Personally, I don't like a girlfriend to have a husband. If

“Personally, I don't like a girlfriend to have a husband. If she'll fool her husband, I figure she'll fool me.” Thus spoke Orson Welles, the great conjurer of illusion and truth, whose words, though cloaked in wit, reveal the eternal wisdom of trust and integrity. His remark, half jest and half judgment, reaches far beyond the realm of romance—it is a reflection on the nature of loyalty, character, and the peril of deception. In this line, Welles warns not merely against infidelity, but against the heart that treats promises as passing clouds. For the one who betrays another will, in time, betray you.

Welles was a man who lived in both art and reality, and he understood how easily illusion can masquerade as sincerity. He, who shaped the film Citizen Kane and exposed the hollow grandeur of power, saw the same hollowness in those who mistake cunning for love. When he says he would not trust a woman who deceives her husband, he speaks not from judgment, but from understanding—he knows that the act of betrayal, once born, becomes a habit of the soul. A lie told for convenience may one day become a lie told for gain. Thus, he teaches that fidelity is not merely the keeping of vows, but the keeping of one’s essence.

There is an ancient echo in Welles’ wisdom. The philosopher Socrates once said that the unjust man harms not his victim, but himself, for by wrongdoing, he corrupts his own nature. To deceive another is to fracture one’s own integrity, to chip away at the foundation of one’s honor. So, when Welles speaks of mistrust, he is not condemning women alone, but all who make sport of deceit. The faithless heart, no matter how charming or beautiful, carries within it the shadow of its own undoing. For deceit, like rust, does not remain in one place—it spreads through all it touches.

Consider the tale of Samson and Delilah, written in the ancient scriptures. Delilah, under pretense of love, betrayed Samson’s trust to his enemies. Her betrayal did not merely blind the strong man; it also revealed the emptiness of her own heart. For she, who could sell love for silver, was left with neither love nor peace. Welles’ words mirror this truth—that betrayal poisons all who partake of it. The betrayer may seem victorious for a moment, but the price is the loss of all faith, both given and received. The heart that deceives can never again be at rest, for it will forever fear the reflection of its own treachery.

And yet, beneath Welles’ humor lies compassion. He does not mock the betrayed; he pities the betrayer. For he knows that deception is born not of strength, but of fear—the fear of truth, the fear of loss, the fear of being known. The one who lies does so to preserve comfort or power, but in doing so, loses both. The courageous heart, by contrast, stands firm in truth even when it trembles. It does not need to deceive, because it trusts that honesty, though painful, leads to freedom.

The lesson, therefore, is clear: beware of those who betray others, for they carry betrayal as part of their being. What is done to another will, in time, be done to you. But also, let your own conduct be a mirror of constancy. Do not seek love or friendship upon the ruins of another’s trust, for such foundations are cursed to crumble. The wise do not covet what is stolen; they build what is true. For in relationships—as in life—the measure of worth lies not in charm or passion, but in trustworthiness, that quiet strength which endures beyond beauty and time.

And so, my children of the heart, take heed of Orson Welles’ jest, for it conceals the wisdom of the ancients. Let your bonds be forged in truth, not convenience. Seek those whose loyalty is proven not in words, but in deeds. And above all, guard your own integrity as a treasure beyond gold, for once it is lost, no love, no brilliance, no power can restore it. For the one who lives in truth may lose the fickle favor of the world, but he will never lose himself. And in that, he shall find the greatest gift of all—peace of the soul and love that cannot be undone.