Quotes About Secrets

That's bullshit, man," Dannon said. "That whole thing is buried so deep, and the guys who buried it all have stars now. They'd never get you." "That's what I told him," Carver said. "I think he's going to do it anyway. I'm telling you, he's a crazy mean cocksucker. He's got nothing unless I talk, except the 'stan, and he'll use it to bust my balls.

with The Joy of Sex, which he found under the bed—when

What we don't know can't hurt us.

Nearly everybody has his box of secret pain, shared with no one.

Nearly everyone has had a box of secret pain, shared with no one. Will [Hamilton] had concealed his well, laughed loud, exploited perverse virtues, and never let his jealousy go wandering [...] He was always on the edge, trying to hold on to the rim of the family with what gifts he had - care, and reason, application. He kept the books, hired the attorneys, called the undertaker, and eventually paid the bills. The others didn't even know they needed him.

Nearly everyone has had a box of secret pain, shared with no one.

A man who tells secrets or stories must think of who is hearing or reading, for a story has as many versions as it has readers.

Nearly everyone has his box of secret shame, shared with no one.

But from the start I had withheld from him any information about the giant redwoods. It seemed to me that a Long Island poodle who had made his devoirs to Sequoia sempervirens or Sequoia gigantea might be set apart from other dogs--might even be like that Galahad who saw the Grail. The concept is staggering.

He liked to think he was in on the secrets she had. When she smiled slyly, he smiled slyly too, and they exchanged confidences in whispers. The world had drawn close around them, and they were in the center of it, or rather Rose of Sharon was in the center of it with Connie making a small orbit about her. Everything they said was a kind of secret.

Nearly everyone has his box of secret pain, shared with no one.

I wonder if he had a Cathy and who she was.

I remember thinking how wise a man was HC Andersen. The king told his secrets down a well, and his secrets were safe. A man who tells secrets or stories must think of who is hearing or reading, for a story has as many versions as it has readers. Everyone takes what he wants or can from it and thus changes it to his measure. Some pick out parts and reject the rest, some strain the story through their mesh of prejudice. Some paint it with their own delight.

I think today if we forbade our illiterate children to touch the wonderful things of our literature, perhaps they might steal them and find secret joy. Very

All of these years I've cheated Liza. I've given her an untruth, a counterfeit, and I've saved the best for those dark sweet hours. And now I could wish that she may have had some secret caller too. But I'll never know that. I think she would maybe have bolted her heart shut and thrown the key to hell.

A man who tells secrets or stories must think of who is hearing or reading, for a story has as many versions as it has readers. Everyone takes what he wants or can from it and thus changes it to his measure. Some pick out parts and reject the rest, some strain the story through their mesh of prejudice, some paint it with their own delight. A story must have some points of contact with the reader to make him feel at home in it. Only then can he accept wonders. The

their mother is a whore.

From infancy on, we are all spies; the shame is not this but that the secrets to be discovered are so paltry and few.

He is between worlds, this boy. Between the river and the town, between the hogshead and the house, between the taint of his mother and the stain of his pap. He knows some things that he can never say, not even to himself.

The orchestra concludes to a merry burst of applause and the orchestra slides into a waltz—a much-needed chance for the dancers to catch their breath, perhaps even an opportunity for the whispering of urgent secrets and tender promises...

Some memories are meant for not to be said, either they are too Scary to tell, or we love them that much, that we can't explain those in oral words.

I grew up in a family of secrets; there was a lot of pathology in the family.

Happy or Unhappy, families are all mysterious.

unhappy families are conspiracies of silence. The one who breaks the silence is never forgiven.