Quotes About Secrecy

When you get away with something it's yours only, forever. Heavy and irremediable.

This was their favorite place to meet. It always felt hidden, forgotten. The gold-lettered World Book encyclopedias from the 1980s. The smell of old glue and crumbling paper, the industrial carpet burning her palms. It reminded her of what you did when you were a little girl, making little burrows and hideaways. Like boys did with forts. Eli and his friend, stacking sofa cushions, pretending to be sharpshooters. With girls, you didn't call them forts, though it was the same.

Back when Deenie was in middle school, she was always having sleepovers. All those girly thumping and trills on the other side of his bedroom wall confused and annoyed and stirred him, so he'd sneak down to the basement and page through a mildewed 1985 Playboy he'd found under the laundry chute. The pictures were startling and beautiful, but he always felt ashamed after, standing at the laundry sink where his mom scrubbed his uniform.

But I would never tell anyone that," Dr Severin adds, leaning forward once more. She smiles ruefully. "You can never tell a man or he'll think, Ah! That's what driver her. And that's a way to weaken her.

and everything that's been seen and everything that's hidden.

Their mother, that swan neck, those elegant arms. Her dark hair gathered up tightly with her grandmother's dragonfly combs. So dignified, so refined, carrying so much inside all the time. Surrounded all day by mirrors and never letting anyone see.

You must tell me the truth. I've seen you sneak out. I know it must be where you go.

It was all terrifyingly close and painfully hollow, the prison that neither I nor my mother had ever seen in the life she'd chosen for me.

So close. Yet not close enough that either had mentioned the other to her family—even to the point that my mother had not included her sister in her story of the Exposition. My

me. It was then that I understood her silence about my snooping had been deliberate. She was my ally, but in what, exactly, I had no idea.

Then again maybe there's something that I've been doing in the privacy of my own bedroom my whole life that I think is perfectly normal but is actually illegal in thirty-two states.

He could tell her he loved her. He ached to shout it out loud for the gods and everyone to hear. Little good it would do. Better to trust in the moon's promises than in the word of the Thief of Eddis. He was famous in three countries for his lies.

It isn't an easy thing to give your loyalty to someone you don't know, especially when that person chooses to reveal nothing of himself.

your ability to see is sometimes only as good as your willingness to go unseen.

Everywhere man is in disguise! Who is who is unknown! Try to enter the mask and find out who the man inside really is!

The writing of this book serves as a kind of confession. You, the readers, will be my confidants. I'm going to tell you all my secrets. Things I've never told anybody. Things I don't want anybody to know! I don't want you to breathe a word of what you find out in this book. Keep everything under your hat! Wait a minute, wait a minute…that might not work. I'm not in a confessional booth, and a lot of you are probably not priests. This is a book!

Secrets are such hard things to manage whwn you're not the only one who knows.

Silence is not just about secrecy, Your Majesty. It is grief and it is shame.

Sometimes the worst monsters hide in plain sight, dressed like regular men.

So that was what she'd "do" in this time. She'd be a fiancée. Sort of. A mystery fiancée. Apparently, she'd discovered a useful skill all by herself.

Lepiej jest nie wiedzie? za du?o, przyjacielu. To znaczy, rozs?dnie jest wiedzie? tyle, ile si? da, ale jeszcze rozs?dniej jest utrzymywa? innych w niewiedzy co do w?asnej wiedzy.

The man cupped his hand in front of his lips, speaking to me out of the side of his mouth, so no one would hear – he told me that he enjoyed watching people die.

We must protect the girls," Mrs. Kroehne said. "You understand." I do understand. I am a contaminant and must be kept silent. It has been three months since my baby was born, three months since I walked away from my baby with milk dripping from my breasts. I will not say this to any of these young people during my time among them. I will construct careful lies and memorize them to explain myself, my dark inward life, my hunger for love, my tough resistance to trust.

A young homosexual friend recently said, "It's no secret that you, that one, has such-and-such color hair, is yea high, weighs thus and so, and so on, but when you keep one part of yourself secret, that becomes the most important part of you." And that is true, I think; it may be the most important truth of all.