Quotes About Secrets

There was that gap between adults and children that reserved to each secrets that were hidden from the other. When you were old enough, you became privy to the secrets that belonged only to adults and lost in turn those that belonged only to children. You did not ever gain all of one or lose all of the other; of each, some you kept and some you never gained.

while Man worked all those years to discover the secrets of life, he never managed to escape his overpowering fascination for death.

Black Will, Shagbag.

He wanted to know things, not reveal them.

This was why he couldn't let Richard know it was the chimes themselves that were loose. Richard would not have accepted what Zedd intended, what Zedd knew he must do.

But as much as he wanted to know the answers, it was against his nature to force someone to tell something she didn't want to. His father had raised him to respect another person's right to keep his own secrets.

made me think I could stop him from saying something to Matt Fenton. I told him that if I ever found out that he had breathed

That's one form of magic, of course. What, just knowing things? Knowing things that other people don't know.

Who shall I shoot? You choose. Now, listen very carefully: where's your coffee? You've got coffee, haven't you? C'mon, everyone's got coffee! Spill the beans!

It's quite easy to accidentally overhear people talking downstairs if you hold an upturned glass to the floorboards and accidentally put your ear to it.

The landscape was snow and green ice on broken mountains. These weren't old mountains, worn down by time and weather and full of gentle ski slopes, but young, sulky, adolescent mountains. They held secret ravines and merciless crevices. One yodel out of place would attract, not the jolly echo of a lonely goatherd, but fifty tons of express-delivery snow.

If there's one thing that really annoys a god, it's not knowing something.

Moist was sure doctors keep skeletons around to cow patients. Nyer, nyer, we know what you look underneath ...

All libraries, everywhere, are connected by the bookworm holes in space created by the strong space-time distortions found around any large collections of books. Only a very few librarians learn the secret, and there are inflexible rules about making use of the fact. Because it amounts to time travel, and time travel causes big problems.

Everyone was guilty of something. Vimes knew that. Every copper knew it. That was how you maintained your authority—everyone, talking to a copper, was secretly afraid you could see their guilty secret written on their forehead. You couldn't, of course. But neither were you supposed to drag someone off the street and smash their fingers with a hammer until they told you what it was.

News is unusual things happening— And usual things happening [...] But news is mainly what someone somewhere doesn't want you to put in the paper— Except that sometimes it isn't [...] News, [...] all depends. But you'll know it when you see it.

The thing about secrets is that they are usually best kept by just one person. That was the special thing about secrets. Some people seemed to think that the best way to keep a secret was to tell as many people as possible; what could possibly go wrong for a secret when there were so many people defending it?

Every human on this earth had secrets.

Your blood reveal your most intimate secrets. Are you dying of leukimia or AIDS? Did you smoke cigarette or drink a glass of wine in the last few hours? Are you prozac because you're depressed, or Viagra because you can't get it up?

Family values meant keeping your head down and your voice soft. It meant having dinner on the table by six and your paycheck in his hand every other Friday. It meant keeping secrets that at any time might explode in your face.

Secrets were safe at the Manor, kept beyond the grave in a devil's bargain to shield the sins of the sinful. No one would tell, ever, about the things that went on there, the weekend-long things, the forbidden things.

The two girls hurried down the street into the labyrinth of the London night.

My secrets cry aloud. I have no need for tongue. My heart keeps open house, My doors are widely swung. An epic of the eyes My love, with no disguise. My truths are all foreknown, This anguish self-revealed. I'm naked to the bone, With nakedness my shield. Myself is what I wear: I keep the spirit spare. The anger will endure, The deed will speak the truth In language strict and pure. I stop the lying mouth: Rage warps my clearest cry To witless agony.

OPEN HOUSE My secrets cry aloud. I have no need for tongue. My heart keeps open house, My doors are widely swung. An epic of the eyes My love, with no disguise. My truths are all foreknown, This anguish self-revealed. I'm naked to the bone, With nakedness my shield. Myself is what I wear: I keep the spirit spare. The anger will endure, The deed will speak the truth In language strict and pure. I stop the lying mouth: Rage warps my clearest cry To witless agony.