Quotes About Privacy

I don't ever want to be famous. I never want to live that life. I genuinely hate the fact that I would be stopped for a picture or an autograph all the time.

People speculate on your personal life all the time anyway. So I just think it's important to keep my private life private and my public persona more into music, you know?

I'm not someone who wears shades all the time and ducks into a darkened car in case I'm recognized - that would be absolute misery.

I resisted writing a book for a long time because I didn't want to invade anyone else's privacy or hurt anyone or anger anyone.

I think that the fact that a relationship becomes public is a bit of a bummer. Because it can distract from the real reason why you're together, which is that you just like each other.

There is nothing we like to communicate to others as much as the seal of secrecy together with what lies under it.

She fled up the stairs to her room. But her room did not provide sanctuary enough. She needed to be quite alone. She needed to be somewhere where she could recollect herself and find some peace.

You do not know me. I have no desire either to explain or to justify myself to you.

This was all she would ever have of him, and she was going to enjoy these few days for all they were worth. She would enjoy them in the strict privacy of her heart, without either Piers or anyone else being at all aware of her reason for doing so.

And there was his love for Allie to be hidden from everyone and everything but his own heart.

Life on a large estate for a single gentleman can become very lonely.

She resented his knowing or his discovering. She felt intruded upon. Almost violated.

They seemed very much alone together in the room.

How can you hear your soul if everyone is talking?" He said nothing more that day, but Ha'anala spent hours considering his words. A soul, she decided, was the most real part of a person, and to discover what is real requires privacy.

Emilio was certainly within his rights not to reveal the sordid details of his childhood even to his friends. Or perhaps especially to his friends, whose good opinion of him, he might feel, would not survive the revelations.

the privacy to make a scene was something she would miss in Utopia Ã¢â'¬Â¦ [N]ow, surrounded by these watchers, she felt deprived of a basic right Ã¢â'¬Â¦ [to] behave badly if necessary, until [Preston] responded to her grief." And

Creative work needs solitude. It needs concentration, without interruptions. It needs the whole sky to fly in, and no eye watching until it comes to that certainty which it aspires to, but does not necessarily have at once. Privacy, then. A place apart—to pace, to chew pencils, to scribble and erase and scribble again.

Except for the Body Except for the body of someone you love, including all its expressions in privacy and in public, trees, I think, are the most beautiful forms on the earth. Though, admittedly, if this were a contest, the trees would come in an extremely distant second.

If you try this yourself, I recommend doing so when no one is home. Otherwise, you will run the risk of someone walking in on you and having to witness a scene that includes a mirror, the husband's Stanley Powerlock tape measure, and the half-undressed self, squatting.

Sex is one of those rare topics wherein the desire for others to keep the nitty-gritty of their experiences private is stronger even than the wish to keep mum on one's own nitty-gritty.

They're not going to bother me tonight. They won't denigrate my efforts, or ridicule anything that's mine, won't roll their eyes, or correct me, or cut me short and leave the room. They won't burden, or overwork me, or heap upon me responsibilities that are theirs. And, no more than they are doing, they won't intrude on my privacy, try to embarrass me or make me uncomfortable. Plus, they seem pretty far beyond hurting each other.

My dreams were all my own; I accounted for them to nobody; they were my refuge when annoyed - my dearest pleasure when free.

I cannot tell you how I loathe talking about myself.

What I wrote was intended at least for one other eye - my childhood's companion and friend; but my dreams were all my own; I accounted for them to nobody; they were my refuge when annoyed - my dearest when pleasure when free.