Quotes About Secrets

Annabeth has my number,' Sadie said. 'Which, honestly, brother, is a much easier solution than writing invisible hieroglyphs on your friend's hand. What were you thinking?

Sam chuckled. "She probably won't be too mad. Go. Get it over with." Easy for Sam to say. She knew exactly where she stood in her relationship with Amir. She was happily engaged and never had to worry about secret kisses under blankets because she was a good Muslim girl and would never do such a thing. I, alas, was not a good Muslim girl.

designing a secret passage, where would I put it? He could sometimes figure out how a machine worked by putting his hand on it. He'd learned to fly a helicopter that way. He'd fixed Festus the dragon that way (before Festus crashed and burned). Once he'd even reprogrammed the electronic billboards in Times Square to read: ALL DA LADIES LUV LEO…accidentally, of course.

Hiding your hurt only intensifies it. Problems grow in the dark and become bigger and bigger, but when exposed to the light of truth, they shrink. You are only as sick as your secrets. So take off your mask, stop pretending you're perfect, and walk into freedom.

You're only as sick as your secrets.

names that were so bad that when they dared to whisper them (bitch-cunt-whore-poet) to each other beneath the bedclothes, they were like poison in the air.

He wondered sometimes if it wasn't so much that Tommy and Andy shared a secret as that they liked to make him think they shared a secret. Men never really left the snigger of the schoolyard, they just grew bigger.

The dead were legion and the gods had their own secret agenda.

Secrets had the power to kill a marriage

The kind of stuff you tended not to talk about because it wasn't usually a good idea to reveal so much disrepair to other people.

Who wrote that? Kitty had

quoting Elizabeth I. Do not tell secrets to those whose faith and silence you have not already tested.

All good animals have secret lives.

You can't know a father. They're all magicians. Got two million years of strings and mirrors in their pockets.

Sometimes a house has two histories. One that's less well known. One that people have an interest in keeping less well known.

When I was a girl in Blundermeecen we wondered always if we would see each other again. Each day was uncertain. So, to say good-bye to someone was uncertain, too. Would you see them again? Who could say? Blundermeecen was a place of dark secrets, unmarked graves, terrible curses. Trolls were everywhere! So we said good-bye to each other the best way we could. We said: I promise to always turn back toward you.

is a beautiful place, she thinks, yet somehow an inhospitable one. It's a place of secrets, one that has seen too much and concealed too much to be at peace with itself.

Thank you for listening, he wrote. Dear Beautiful, he wrote. I know I can trust you, he wrote. I think of you all day, he wrote. I wonder how you taste, he wrote. Secret-keeper, he wrote.

Miss Edmunds was one of his secrets. He was in love with her. Not the kind of silly stuff Ellie and Brenda giggled about on the telephone. This was too real and too deep to talk about, even to think about very much.

She jerked to life, her eyes wide open. "Why did that woman give me away?" Then it all began to pour out. Why had she been given away? We'd never told her she was a foundling.

Boy, girl, you just better not try me." He made her swear on the Bible never to tell and never to follow, but still he lay awake a long time. How could he trust everything that mattered to him to a sassy six-year-old? Sometimes it seemed to him that his life was delicate as a dandelion. One little puff from any direction, and it was blown to bits.

and die, die without anyone ever knowing.

One of the vilest secrets of the MacHeaths was that they would purposely maim young pups, hoping to gain a place in the Watch of the Sacred Volcanoes.

Never mind, he said. We all have our ghosts. And not many secrets between a telepath and a clairvoyant. You really must believe we can do some good, she said slowly. To…willingly expose yourself to so many of us. Deadpan, he said, I didn't think it through.