Best 3188 quotes in «secret quotes» category

She had had such a strong feeling that she needed to talk to someone who would tell her some secret that would make everything alright. She had been unable to think who it was.

She raised her head when she heard my step, and her gaze met my own, over the matron's dipping shoulder, and her eyes grew bright. I knew then how hard it had been to keep, not just from Millbank but from her. I felt that little quickening. It was just as I imagine a woman must feel, when the baby within her gives its first kick. Does it matter if I feel that, that is so small, and silent, and secret?

She told her secret love, not me, i could’nt speak, i smiled.

She thought, I shall never tell it to Jack, the strange love which I feel for this doomed man, as if he were a dog lying in the road with a broken back.

She wasn't my kind of woman and that's why, that night she was. This wine is the Blood of Christ. Brings the truth out of a woman sooner than any confession box does. Makes you trust a stranger with your life, your car keys, your best-guarded secret.

Sina jinsi. Nguzo ya maisha yangu ni historia ya maisha yangu. Historia ya maisha yangu ni urithi wa watu waliojifunza kusema hapana kwa ndiyo nyingi – waliojitolea vitu vingi katika maisha yao kunifikisha hapa nilipo leo – walionifundisha falsafa ya kushindwa si hiari. Siri ya mafanikio yangu ni kujitahidi kwa kadiri ya uwezo wangu wote; au 'pushing the envelope' kwa lugha ya kigeni.

Since the emergence of Facebook, so many persons have become so vulnerable that they no longer have any secret

Siri kubwa ya utajiri kuliko zote duniani ni mawazo yako.

Siri ya mafanikio ni shida!

Siri ya mafanikio yako ni chumba chako. Dali linasema anga ndicho kipimo cha kufikiria; Dirisha linasema utazame nje uone fursa zilizopo ulimwenguni; Feni linasema uwe mtulivu usikurupuke kufanya lolote; Kalenda inasema uwe mtu anayekwenda na wakati; Kioo kinasema ujitazame na ujiamini kabla ya kutenda lolote; Kitabu cha dini kinasema unapaswa kumwamini Mungu ili uishi; Kitanda kinasema ujifunze kuwa na likizo; Mlango unasema usipitwe na fursa ya aina yoyote ile hapa duniani; Saa inasema kila sekunde ina thamani sana katika maisha yako hivyo tumia muda wako vizuri. Amka uishi.

Smartass Disciple: Master, what is the secret recipe of your happiness? Master of Stupidity: If I tell you, there is nobody left to be made fun of.

Smile she told about her secret love, not me, i could’nt speak, i smiled.

So, if there are any couples here this evening having a secret extramarital affair, I encourage you to breed.

Some abusers organise themselves in groups to abuse children and other adults in a more formally ritualised way. Men and women in these groups can be abusers with both sexes involved in all aspects of the abuse. Children are often forced to abuse other children. Pornography and prostitution are sometimes part of the abuse as is the use of drugs, hypnotism and mind control. Some groups use complex rituals to terrify, silence and convince victims of the tremendous power of the abusers. the purpose is to gain and maintain power over the child in order to exploit. Some groups are so highly organised that they also have links internationally through trade in child-pornography, drugs and arms. Some abusers organise themselves around a religion or faith and the teaching and training of the children within this faith, often takes the form of severe and sustained torture and abuse. Whether or not the adults within this type of group believe that what they are doing is, in some way 'right' is immaterial to the child on the receiving end of the 'teachings' and abuse.

Some secrets are heavy because they aren't yours to tell.

Some people’s self-esteem was secretly improved when they discovered that their then-lovers had killed themselves over them.

...some secrets beg to be betrayed. The secret of undeclared love is like that.

Some might claim that like the secret of flying is missing the ground, the secret to immortality is simply not dying.

Sometimes being an actor is like being some kind of detective where you're on the search for a secret that will unlock the character.

Sometimes I hesitate to use the term sexual abuse. It conjures up worst-case scenarios in our minds, and we think, "That will never happen to my kids." And we never begin the conversation regarding sexual abuse with our children. But one violation left in secret can cause significant pain.

Strange, how being left out of a secret always feels like a betrayal of trust.

Sometimes you find a lie, and sometimes it finds you.

So often we look for a magic secret or new technique that will produce tremendous returns and results with little or no work. Those seeking this magic secret will never find it—for the secret to success is to continually live and apply basic, simple fundamentals over a long period of time.

Spring has a secret to tell us: life is for beauty and life is for joy.

Stop. J'en suis sorti. Des souvenirs. Du passé. Mais tôt ou tard les choses que tu as laissé derrière toi te rattrapent. Et les choses les plus simples, quand tu es amoureux, te semblent les plus belles. Parce que leur simplicité n'a pas d'égal. Et j'ai envie de crier. Dans ce silence qui fait mal. Stop. Laisse tomber. Reprends-toi. Voilà. Fermé. A double tour. Au fond du cœur, bien au fond. Dans ce jardin. Quelques fleurs, un peu d'ombre et puis la douleur. Mets-les là, cache les bien surtout, là où personne ne peut les voir. Là où toi tu ne peux pas les voir.

stumbling around I speak to keep from betraying a secret

Successful people are defined as ordinary people who never gave up on their dreams and passion is the secret of that persistence!

Sometimes, to protect a secret we will say it so openly that most will not suspect the truth of what we are saying.

Sometimes you hear people saying that there is a secret to get to where you wanna be, but at a certain point, you discover that you are the secret of your success.

