Secrets Quotes - Page 2

Nightmares and secrets. Ewan wished he knew what had happened to these girls before he found them.

To every whisper if you listen carefully, you will hear or fail to hear something.

It was impossible not to fall in love with him.

Sarah wonders if whatever secrets Grace is protecting feel the same as her own, sometimes just fuzzy and ticklish, like a littler of kittens trying to climb and paw their way out, and sometimes with claws bared, kittens grown to tigers, camouflaged but always ready to spring.

And what if we’d been utterly open? Made jokes about the first wife? What if we’d been that kind of family? Well, I would have been different, surely. But not because I knew the secret. For it wasn’t the secret—the secret that wasn’t a secret anyway—that led to the austerity in our lives. It was the austerity that led to the secret. And what I had been marked by, probably most of all, was the austerity. It had made secrets in my life too. Or silences, anyway, that became secrets. That became lies.

I know a lot of stuff, not only about you, about me (of course) and many other people.... "So how I don't know??" you ask yourself??You never asked me and even you asked me you never understood me. You just said "Okay"... and that's all.

In Lakefield View, everybody has a secret. Behind every smile lies a dark story. Behind every hello is a hidden goodbye.

That was one thing the Divines had taught us: treasure every precious moment. Do the things you've always dreamed of doing. Spend as much time as you can with the ones you love, because tomorrow you might not get the chance.

Nothing weighs on us so heavily as a secret.

Knowing this secret, being the only one chosen to know, makes me feel important in a way. But it’s a negative importance, it’s the importance of a blank sheet of paper. I can know because I don’t count. I feel singled out, but also bereft.

it is funny how things are always perfect as long as you keep quiet. And then, what's the point in having an awesome lover when you do not let yourself admit it, even to your closest friends? And, if you do not kiss and tell, are your affairs real, or nothing more than bedroom distractions; check-in before midnight, check-out before 9 AM?

You like him, Rose. Why don't you just admit that, at least to me?

What I see is nothing - I want what it hides - that is not nothing.

Secrets make life more interesting. You can be in a crowded room with someone and touch them without touching, just with a look, because they know a part of you no one else knows. And whenever you're with them, the two of you are alone, because the you they see no one else can.

Secrets are a part of life. Their mysteries make our world beautiful. Their depths inspire our hearts, intrigue our minds, and embrace our very souls.

The best way of keeping a secret is to pretend there isn't one.

Relationships based on dishonesty, lies,Secrets and cheats R not only predictedto fail but also a waste of precious timeand energie! U can’t fool yourself 4ever!

Political prisoners describe:- extreme physical and emotional torture- distortion of language, truth, meaning and reality- sham killings- begin repeatedly taken to the point of death or threatened with death- being forced to witness abusive acts on others- being forced to make impossible "choices"- boundaries smashed i.e. by the use of forced nakedness, shame, embarrassment- hoaxes, 'set ups', testing and tricks- being forced to hurt othersRitual abuse survivors often describe much the same things.

Eleanor should never have told them about Park's house, but she'd been dying to tell somebody. (This was how people ended up in jail after committing the perfect crime.)

All of us have secrets in our lives. We’re keepers or keptfrom, players or played. Secrets and cockroaches — that’s what will be left at the end of it all.

Never hide things from hardcore thinkers. They get more aggravated, more provoked by confusion than the most painful truths.

I was trying to unravel the complicated trigonometry of the radical thought that silence could make up the greatest lie ever told.

Of what is concealed can also be revealed.

Hard work is the secret of being a genius.

You wanted to belong. The problem was, no matter how well you kept your secret, the very fact of having one was enough to separate you from everyone else.

Secrets are revealed as you are ready to understand them. It seems capricious and mean-spirited of the Grimmerie to hold back, to yield and then to tease with a single page – but then the world is the same way, isn’t it. The world rarely shrieks its meaning at you. It whispers, in private language and obscure modalities, in arcane and quixotic imagery, through symbol systems in which every element has multiple meanings determined by juxtaposition.

If I tell you something Leah, can you keep a secret?" Conor pressed a callused finger across a petroglyph of a deer like a blind man etching memory into his brain.

Secrets are like bullets. Ditto the dark, personal stuff. Folks say they'll take'em off yer hands, share the burden, but really they just load 'em into their own weapons so they can use 'em against you later.

I walk out the door with a heavy feeling in my heart as another secret falls on top of it.

But some secrets are too delicious not to share.

As long as you keep secrets and suppress information, you are fundamentally at war with yourself…The critical issue is allowing yourself to know what you know. That takes an enormous amount of courage.

There are two kinds of secrets. The ones we keep from others and the ones we keep from ourselves.

