thief

If I did sales - my technique would be to hand-seal each deal with gourmet omelets, by Jarod Kintz's secret invisible recipe that I stole.

I flow like a butter in the nailed pan I stole. I also kept the nail, to polish and use as a means of teleportation.

Some steal, earn a lot of money, but lose their honour and become very poor; some work, earn a little money, but gain a good honour and become very rich!

Not all generous hearts are gullible enough to be screwed by cold, calculating, business propaganda. A person who has an eye for what is right and the truth will immediately spot the cunning ways of a selfish "user and hungry grabber" who took initiative to grab the originality from other people they tried to profile, fake befriended and extracted favours." ~ Angelica Hopes, an excerpt from If I Could Tell You

Perhaps the House had heard Harvey wishing for a full moon, because when he and Wendell traipsed upstairs and looked out the landing window, there--hanging between the bare branches of the trees--was a moon as wide and as white as a dead man's smile.

I had a dream about you last night... in it, I tried to sell a squirrel a deposit box to store his nuts in. He stole my cashews in the complimentary snack basket.

Some people just needed to be stolen from.

Avarice is opposed to nobility.It believes that by robbing many of all they have, that it (greed) is cloaked in the nobility that is the birthmark of the people.

The ring which you are holding, my friend, is identical to that one. I had it cut according to the model of the king's ring, and damascened in Spain. The original is still in the Escorial; it would have been pleasant to steal it, for I easily acquire the instincts of a thief when I am in a museum, and I always find objects which have a history - especially a tragic history - uniquely attractive. I am not an Englishman for nothing - but that which is easily enough accomplished in France is not at all practical in Spain: the museums there are very secure.

I would not put a thief in my mouth to steal my brains.

Betrayal is beautiful.

Hot, bright heat filled him like some ecstatic poison, and Hartan's pony shied in terror as a wordless howl burst from his throat. His dripping ears were flat to his skull, fire crackled in his brown eyes, his huge sword blurred in a whirring figure eight before him, and the brigand running at him gawked in sudden panic. The raider's feet skidded in mud as he tried to brake, but it was far too late. He was face-to-face with the worst nightmare of any Norfressan, a Horse Stealer hradani in the grip of the Rage, and a thunderbolt of steel split him from crown to navel.

There is nothing morally wrong with buying stolen goods, unless you know that they were stolen.

Does your guilty past catch up so fast with your age? You've been robbing hex nuts, cap nuts, lock nuts and wing nuts. No wonder you have turned into a greedy nut." ~ Angelica Hopes, If I Could Tell You

It could have been a thief or a murderer. I considered crying out. A thief would run away, but a murderer would murder me. On the other hand, the murderer would probably murder me if I didn't too. That was his whole thing.

I told them that if someone tells a lie, that person is not *just* a liar. If you take something that does not belong to you, you're not *just* a thief. Even if you kill someone, you're not *just* a killer.

Having no applicable skills, in any possible area whatsoever, effectively makes me the master of redundancy. But that info is obsolete, like my insults dictionary, which I stole.

Sleep came on him as a thief, consciousness stolen like a forgotten coin from his pocket.