Quotes About Secret

We need poetry as living language, the core of every language, something that is still spoken, aloud or in the mind, muttered in secret, subversive, reaching around corners, crumpled into a pocket, performed to a community, read aloud to the dying, recited by heart, scratched or sprayed on a wall. That kind of language.

People say, 'What's the secret to a marriage?' There's no secret - I think you get lucky.

I have always had an interest in performers who play against the most obvious of expectations and are able to find something secret, something withheld, and some level of restraint.

Adopt the pace of tenderness and know that its secret is compassion and forgiveness.

Things forbidden have a secret charm.

you want most of all (see Psalm 84:11). Paul admitted that he had to "learn" the secret of contentment in every situation. So with all of us. That learning process can sometimes be painful, but it is worth all we have to go through to get that knowledge of God's new plan.

I know not from what distant time thou art ever coming nearer to meet me. Thy sun and stars can never keep thee hidden from me for aye. In many a morning and eve thy footsteps have been heard and thy messenger has come within my heart and called me in secret. I know not only why today my life is all astir, and a feeling of tremulous joy is passing through my heart. It is as if the time were come to wind up my work, and I feel in the air a faint smell of thy sweet presence

O that I were stored with a secret, like unshed rain in summer clouds — a secret, folded up in silence, that I could wander away with. O that I had someone to whisper to, where slow waters lap under trees that doze in the sun. The hush this evening seems to expect a footfall, and you ask me for the cause of my tears. I cannot give a reason why I weep, for that is a secret still withheld from me.

What a strange tune is this, that comes out of the music of Spring. It seems like the tune of yellow leaves. Spring has stored up its tears in secret for us all this while. It was afraid we should not understand it, because we were so youthful. It wanted to beguile us with smiles. But we shall sleep our hearts tonight in the sadness of the other shore.

I am resigning because my secret leaves the governor's office vulnerable.

Beyonce's like my secret mother.

I love Dr. Hauschka's blue mascara. It's not so blue that it's like, 'What's wrong with you?' It's more like a secret that you're wearing it.

I'm a big Bond fan.

I know you want me to let you in on some big secret to success in the NBA. The secret is there is no secret. It's just boring old habits.

My beauty secret is absolutely no sun.

I want my own will, and I want simply to be with my will, as it goes toward action. And in the silent, sometimes hardly moving times, when something is coming near, I want to be with those who know secret things or else alone... I want to unfold. I don't want to be folded anywhere, because where I am folded, there I am a lie.

All is a riddle, and the key to a riddle...is another riddle.

For all men live by truth and stand in need of expression. In love, in art, in avarice, in politics, in labor, in games, we study to utter our painful secret. The man is only half himself, the other half is his expression.

Dreams and beasts are two keys by which we find out the secret of our own nature. They are test objects.

In mystical traditions, it is one's own readiness that makes experiences exoteric or esoteric. The secret isn't that you're not being told. The secret is that you're not able to hear.

He knew what the wind was doing to them, where it was taking them, to all the secret places that were never so secret again in life.

The Martians discovered the secret of life among animals. The animal does not question life. It lives. Its very reason for living is life; it enjoys and relishes life.

I leave you gifts of Fate most secret; find no other's Fate, For if you do, no grave is deep enough for your despair No countryfar enough to hide your loss.

ALone, she snuggled luxuriously down through the warm snowbank of linen and wool, sheet and cover, and the colors of the patchwork quilt were bright as the circus banners of old time. Lying there, she felt as small and secret as on those mornings eighty-some-odd years ago when, wakening, she comforted her tender bones in bed.