Best 3188 quotes in «secret quotes» category

In general we are reminded that the word heimlich is not unambiguous, but belongs to two sets of ideas, which, without being contradictory, are yet very different: on the one hand it means what is familiar and agreeable, and on the other, what is concealed and kept out of sight. Unheimlich is customarily used, we are told, as the contrary only of the first signification of heimlich, and not of the second. [...] On the other hand, we notice that Schelling says something which throws quite a new light on the concept of the Unheimlich, for which we were certainly not prepared. According to him, everything is unheimlich that ought to have remained secret and hidden but has come to light.

In good time every secret must be shared and every miracle called into question.

In order to become great, one must understand the secret of time conversion.

In some counties, there is an actual named crime of ritual abuse and there too, there have been convictions.

Instead I’ve built a house made of lies that have come crashing down around me.

In telling a story one of the most successful devices for easily creating uncanny effects is to leave the reader in uncertainty whether a particular figure in the story is a human being or an automaton and to do it in such a way that his attention is not focused directly upon his uncertainty, so that he may not be led to go into the matter and clear it up immediately.

Invoking the moral high ground somehow makes you lose it. Using a secret as a weapon makes you almost as bad as the transgressor.

I remember you only rarely And your fate I do not view But the mark won't be stripped from my soul Of the meaningless meeting with you. Your red house I avoid on purpose, Your red house murky river beside, But I know, that I am disturbing Gravely your heart-pierced respite. Would it weren't you that, on to my lips pressing, Prayed of love, and for love did wish, Would it weren't you that with golden verses Immortalized my anguish. Over future I do secret magic If the evening is truly blue, And I divine a second meeting, Unavoidable meeting with you.

I thought if I told no one it might not be true.

It is a thing that knows no limit, and before it all men are equal; and the silence of king or slave, in presence of death, or grief, or love, reveals the same features, hides beneath its impenetrable mantle the self-same treasure. For this is the essential silence of our soul, our most inviolable sanctuary, and its secret can never be lost;

It is better to have ten skeletons in your closet, than walk with no bones.

... it is easier to tell someone closer to you before you tell your partner.

It is still cheating, even if nobody comes.

It may seem an easy task to disregard a secret but secrets are like splinters beneath the flesh, the infection spreads and spreads and then the limb turns gangrenous and must be sawn away, all for the sake of a sliver of wood.

It's a fact—everyone is ignorant in some way or another. Ignorance is our deepest secret. And it is one of the scariest things out there, because those of us who are most ignorant are also the ones who often don't know it or don't want to admit it. Here is a quick test: If you have never changed your mind about some fundamental tenet of your belief, if you have never questioned the basics, and if you have no wish to do so, then you are likely ignorant. Before it is too late, go out there and find someone who, in your opinion, believes, assumes, or considers certain things very strongly and very differently from you, and just have a basic honest conversation. It will do both of you good.

It's because we live in a beauty-obsessed society where the most important thing a woman can do is make herself attractive to men.

It’s no secret that we all live within a damning illusion called denial. We are doomed by our own far-reaching imaginations and beliefs that extend into a glorified version of eternity. How are we to live sanely on the earth, with our heads in the clouds, when we are so far from being giants? How are we to claim higher ideals, when God is absent from the conversations in our minds? There can be no going back, once we’ve believed in perfection. We are slain by the stories we were taught as children, stories about Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and a God who cares. We pass these heirlooms to our children with the same fervor with which they were delivered, never allowing ourselves to doubt their authenticity or value. I wondered what the view held outside the proverbial slaughterhouse. For a spiritually awakened person, a good God seems the only reasonable answer. If there’s no eternal good, then what would be the use of life? Man lays the tracks of good and evil before the train of his evolution, moving onward into places he barely understands

Între eroare și prostie se poate observa un soi de înrudire și chiar o complicitate secretă pe care nimic, de-a lungul timpului, n-a izbutit s-o înlăture.

I remember on one of my many visits with Thomas A. Edison, I brought up the question of Ingersoll. I asked this great genius what he thought of him, and he replied, 'He was grand.' I told Mr. Edison that I had been invited to deliver a radio address on Ingersoll, and would he be kind enough to write me a short appreciation of him. This he did, and a photostat of that letter is now a part of this house. In it you will read what Mr. Edison wrote. He said: 'I think that Ingersoll had all the attributes of a perfect man, and, in my opinion, no finer personality ever existed....' I mention this as an indication of the tremendous influence Ingersoll had upon the intellectual life of his time. To what extent did Ingersoll influence Edison? It was Thomas A. Edison's freedom from the narrow boundaries of theological dogma, and his thorough emancipation from the degrading and stultifying creed of Christianity, that made it possible for him to wrest from nature her most cherished secrets, and bequeath to the human race the richest of legacies. Mr. Edison told me that when Ingersoll visited his laboratories, he made a record of his voice, but stated that the reproductive devices of that time were not as good as those later developed, and, therefore, his magnificent voice was lost to posterity.

