'Do you know the legend of the Happy Monarch?' asked the old man.

'When the Happy Monarch came to build the huge, mysterious palace whose planning alone had occupied ten whole years of his life, and to which marvelling crowds made pilgrimage long before its completion, he did something strange. No one will ever know for sure what made him do it, whether wisdom or self-hatred, but the night after the foundation stone had been laid, when the site was dark and deserted, he went there in secret and buried a termites' nest in a pit beneath the foundation stone itself. Many decades later - almost a life time had elapsed, and the many vicissitudes of his turbulent reign had long since banished all thought of the termites from his mind - when the unique building was finished at last and he, its architect and author, first set foot on the battlements of the topmost tower, the termites, too, completed their unseen work. We have no record of any last words that might shed light on his motives, because he and all his courtiers were buried in the dust and rubble of the fallen palace, but long-enduring legend has it that, when his almost unmarked body was finally unearthed, his face wore a happy smile.“

—  Michael Ende German author 1929 - 1995

"Mirror in the Mirror", page 193

Periyar E. V. Ramasamy photo
John Gay photo

„Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit. Etiam egestas wisi a erat. Morbi imperdiet, mauris ac auctor dictum.“