Quotes About Secrets

Unable to confess, they had pleaded to be given peace, pleaded with tears, cries, and ghoulish murders.

although the secrets governments kept were generally about money wasted on dumbass ideas while social services held bake sales.

We've got to stop meeting like this." "No, we don't." He liked meeting like this, over her bare ass, a hot-off-the-presses copy of the Rocky Mountain News, and a steaming cup of coffee. It was so perfect, he planned on doing it every day for the rest of his life. He just hadn't told her yet.

Most people are quite dense. They like little white houses with big stained-glass churches and prefer to do their killing with looks and words behind one another's backs. He paused. Welcome to my house. No secrets allowed. Here we all do our killing with guns and axes and knives. It's more bloody than what most people are accustomed to, yes, but it's far less brutal.

One could keep open secrets only so well before they became a threat to others.

But there are things that happen between a man and a woman in the dark -- that sort of make everything else seem -- unimportant.

We mustn't scream at each other, the walls in this house have ears...

There would be whispers. There were always whispers. And whispers, if left unchecked, could quickly grow into roars.

A lady must have her own private reserve of secrets and strength

He feared me as many men fear women: because their mistresses (or their wives) understand them. They are scarcely adult, some men: they wish women to understand them, and to that end they tell them all their secrets; and then, when they are properly understood, they hate their women for understanding them.

In my defence I can only say that her past, too, like mine, like everyone's in fact, was a locked box. Occasionally we allow people a peep, but generally only at the top level. The darker streams of our memories we negotiate alone.

She knows that whispers can be useful. Sometimes they contain real information. But usually they're fairy tales and lies. This is the worst kind of whisper, the kind that draws you in, gives you hope.

Sometimes you think you know someone, but maybe it's impossible to really know everything about a person, even someone you love. Maybe good people—the very best people—are just better at keeping secrets.

My relationship with my father was strained at best, and there were certain pivotal events that I preferred to forget altogether—events that involved my mother, which I don't really wish to go into now, but I will explain later, I promise.

It makes me think about how Alan behaved over the past few years. How he kept so much hidden from me. I can see now how it was possible, and I don't like how that makes me feel.

It knew things, that smile.

Mom's eyes blazed. "Are you sleeping with her?" Oh, god. Did we have to do this here? Now? "Well, actually," I smirked, "we don't get a lot of sleep.

Secrets. I can't take then with me. If I do, when I go, when I arrive at my final destination, I'll be . . . impure.

I didn't tell him. And I never told her the whole truth. What would it matter? There was nothing she could do; nothing anyone can do or will do.

But if you'd told him, wouldn't it confirm what you most wanted to hide? That there was something wrong with you? Not that you were crazy, maybe. You knew you weren't your mother. But what might happen once the baby was born? New mothers lost it all the time. Ordinary ones, who didn't carry what you carried.

The surface didn't always tell the full story. A carefully constructed façade could hide a myriad of secrets.

How do you know I'm pregnant?" "It's amazing." He cracked his knuckles. "Children always take their own parents for idiots. They come in reeling drunk at 1 am, smelling of cherry brandy and cigarettes, and think the old man's a detective for finding out they weren't studying with a friend.

Client reports. Jack was a private detective." "I don't understand." "I'm— uh— a ghostwriter.

I have always thought that by observing things with a great deal of attention you eventually wrest some of their secrets from them, making them utter what they would most like to keep to themselves.