Quotes About Hidden

As the oil is in the olive, so is the teshuvah, repentance, hidden within sin.

The sun hides not the ocean, which is the dark side of this earth, and which is two thirds of this earth. So, therefore, that mortal man who hath more of joy than sorrow in him, that mortal man cannot be true—not

A mantrap may be under his ruddy-tipped daisies.

Admiral Nelson, also, on a capstan of gun-metal, stands his mast-head in Trafalgar Square; and even when most obscured by that London smoke, token is yet given that a hidden hero is there; for where there is smoke, must be fire.

Considerad la sutileza del mar; cómo sus más temidas criaturas se deslizan bajo el agua, sin aparecer en su mayor parte, traidoramente ocultas bajo lo más amables matices del azur.

Every heart is ice-bound till wine melt it, and reveal the tender grass and sweet herbage budding below, with every dear secret, hidden before like a dropped jewel in a snow-bank, lying there unsuspected through winter till spring.

En todas las cosas está oculto siempre un significado: de lo contrario, poco valdrían, y el mundo mismo no sería más que una cifra vacía

The whale, like all things that are mighty, wears a false brow to the common world.

I somehow cling to the strange fancy, that, in all men hiddenly reside certain wondrous, occult properties - as in some plants and minerals - which by some happy but very rare accident (as bronze was discovered by the melting of the iron and brass at the burning of Corinth) may change to be called forth here on earth.

You have but noted his fair cheek. A man-trap may be under his fine ruddy-tipped daisies.

But those wild eyes met his, as the bloodshot eyes of the prairie wolves meet the eye of their leader, ere he rushes on at their head in the trail of the bison; but, alas! only to fall into the hidden snare of the Indian.

There is, one knows not what sweet mystery about this sea, whose gently awful stirrings seem to speak of some hidden soul beneath … for here, millions of mixed shades and shadows, drowned dreams, somnambulisms, reveries; all that we call lives and souls, lie dreaming, dreaming, still.

I'm not that nice, I said. People were always telling me how nice I was. You'd think it would be a compliment, but it was amazing how sometimes it just felt like a kinder way of saying blah. I just keep my horrible side well hidden.

Mislim da su prijateljstva rezultat odre?enih potreba koje mogu biti potpuno skrivene objema osobama, ponekad skrivene zauvijek.

It will be interesting to find out something about her that no one else knew.

out of sight,out of mind

Troy has perished, the great city. Only the red flame now lives there. The dust is rising, spreading out like a great wing of smoke and all is hidden. We now are gone, one here, one there. And Troy is gone forever. Farewell, dear city. Farewell, my country, where my children lived. There below, the Greek ships wait.

If history is to be creative, to anticipate a possible future without denying the past, it should, I believe, emphasize new possibilities by disclosing those hidden episodes of the past when, even in the brief flashes people showed their ability to resist, to join together, occasionally to win. I am supposing, or perhaps only hoping, that our future may be found in the past's fugitive moments of compassion rather than in its solid centuries of warfare.

Describing Hinduism] All of us dwell on the bring of the infinite ocean of life's creative power. We carry it within us: supreme strength, the fullness of wisdom, unquenchable joy. It is never thwarted and cannot be destroyed. But it is hidden deep, which is what makes life a problem. The infinite is down in the darkest, profoundest vault of our being, in the forgotten well-house, the deep cistern. What if we could bring it to light and draw from it unceasingly. p26

In the background there thudded always the hidden metronome of the Casino, ticking up its little treasure of one-per-cents with each spin of a wheel and each turn of a card – a pulsing fat-cat with a zero for a heart.

MIDNIGHT AMONG THE WORMS

We know so little about each other. We lie mostly submerged, like ice floes, with our visible social selves projecting only cool and white.

No one knew about the squirrel's skull beneath her bed, but no one wanted to know.

But hidden drawers, lockable diaries and cryptographic systems could not conceal from Briony the simple truth: she had no secrets. Her wish for a harmonious, organized world denied her the reckless possibilities of wrongdoing. Mayhem and destruction were too chaotic for her tastes, and she did not have it in her to be cruel.