Every day it got swept. All of the dirt each piece of dust and even the tiniest bread crumb of secret midnight snacks. It lay under that rug.Years went by nobody noticed it’s more defeated crumbled appearance with all the misshaped lumps and bumps. Eventually a boy drips and falls over it people are so surprised and nobody knows what why or how it could have happened. Not even the lady with the sweeping brush.

Life is like a roller-coaster with thrills, chills, and a sigh of relief.

Secrets had the power to kill a marriage,she said. Nonsense, Sylvie said,it was secrets that could save a marriage.

It was weird the way you could be friends with someone but not really know the ugly parts of their lives. We all had our secrets, I supposed.

The best way to keep a secret is to forget about it.

Don't trust people who tell you other people's secrets.

You are the stories and incidents that you never tell to anyone. You are the thoughts that you get while standing under theshower. You are those memories that won't lets you sleep at night peacefully. You are those words that you will never say while speaking with someone. You are those scars that you always hide from everyone. You are those little secrets that you will never let the world know. You are everything that you hide under the identity that you call the real you.

The story of my family. . .changes with the teller.

it's through the simple things in life, through its games, when our minds mature the most and we grow knowledgeable. It's also when the cloth masks of our outer, false personalities are torn asunder, and we are able to see every last blemish of a man's genuine character that they hide beneath... no matter how dark or obscene it may be.

A secret spoken finds wings.

There is nothing like discovering your own secrets in someone else’s story. Those thoughts and feelings you believed were too ugly or strange or idealistic or desperate or whimsical or hungry or sad they had to be just you because there could be no other place for them, anywhere. Books that make you realize you’re not alone, you never were. Those are the ones I like best.

The Divines may have taken our homes, our friends, our family, but what we had now we would fight to keep hold of.And if the Divines did decide to try and take it, they'd have a hell of a fight on their hands.

Falling asleep with hopes and wishes that I rarely get to hold in my hand for long…go me. All I’ve got are memories and secrets.

But who ever yet was offered a secret and declined it? Who at least ever declined a love secret? What sister could do so?

To let one into your mind was to give him or her all your secrets.

A tiding of magpies: One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, four for a boy, five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret never to be told

When you shine a bright light, a secret loses all its power.

Secrets are festering parasites to a relationship, devouring their hosts from within, leaving behind a empty hollow husk of what once was.

Secrets aren't secret. They're just hidden treasures, waiting to be exploited.

Secrets, once spoken, have a way of running away from you. They cannot be gathered in again.

As for her, I'd forgotten her for the moment. So I shall never understand why, suddenly, bewilderingly, I was certain that everything I had imagined to be truth was false. False. Only the magic and the dream are true—all the rest's a lie. Let it go. Here is the secret. Here.

Right after Matt died, I was afraid to do basically everything. I couldn’t even bite my nails or sniff my shirt to see if I needed deodorant without feeling like he was watching me. I willed and prayed and begged him to give me a sign that he was watching, that he was with me, so I would know. But he never did. Time moved on. And I stopped being afraid. Until right now, vulnerable and insecure and a little bit drunk. Lying in the sand and falling in crazy love with someone I just met. Matt is watching me. Observing. Possibly judging. And the worst part of it is, I don’t want to wake up under his landslide of sad rocks anymore. I don’t want to taste the marzipan frosting and the clove cigarettes. I don’t want to think about the blue glass necklace or the books he read to me on his bed or the piles of college stuff or some random boy in the grocery store wearing his donated clothes. I don’t want to be the dead boy’s best-friend-turned-something-else. Or the really supportive neighbor friend. Or the lifelong keeper of broken-hearted secrets.

One of the biggest problem is to notice everything,Secrets and lies kill relationships.

I am good at keeping secrets. I am wrapped in them now, the way I am wrapped in lies, like my sweater, clinging tightly to my skin, even on the hottest of days.

Our enemies had a tendency to take one look at Charlotte, with her short, slim figure and her pretty, delicate Asian features, and assume she was weak. A low level threat.Ten seconds later, the look of surprise on his face as he lay on his back, winded, eyes rolled up and watching her support Kate towards the stairs, said he'd possibly learnt his lesson. Never judge a book by it's cover.

Man is not what he thinks he is, he is what he hides.

How can I pretend that nothing happened?

The hell with your secrets,” shouted Bonnie.“Language, language! How about this: One of you has kept a secret alltheir life, and is doing so even now. One of you is a murderer—and I amnot speaking of a vampire, or a mercy killing, or anything like that. Andthen there is the question of the true identity of Sage—good luck on yourresearch there!One of you has already had their memory erased—and I don’t meanDamon or Stefan. And what about the secret, stolen kiss? And then there isthe question of what happened the night of the motel, that it seems that nobodybut Elena can recall. You might ask her sometime about her theories aboutCamelot.