Stay upbeat and keep your head held high. There is no end to the power of positive thinking. I AM looking forward to all the wealth, success, and abundance speeding my way!

That is the secret to survival. Teach fear to those who taught you to be afraid.

Taking trips tore all of us up inside, for they seemed, each journey away from home, something that might have been less selfishly undertaken, or something that would test us, or something that had better be momentous, to justify such a leap into the dark. The torment and guilt - the torment of having the loved one go, the guilt of being the loved one gone - comes into my fiction as it did and does in my life. And most of all the guilt then was because it was true: I had left to arrive at some future and secret joy, at what was unknown, and what was no in New York, waiting to be discovered. My joy was connected with my writing; that was as much as I knew.

Tell me, how do get away from your own self?” she questioned. I knew what she meant with a sickening realization. They knew what I was. Somehow, they had found out my only secret.

That reminds me of when you used to call and see us before Christmas, the year before last. Somehow–somehow life was all dark and secret and beautiful then.

The agony was of suddenly feeling herself so separate and so secret.

The attraction of reading is that it allows you to live, for a few hours, as someone else—grants you access to their head, their thoughts, their secrets.

The art of a Talismanist is to let you experience the Mysterious.

The doings of the quarry had always seemed some bright, forbidden secret. Now it was her secret, and holding it to herself felt warm and delicious, like drinking the last cup of honeyed tea.

The business should come to realize that the secret of Data Science is to remove all ideas, all concepts, in order for the truth to have a chance to reveal itself.

The fact that I am marrying the man of my dreams is all that matters.

THE OLD MAN IN THE CORNER The man in the corner Is dying with words He's crying to be heard His days are marked And his only ears are birds He knows the secret to peace And his experience bleeds and hurts Somebody stop and listen Before he departs the earth! Somebody write his thoughts Before he hits the turf! His eyes are closing their shutters And he just dropped his Beads and stick. His breath is leaving us. Please! Somebody hear him out quick! A little girl rushes to him and Picks up his cane of wood. The old man then turns to her And faintly whispers, "The key to peace is To always stay fair And be good.

The hostility and venomous response the topic of sexual trauma and rape in the military brings up, especially with men from my Era, is revealing. This opposition speaks to their guilt and toward the truth that stays hidden.

The human mind and body contains a myriad of secrets awaiting discovery.

The little island seemed to float on the dark lake-waters. Trees grew on it, and a little hill rose in the middle of it. It was a mysterious island, lonely and beautiful. All the children stood and gazed at it, loving it and longing to go to it. It looked so secret - almost magic. “Well,” said Jack at last. “What do you think? Shall we run away, and live on the secret island?” “Yes!” whispered all the children. “Let’s!

The most secretive news that can make you to shake hands with great people is humility. Pride on the other way is a dream killer.

Then Deborah stood at the wicket gate, the boundary, and there was a woman with outstretched hand, demanding tickets. "Pass through," she said when Deborah reached her. "We saw you coming." The wicket gate became a turnstile. Deborah pushed against it and there was no resistance, she was through. "What is it?" she asked. "Am I really here at last? Is this the bottom of the pool?" "It could be," smiled the woman. "There are so many ways. You just happened to choose this one." Other people were pressing to come through. They had no faces, they were only shadows. Deborah stood aside to let them by, and in a moment they had gone, all phantoms. "Why only now, tonight?" asked Deborah. "Why not in the afternoon, when I came to the pool?" "It's a trick," said the woman. "You seize on the moment in time. We were here this afternoon. We're always here. Our life goes on around you, but nobody knows it. The trick's easier by night, that's all." "Am I dreaming, then?" asked Deborah. "No," said the woman, "this isn't a dream. And it isn't death, either. It's the secret world." The secret world... It was something Deborah had always known, and now the pattern was complete. The memory of it, and the relief, were so tremendous that something seemed to burst inside her heart. "Of course..." she said, "of course..." and everything that had ever been fell into place. There was no disharmony. The joy was indescribable, and the surge of feeling, like wings about her in the air, lifted her away from the turnstile and the woman, and she had all knowledge. That was it - the invasion of knowledge. ("The Pool")

The house may have been impressive in stature, but having gasped as they drove up the driveway, she had been disappointed by the interior. It was so bare. Lacking in things. She was mystified by this invisible wealth and the austerity of the house. She didn’t understand Mrs Zvobgo, she was rich but chose to live, in Tsitsi’s opinion, like a pauper. She was clearly uninterested in buying things. Maybe it was because she had never known poverty. Tsitsi on the other hand felt she was well versed in it. Tsitsi, unlike Mrs Zvobgo, wasn’t above noveau riche vulgarities. She didn’t want any sort of English boarding school minimalism. She wanted more. She wanted things. Things . Things. Things. Many of them. That much she was willing to admit. She made a private decision then that she would change this when she became the woman of this household. She knew they said wealth whispered and rich shouted, but what good was having all that they did if she had to keep it like some sort of secret?

The idea of magic being something that is separate from everyday life – known to the magicians but not the ordinary people – still slows down our recognition that it is here, now, of the Earth and Universe, all around us, and perhaps most essentially, in us.

The NSA may, or may not have rejected the invisible secret operative application form I never even bothered to have sent over to them. I'll never know...

The people through which the Tradition of the Sun spoke were people just like anyone else, and who, one morning or one evening, looked at the world and felt the presence of something greater. They had unwittingly plunged into an unknown sea, and, for the most part, they did not do so again. Everyone, at least once in each incarnation, possessed the secret of the Universe.