Quotes About Concealment

In Mosca's experience, a 'long story' was always a short story someone did not want to tell.

Who had they been, all these mothers and sisters and wives? What were they now? Moons, blank and faceless, gleaming with borrowed light, each spinning loyally around a bigger sphere. 'Invisible,' said Faith under her breath. Women and girls were so often unseen, forgotten, afterthoughts. Faith herself had used it to good effect, hiding in plain sight and living a double life. But she had been blinded by exactly the same invisibility-of-the-mind, and was only just realizing it.

Perhaps illnesses could be left behind, just like small, badly concealed china corpses.

C'era una vera e propria fame in lei, e alle ragazze non si cnfaceva essere fameliche. Le ragazze dovevano sbocconcellare con parsimonia a tavola. e le loro menti dovevano accontentarsi di una dieta morigerata. Ma tutto questo a lei non bastava. Tutta la conoscenza - ogni genere di conoscenza - attirava Faith, e c'era un piacere delizioso, pernicioso, nel carpirla senza essere scoperta.

Mosca felt something enormous swell within the knotted stomach that she hid behind her fists. It seemed it must surge out of her like a wild, black wave, sweeping away stalls and strollers alike and biting the plaster from the walls.

Mosca had come armed with a rich pack of lies, ready to pick whichever seemed to suit Goshawk's mood best. Under the wintry draught of his gaze, however, she felt most of them wither away in her hands.

Everything is really something else in disguise. Of course she was no exception, she reminded herself. Everybody would assume that she was there as the Childersins' novelty pet, or as a Perfume-detector. Nobody would guess that she was there to look for the person who had stolen her history.

There were creases at the corners of her mouth, the marks of too many words bitten back.

Her moment came. Nobody was looking. She sidled quickly across the deck and lost herself among the crates that clustered at the base of the boat's shuddering, discoloured funnel. The air tasted of salt and guilt, and she felt alive.

We're in a nest of secrets here. Don't let down your guard.

It's as if they're wearing a lie, but it doesn't fit them." Trista tried to straighten her thoughts. "They haven't buttoned it the right way, so it's baggy in some places and coming away in others.

At Bramasole, the first secret spot that draws me outside is a stump and board bench on a high terrace overlooking the lake and valley. Before I sit down, I must bang the board against a tree to knock off all the ants. Then I'm happy. With a stunted oak tree for shelter and a never-ending view, I am hidden. No one knows where I am. The nine-year-old's thrill of the hideout under the hydrangea comes back: My mother is calling me and I am not answering.

A motto I've adopted is, if at first you don't succeed, hide all evidence that you ever tried.

Romantic Egoist Nozomi: You've got an idea in your head... how you should act, but you can't act like, so you stifle yourself and don't even try.

Noble deeds that are concealed are most esteemed.

By the time they got to school, both were worn out by trying to think of something to say, and trying _not_ to say what they were really thinking.

It was almost, with Mr. Waive, like the big words were his way of building a protective fence. Syllables to hide behind.

The basis of intimidation as I practiced it was mystery. I wanted the hitter to know nothing about me.

Je passe le plus clair de mon temps à l'obscurcir parce que la lumière me gêne

We become familiar with the outsides of men, as with the outsides of houses, and think we know them, while we are ignorant of so much that is passing within them.

She made sure the Glock was loaded and closed the safe. She strapped on a leather IWB (inside waistband) holster, which would keep the Glock concealed, especially when she wore certain flex-fabric jeans and a dark blazer.

secret revealed is a secret destroyed.

Hester had been right about that too. There had been no sign of either Aaron or Paige in the past three months, and with no victim, there was no case. It also didn't hurt that Simon was fairly well-off or that Aaron Corval, as Simon soon found out to his chagrin if not surprise, had a fairly extensive criminal record. Hester and the Manhattan DA made a deal quietly, away from prying eyes. Nothing signed, of course. No obvious quid pro quo. Nothing so gauche.

It was easy to be anonymous in emails—the best refuge of the technocoward.