Quotes About Hidden
So many lives she would never know all unfolding behind those doors.
~ Celeste Ng
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In sostanza chiedevo un letargo, un anestetico, una certezza di essere ben nascosto. Non chiedevo la pace nel mondo, chiedevo la mia.
~ Cesare Pavese
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When a dog is about to rest it often tramps round and round the spot on which it is to recline. Naturalists explain this as the survival of an instinct which in the wild dog served the useful function of guarding it against the presence of harmful creatures hidden in the grass.
~ Chapman Cohen
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Woo woo, secret vampire stuff!
~ Charlaine Harris
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Please hear what I'm not saying
~ Charles C Finn
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I always like walking in the rain, so no one can see me crying." ?Charles Chaplin
~ Charles Chaplin
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Behind anger, is hidden the cemetery. (Derrière la colère, - Se cache le cimetière.)
~ Charles de Leusse
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Sheep are under the bed, but the wolf is on the bed.
~ Charles de Leusse
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Sheep are under the bed, but the wolf is on the bed. (Les moutons sont sous le lit. Mais le loup est sur le lit)
~ Charles de Leusse
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[H]is gaze wandered from the windows to the stars, as if he would have read in them something that was hidden from him. Many of us would, if we could; but none of us so much as know our letters in the stars yet - or seem likely to do it in this state of existence - and few languages can be read until their alphabets are mastered.
~ Charles Dickens
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All of us have wonders hidden in our breasts, only needing circumstances to evoke them.
~ Charles Dickens
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Towards that small and ghostly hour, [Mr. Cruncher] rose up from his chair, took a key out of his pocket, opened a locked cupboard, and brought forth a sack, a crowbar of convenient size, a rope and chain, and other fishing tackle of that nature.
~ Charles Dickens
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No vivacious Bacchanalian flame leaped out of the pressed grape of Monsieur Defarge: but, a smouldering fire that burnt in the dark lay hidden in the dregs of it.
~ Charles Dickens
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When a man bleeds inwardly, it is a dangerous thing for himself; but when he laughs inwardly, it bodes no good to other people.
~ Charles Dickens
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Blind, blind, blind . . .
~ Charles Dickens
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In seasons of pestilence, some of us will have a secret attraction to the disease—a terrible passing inclination to die of it. And all of us have like wonders hidden in our breasts, only needing circumstances to evoke them.
~ Charles Dickens
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But there have been times since, in my manhood, many times there have been, when I have thought, Is it possible, among the possibilities of hidden things, that in the sudden rashness of the child and her wild look so far off, there was any merciful attraction of her into danger, any tempting her towards him permitted on the part of her dead father, that her life might have a chance of ending that day
~ Charles Dickens
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I think the best side of such people is almost hidden from us. What the poor are to the poor is little known, excepting to themselves and God.
~ Charles Dickens
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I have often thought that few people know what secrecy there is in the young under terror
~ Charles Dickens
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I would ask you to believe that he has a heart he very, very seldom reveals and that there are deep wounds in it. My dear, I have seen it bleeding.
~ Charles Dickens
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I have often thought that few people know what secrecy there is in the young under terror. No matter how unreasonable the terror, so that it be terror.
~ Charles Dickens
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The church was old and grey, with ivy clinging to the walls, and round the porch. Shunning the tombs, it crept about the mounds, beneath which slept poor humble men: twining for them the first wreaths they had ever won, but wreaths less liable to wither and far more lasting in their kind, than some which were graven deep in stone and marble, and told in pompous terms of virtues meekly hidden for many a year, and only revealed at last to executors and mourning legatees.
~ Charles Dickens
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Few people know what secrecy there is in the young, under terror. ... I am afraid to think of what I might have done on requirement, in the secrecy of my terror
~ Charles Dickens
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The girl had taken a few restless turns to and fro—closely watched meanwhile by her hidden observer—when the heavy bell of St. Paul's tolled for the death of another day. Midnight had come upon the crowded city. The palace, the night-cellar,* the jail, the madhouse: the chambers of birth and death, of health and sickness, the rigid face of the corpse and the calm sleep of the child: midnight was upon them all.
~ Charles Dickens
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