Quotes About Concealment

I'm a big believer in the negligee, that nearly invisible screen standing between you and the object of your desire.

I am scared almost all the time. But I never tell anyone. I can't afford to. I have to go on pretending I'm this confident person, because if I don't, if I'm quiet, I become invisible.

He had learned something already in the course of his journey. If you carried a closed wooden box, people want to know what is in it.

The best way of keeping a secret is to pretend there isn't one.

Another belief of mine: that everyone else my age is an adult, whereas I am merely in disguise.

If I roll my eyes and mutter, if I clutch at my heart and scream in horror like a third-rate actress chewing up a mad scene, I do it in private and nobody sees but the bathroom mirror.

She sat still, trying to hush her secret heart.

I can't say it. Now, at last, it becomes impossible for me to mouth the words -- I'm fine. I won't say anything.

Diplomats make it their business to conceal the facts.

Never let them know who you really are, how you live, and that you can observe and think, that was her motto.

This is not even the stuff dictators are made of, but this is the kind of madness which is often not found out until it is too late.' Campion

so often my own emotions were hidden not only from other people but from myself. or perhaps it was the other way round: i was hiding from them.

Ziceam: s? trec neobservat, ascuns adânc, în haina-mi sur?, mustind de taine, de?elat, centaur beat, în suc de mur?. ?i-a?a de bine m-am mascat, c? haina-mi deveni natur?, ?i cenu?iul mi-a intrat în ochi, în nas, în piept, în gur?.

The power of the visibleis the invisible.

Nudity, I find, rapidly becomes boring when it is not treated as scandalous.

I've known for a long time that hypocrisy is the secret of sanity. You mustn't let them know you know.

You can hide from others, but you can't hide from yourself.

I did not want to appear before the world as pathetic, deprssed, and psychologically ill. So I erected a barrier of words and wit around myself, so that nobody could see how needy I really was.

What you couldn't see and only imagined was always scarier than what was real.

You have just dined, and however scrupulously the slaughterhouse is concealed in the graceful distance of miles, there is complicity.

Cabbages, whose heads, tightly folded see and hear nothing of this world, dreaming only on the yellow and green magnificence that is hardening within them.

The tomato hides its griefs. Internal damage is hard to spot.

In common honesty, we must not conceal the fact that free forgiveness in one sense will cost everything.

Secrecy is the freedom tyrants dream of.