I rest my head on his shoulder, feeling his heart beating against me. I wish I could gather time around us, slowing the minutes, making them last a lifetime. “I was born on the island kingdom of Ghedda,” I whisper. This is a story I never told even to you, Habiba. I tell it now only because I cannot bear to leave him without the truth, knowing only half of me. I raise my head and meet his eyes. “That was more than four thousand years ago. I was the eldest daughter of a wise and generous king.” Aladdin stares at me, his eyes soft and curious, encouraging me to go on. “When I was seventeen, I became queen of Ghedda. In those days, the jinn were greater in number, and the Shaitan held greater sway over the realms of men. He demanded we offer him twenty maidens and twenty warriors in sacrifice, in return for fair seas and lucrative trade. I was young and proud and desired, above all else, to be a fair ruler. I would not bow to his wishes, so he shook our island until it began to fall into the sea.” I shudder, and Aladdin draws me closer. “I climbed to the alomb at the top of the Mountain of Tongues, and there offered myself to the Shaitan, if he would only save my city from the sea.” My voice falls to a whisper, little more than a ripple on the water. “So he took me and made me jinn and put me in the lamp. And then he caused the Mountain of Tongues to erupt, and Ghedda was lost to fire. For he had sworn only to save my people from the sea, not from flame.

I stared you chew down your Swedish meatballs. I hope you could see how you chewed my heart then spit it out

I tilt my head slightly to one side, taking in her blue sleeveless dress which ends a few inches above her knees. She looks exquisite. Definitely perfect for dessert. “I know what I want to eat and it’s not lemon cake.” I say thickly. Heat flares up in her eyes and I know the cake has been forgotten. She wants to be dessert.

I was beginning to agree with the thesis that some truths were better off dead. And buried.

I was recently living more comfortably surrounded by secrets... Like dozens of luxurious satiny pillows, they were embracing me from all directions into safe lulling warmth, thus isolating me from the sharp dead-cold edges of the truth hiding behind their endearingly smooth textures and tender soothing colours. Secrets could be so irresistibly beautiful...

I will become an ocean and make you my greatest secret ever, I'll keep thousands of demons to guard my secret. I'll create storms that none has ever seen. I will lure everyone to the darkest sides and will destroy them if they try to reach you and see what I am hiding back in my heart.

Live your life in such a way that when a video coverage is taken of you either in light or in the darkness, it can receive an applause when it is shown in your chapel for everyone to view!

Lo nggak mesti tau dan mempertanyakan semuanya, Nin! Bikin capek aja. Ada yang lebih baik dibiarkan menjadi rahasia, Nin. Jalanin aja, biarkan mengalir

Look for the copper tablet-box, Undo its bronze lock, Open the door to its secret, Lift out the lapis lazuli tablet and read it, The story of that man, Gilgamesh, who went through all kinds of sufferings.

Los trajes no son otra cosa que símbolos de algo escondido muy adentro.

Love is the secret language of the heart which everyone can understand.

Love should never be a secret and it should never, ever be forgotten.

Macey was across the table from me, and we glanced at each other—an unspoken dread lingering between us like the smell of olive oil and melting cheese, but beside me, Bex was unfazed, and I remembered the power of a secret.

It's not the substance of what you make known to me that's beautiful; it's the opening of your heart. It is the 'yes' in your heart to be mine. The fact that you are revealing the secrets and letting me peer into your heart--that is in itself the beautiful part.

It's very important my parent's don't think I'm starting to fall in love with people, because then they might notice that I'm growing up, and I'm kind of trying to keep it a secret. I think it will cause an incident

It was as though he had secrets, and he wanted you to know he would keep them for the pleasure of depriving you of their taste.

It was difficult to say which were the more dismal, these deserted streets that wandered away to right and left, or the great main thoroughfare with its narcotic and shadowy life. For the latter appeared vast, interminable, grey, and those who travelled by it were scarcely real, the bodies of the living, but rather the uncertain and misty shapes that come sand go across the desert in an Eastern tale, when men look up from the sand and see a caravan pass them, all in silence, without a cry or a greeting. So they passed and repassed each other on those pavements, appearing and vanishing, each intent on his own secret, and wrapped in obscurity.

It was gentler here, softer, its seethe the quietest of whispers, as if, in deference to a drawing room, it had quite deliberately put on its 'manners'; it kept itself out of sight, obliterated itself, but distinctly with an air of saying, 'Ah, but just wait! Wait till we are alone together! Then I will begin to tell you something new! Something white! something cold! something sleepy! something of cease, and peace, and the long bright curve of space! Tell them to go away. Banish them. Refuse to speak. Leave them, go upstairs to your room, turn out the light and get into bed - I will go with you, I will be waiting for you, I will tell you a better story than Little Kay of the Skates, or The Snow Ghost - I will surround your bed, I will close the windows, pile a deep drift against the door, so that none will ever again be able to enter. Speak to them!...' It seemed as if the little hissing voice came from a slow white spiral of falling flakes in the corner by the front window - but he could not be sure. ("Silent Snow, Secret Snow")

It was the only lie she ever told. She did not do it to protect Francisco; she did it because she felt, for some reason which she could not define, that the incident was a secret too precious to share.

I used to think there was a secret when it came to success, until I read a shit load of books and posts and realized the secret is the millionaires are getting rich off idiots like me who believe there truly is a secret.

