Quotes About Secrets

You know, the thing is with people who never talk, the thing is you always suppose they're harbouring some enormous secret. But, just possibly, the secret is, they have absolutely nothing to say.

The Lady Ishil gestured. Oh, we asked. It wasn't difficult. Everyone in this pigsty of a town seems to know where you sleep. A delicately curled lip. She let him go. And with who. Ringil ignored that one. I'm a hero, Mother. What do you expect?

If a mother somehow thinks she deserves to know everything, then she will have to know things that keep her up at night, won't she?

I guess that's how well you know me. You think I like hearing this news." "I'm sorry. This is selfish. I just need to tell someone … outside my life. Get it out of my head, to keep from going nuts, but somewhere safe." She sees me as safe? This brings tears to my eyes. "I trust you, Clem. Are you pissed?

Sometimes you find the panel, but it doesn't open; sometimes it opens, and your gaze meets nothing but a mouse skeleton. But at least you've looked. That's the real distinction between people: not between those who have secrets and those who don't, but between those who want to know everything and those who don't. This search is a sign of love I maintain.

But he knew that she used to read his diary. So he would deliberately write into it, for a date a few weeks ahead, 'Suicide'. Or, sometimes, 'Marriage

I know already that she and her husband have separate beds, indeed separate rooms, and their marriage has been unconsummated—or rather, sex-free—for almost twenty years; but I haven't pressed her for reasons or particulars.

If there's one thing I don't look for in a maid, it's discretion. Except with my own secrets, of course.

There are always rumors, and there are always secrets. And secrets within secrets. They protect us. The truth can be manipulated. But we live within a secret within a secret within a secret within a secret.

All this time, you've been lying to me!

Sometimes your secrets are your only value.

Ah, Lyon: the Achilles' heel of this family. She had forgotten about Lyon, and about disappearing Redmonds.

Use it all you want. Marry him. He'll never really be yours, and you'll never know it. Or maybe you will.

She mulled how very Jonathan of him to effortlessly find his way to her when she needed him, labyrinth or no. Just as he'd effortlessly uncovered her secrets. But that was simply because he'd been born knowing the secret to her. He was hers and she was his. Just as there was one key for every lock

I don't sleep. All night long I'm wide awake, thinking, Secrets, secrets, secrets. There are secrets in my past no one needs to know. Secrets in my present that might kill Kim and Chip. I don't want to take my secrets with me when I go. When I pass through the light, i want to be free of everything and everyone.

Nick? I'm still here, Laurant. -Did you tell Tommy we slept together? No, but you just did. He's standing right here. She fell asleep. But this time she didn't have any dreams or nightmare.

Gabrielle turned to Colm. "These men will be of interest to you." Colm looked them over. "Why is that?" he asked. With her back to the infidels, she whispered, "They like to dig holes.

She had already learned two very unpleasant things about her husband. One: he didn't like being questioned or contradicted. That was going to be a problem

Bravo, Monsieur Grant," Breton said, and everyone applauded. "A secret history.

All the same, our eyes spoke of something good, something deep, something that could grow and flower if the world we lived in would allow it. Something too precious to put into words. Something I would not dare let out into the light of day, not yet.

O que existe entre nós está para além do amor, Fainne. Ele é meu marido, meu amante e amigo, aquele a quem eu posso confiar os meus maiores segredos. Espero que um dia também tu tenhas a alegria de encontrar um parceiro assim, pois nada é mais importante.

But I was tempted to let rumors fly, like keyhole whisperings.

the dream had come again, like the sun after a storm. It was the same dream that had come many times before, battering down the doors of my mind night after night since i was a child. it was the sort of dreams all girls dream, i suppose- a dream of mysterious worlds and hidden doorways, of leaves that breathe and make music when they are rustled in the wind, and river that bubbles and froth with secrets.

So all we know about Hugh MacLean is that his financial situation is unclear, he has an unknown number of illegitimate children, and the family curse is true. I've caught quiet a prize!