Quotes About Secrets

Walk out of this with your parents, the stones, and Darroc dead, Ms. Lane, and I'll give you the bloody thing.

Barrons knows virtually everything about me. I wouldn't be surprised if somewhere he has a little file that encompasses my entire life to date, with neatly mounted, acerbically captioned photos—see Mac sunbathe, see Mac paint her nails, see Mac almost die.

I have a box inside me now that never used to exist. I never needed it before. It's down in my deepest, darkest corner, and it's airtight, soundproofed and padlocked. It's where I keep the thoughts I don't know what to do with, that could get me into trouble. Eating Unseelie hammers on the inside of that lid incessantly. I try to keep kissing Barrons in that box, too, but it gets out sometimes.

I swear," she babbled hastily, "I won't tell a soul. I don't care. It's okay with me if you have them. I have absolutely no desire to go to the police or anything like that. I don't even like the police. Police and me have never gotten along. They gave me a ticket once for going forty-five in a forty-five zone; how could I possibly like them after that?" ~Chloe to Dageus

Tonight, the sea was a shiver of dark glass, harboring secrets untold in her depths while on her tranquil surface stars glittered like diamonds.

For a moment I thought Mother and Da had told you, even though they hadn't told me." "No, lass. They didn't tell anyone. And maybe they were a bit heavy-handed, but you can approach this in one of two ways: You can be angry and spiteful and ruin your chances, or you can thank Providence and your da for fetching you the best of the best, Jillian." Jillian rolled her eyes. "If those men are the best, then it's the cloister for certain.

Sometimes I think everybody else in the world knows something I don't know. Like they're all in on some kind of conspiracy and if I just knew that one secret thing, too, the things adults do that baffle me would make perfect sense. Other times I think I know something extra that the whole rest of the world doesn't know and that's why nothing they do makes sense. 'Cause they don't know it and all their actions stem from flawed logic. Unlike mine.

He slowed a little so I could hear him better. "No, they're night people, Ms. Lane. They'll be up and just as willing to see me, as I am to see them. We like to keep tabs on one another. They, however, don't have you. " A slow smile curved his lips. He was hugely pleased with the new secret weapon he had in me. I had a sudden dismal view of my future, of being led around and asked incessantly, like one of those Verizon commercials, Do you feel sick now?

Humans give stuff away all the time, practically tattooing their darkest secrets in neon on their skulls for anyone to see. Perverse fuckers. If they shouldn't think about it, they do. If they should think about it, they don't.

When you have a secret that folks would kill you for, you sit mum on it. From everyone.

Shadows are wonderful things. They hide pain and conceal motives.

have access to all our dirty linen.

Mac: "It's not the sidhe-seers." He stopped and went very still. JZB: "Who is it?" Mac: "The MacKeltars." He was silent a long moment. Then he began to laugh, softly. JZB: "Well played, Ms. Lane." Mac: "I had a good teacher." JZB: "The best. Hop on one foot, Ms. Lane." Mac and Barrons

She doesn't know how to answer the man's question about why she snuck into the conch. She just feels like there's something she needs to protect. Some larval understanding, something cocooned inside her, that seems to get unspun and exploded with each passing year. Big Red curls up in a cold recess of the conch. That's the way to do it, the grown-up voices whisper. Wear your skeleton on the inside out, and keep your insect heart secret.

Wear your skeleton on the inside out, and keep your insect heart secret.

If they heard Death mounting the stairs at night, footsteps that the teenage Beverly swore she could feel vibrating through the floorboards at three a.m., nobody mentioned this intrusion at breakfast.

Cillian fixed his uncle with a homicidal stare. Under the table, he touched his girlfriend's foot with his foot; his eyebrows lifted in apology. His mother shot up with her steaming cauldron of beans, giving everyone another punitive lima ladle and removing the beer from the table.

When you are a kid, it's hard to tell the innocuous secrets from the ones that will kill you if you keep them.

No, I don't have to tell a soul about this, I promised myself. When you are a kid, you don't know yet that a secret, like an animal, can evolve. Like an animal, a secret can develop a self-preserving intelligence. Shaglike, mute and thick, a knowledge with a fur: your secret.

When you're a kid, it's hard to tell the innocuous secrets from the ones that will kill you if you keep them.

She doesn't know how to answer the man's question about why she snuck into the conch. She just feels like there's something she needs to protect. Some larval understanding, something cocooned inside her, that seems to get unspun and exploded with each passing year... That's the way to do it , the grown up voices whisper. Wear your skeleton on the inside out, and keep your insect heart secret.

The worthy ones, the secrets of consequence, swallow up the tongues of the living until they sleep together in the grave. Unseen forces, nevertheless they twist and mold unsuspecting lives, bruise and batter bewildered souls. Omerta -- what happens in the "family" stays in the family. Powerful, percolating, persistent, these insidious secrets are the ones I fear.

Your boys okay?" "Tired, edgy, but giving it all they've got. One of 'em has sworn to get Vau, another is having a love affair with a woman he shouldn't even look at, I'm collecting waifs and strays like an animal shelter, and we nearly killed a treasury agent. But if I told you the really bad stuff, you'd think I have problems.

There was so much we didn't know, so much we would never know. The secrets of the dead are always kept.