I was amazed, shocked, and sickened by what I heard throughout the day, over and over, by many victims' stories. I can think of no one with whom I didn't recognize a common thread. These monsters, these evil priests, used the same words and methods on all of us. With each session, I would find something that sent a cold chill down my spine. It amazed and frightened me that the actual words used on me, to rape me, to rape me, were the same as the words used on so many others from all over the United States. You would think that all these priests either were educated in how to concur and rape us, or they met privately with each other to compare notes and develop their plan of attack on us. The pattern was so much the same, with the same words, that you would swear it was scripted and disbursed to these priests. Do they secretly have closed-door meetings on how to abuse us? A chilling thought. Neary's routine of saying the “Our Father” during the rape and making me say it with him, repeating the “thy will be done” over and over, the absolution given me after he “finished,” the threats of having God take my parents away, the lectures about offering my suffering up to God, etc., etc., etc. My experience was identical, word-for-word, to that of many others. The exact words during the abuse were not just close, but exactly the same, as if it were some kind of abuse ritual. Ritual abuse is not limited to the religious definition and can include compulsive, abusive behavior performed in an exact series of steps with little variation. How could these similarities occur without the priests taking the same “abuse seminar” together some place, somehow? Was it taught in the seminary? In some dark corner? It goes beyond coincidence—the similarities in deeds and verbiage that these predators use on us. It truly chilled me to the very marrow of my bones.

Little Pete. He’s not exactly just Astrid’s autistic brother.” He explained briefly while Toto added a chorus of “Sam believes that’s true” remarks. “How do we get Little Pete to do anything?” Dekka asked. “The last time Little Pete felt mortal danger he made the FAYZ,” Sam said. “He needs to be in mortal danger again.” Jack and Dekka exchanged a wary look, each wondering what the other had known or guessed about Little Pete. “Little Pete?” Jack asked. “That little kid has that kind of power?” “Yes,” Sam said simply. “Next to Pete, me, Caine, all of us, we’re like . . . like popguns compared to a cannon. We don’t even know what the limits of his powers are,” Sam said. “What we do know is we can’t communicate with him very well. We can’t even guess what he’s thinking.” “Little Pete,” Dekka muttered and shook her head. “I knew he was important, I got that a long time ago. But he can do that? He has that kind of power?” She pondered for a moment, nodded, and said, “I see why you kept it secret. It’s like having a nuclear weapon in the hands of, well, a little autistic kid.

Making-out is one thing that won’t change even if civilization fizzles and humanity is reduced to two people. So each time Jack and I kiss, it’s as if we’re flipping off the jerks who destroyed our planet, as if we’re screaming at the top of our lungs… We know your secret. And we won’t be made invisible.

Meet me there, where the sea meets the sky...

Memories have big value,... look back look what you have lost (For a moment)..., look what you have been making with this something or somebody... (For a moment) and look now without it... That's value, this is what robots don't have but humanity have!

Nadhiri ni siri.

Nearly everyone has had a box of secret pain, shared with no one.

Ndoto za wachawi ni tofauti kidogo na ndoto takatifu. Wachawi wanapokuwa hawahitaji kusafiri kutoka sehemu moja kwenda nyingine, lakini wana hamu ya kuona wenzao wanafanya nini au wanasema nini, huwa wanalala ubavu mmoja upande wa kushoto kwa jina la mungu wao na la mashetani wote. Kisha wanatoa mvuke wa bluu midomoni mwao. Kupitia mvuke huo, kwa nguvu za Shetani na kwa ruhusa ya Mwenyezi Mungu, wataona na watasikia kila kinachofanyika upande wa pili. Kile wanachotaka kukiona na kukisikia hujifunua katika ufahamu wao kama taswira au maono, kutoka katika akili isiyotambua, ya watu wakifanya au wakisema kitu. Kama wanataka kujua siri za watu wengine, hata wale ambao si wachawi, watazijua kupitia ndoto hizo; kwa sababu ya makubaliano ya wazi, si ya siri, waliyoingia na Shetani. Makubaliano hayo si ya lelemama; yaani yale ambayo hufanywa kwa kutoa kafara ya mnyama, au kufuru ya aina yoyote ile kwa Mwenyezi Mungu, au kwa kuabudu dini za kichawi. Lakini ni kwa sadaka halisi ya wao wenyewe ya mwili na roho kwa Shetani na kwa kufuru ya kuikana kabisa, imani ya Mwenyezi Mungu. Lakini hiyo ni kwa wale wanaotumia uchawi wa kishetani. Wale wanaotumia uchawi wa asili, kama vile kutumia risasi kumroga mtu kwa sababu risasi mungu wake ni sayari ya Zohali, au wale walioingia mkataba wa siri na Shetani, hawana uwezo wa kuota hivyo. Hivyo, si kila mchawi anaweza kuota ndoto za namna hiyo, ni kwa wale tu walioingia mkataba wa wazi na Shetani.

Never hang your dirty laundry in public, the wind might blow it everywhere.

Never tell a man all about yourself, it's bound to lead to trouble.

Nobody knows what is life and still alive