Quotes About Concealment

It has to be written, if only to lock away the real key to the story in a single page, and remove that page once the book is finished, so that no one will know what it is all about - as ever, the perfect crime. However, it must be possible for that page to be reconstituted without its secret being revealed, and this dispersal is the very mainspring of theoretical fiction.

Ogni "trasparenza" pone immediatamente il problema del suo contrario, il segreto.

The perfect criminal is the one who lays claim to the crime he has not committed. Who conceals his innocence behind the mask of crime. He is much harder to unmask.

Gute Erziehung besteht darin, dass man verbirgt, wieviel man von sich selber hält und wie wenig von den anderen.

Nothing weighs on us so heavily as a secret.

Secrets have a way of making themselves felt, even before you know there's a secret.

Elle meurt dans mes bras d'un mal qu'elle me cache.

I thought if I told no one it might not be true.

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

But they left their treasure, gold and more gold. Some of it is found- but the finders never tell, because you see they'd only get one-third then: that's the law of treasure. They want it all, so never speak of it.

She watched through a slight mist a party of people who had just come into the restaurant, the movements of arms taking off overcoats, of legs in light-coloured stockings and fee in low-heeled shoes walking over the wooden floor to hide themselves under the tablecloths.

Lois doesn't want to be given away; she doesn't want anybody to know, and I assure you that that's all she cares about. Of course, she'll be furious if anybody knows, and that's why if you go off in a hurry you will make things difficult for me.' She felt hypnotized as she listened to him, impotent.

We bury things so deep we no longer remember there was anything to bury. Our bodies remember. Our neurotic states remember. But we don't.

Are we all living like this? Two lives, the ideal outer life and the inner imaginative life where we keep our secrets?

Don't you, when strangers and friends come to call, straighten the cushions, kick the books under the bed and put away the letter you were writing? How many of us want any of us to see us as we really are? Isn't the mirror hostile enough?

How many of us want any of us to see us as we really are?

I am civilised. My feelings are not.

I needed words because unhappy families are conspiracies of silence.

Human beings often display emotions they do not feel. And they often feel emotions they do not display.

I am desperately looking the other way so that love won't see me.

She had navigated her parents' hostile waters with a child's discretion, learning to keep from one the confessions of the other. Learning to hide love.

For a writer, what you leave out says as much as those things you include. What lies beyond the margin of the text?

This is the city of disguises.

I will set you in the sky and name you. I will hide you in the earth like treasure.