Quotes About Concealment

That was the problem with monsters. Sometimes they looked like everybody else.

Lying is so easy here. I can do it all day long and never be caught.

These clothes are a costume for me. I am playing dress-up in ignorance

He ought to have been taught better than to let his emotions show on his face. Instead, he assumed that others would care about his feelings, so he didn't bother to hide them.

I am well-practiced at being unnoticed, especially here of all places.

what's so great about lying is the not knowing.

Will you tell me how you came to be living…" He stops, as if trying to find the words. "As you were." I remember the care I'd given that he not know. How could I explain the way time seemed to slip from my fingers, the way I became incrementally more detached, more unable to reach out a hand to take anything I wanted?

I cannot share my secrets with her, even to brag. And I admit that I desperately want to brag.

I swallow the howl clawing up my throat.

Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another.

My name is Nobody.

A husband who submits to his wifes yoke is justly held an object of ridicule. A womans influence ought to be entirely concealed.

Envy lurks at the bottom of the human heart like a viper in its hole.

Ah! love is a mystery; it can only live hidden in the depths of the heart. You say, even to your friend, 'Behold her whom I love,' and there is an end of love.

The secret of a great success for which you are at a loss to account is a crime that has never been found out, because it was properly executed.

El descubrira mi engaño y nunca más deseará verme.

She'd swallowed it whole and pretended it meant nothing, and therefore it had come to mean everything.

Some secrets are meant to stay secret forever.

This was how it could be done. This was how you lived with a terrible secret. You just did it. You pretended everything was fine. You ignored the deep, cramplike pain in your stomach. You somehow anesthetized yourself so that nothing felt that bad, but nothing felt that good either.

It was unfortunate the way adults had to repress their true feelings.

It was her only real secret, so it was a pity it wasn't juicier.

My husband hits me, Renata. Never on the face of course. He's far too classy for that. Does yours hit you? And if he does, and this is the question that really interests me: Do you hit back? "I'm fine," she said.

She hadn't told anyone. She'd swallowed it whole and pretended it meant nothing, and therefore it had come to mean everything.

This is how you lived with a terrible secret. You just did it. You pretend everything was fine. You ingored the deep, cramplike pain in your stomach. You somehow anesthetized yourself so that nothing felt that bad, but nothing felt good either.