Best 167 quotes in «hidden quotes» category

For some reason, I believed that I had above all else an obligation to protect everyone-- my teachers, my family-- from the knowledge of my cutting. What they did not know would not cause them pain.

For some soldiers, there is a greater war going on behind the gun's shadow of family and friends, than in front of the gun pointing at strange enemies.

General..behold the future of weaponry." "What the hell I am seeing here, Colonel?" "It's..technologart of ancient weaponry, Sir!" "It's..what?

Grace of the Gnani’ [the enlightened one] will take you to moksha [ultimate liberation] and ‘Grace of God’ will give you worldly happiness. God will not take you to moksha, because God cannot be realized without a ‘Gnani’ [the enlightened one], can he? He remains hidden.

Happiness lives in every corner of your home and if you are homeless, it lives under the leaves of trees, hiding beneath the sky's cloudiness. All you need to do is to find it with patience.

He sank back into his black-and-white world, his immobile world of inanimate drawings that had been granted the secret of motion, his death-world with its hidden gift of life. But that life was a deeply ambiguous life, a conjurer's trick, a crafty illusion based on an accidental property of the retina, which retained an image for a fraction of a second after the image was no longer present. On this frail fact was erected the entire structure of the cinema, that colossal confidence game. The animated cartoon was a far more honest expression of the cinematic illusion than the so-called realistic film, because the cartoon reveled in its own illusory nature, exulted in the impossible--indeed it claimed the impossible as its own, exalted it as its own highest end, found in impossibility, in the negation of the actual, its profoundest reason for being. The animated cartoon was nothing but the poetry of the impossible--therein lay its exhilaration and its secret melancholy. For this willful violation of the actual, while it was an intoxicating release from the constriction of things, was at the same time nothing but a delusion, an attempt to outwit mortality. As such it was doomed to failure. And yet it was desperately important to smash through the constriction of the actual, to unhinge the universe and let the impossible stream in, because otherwise--well, otherwise the world was nothing but an editorial cartoon.

Her exceptional beauty also helps her to keep her secrets. Most people tend to think the best of those who are blessed with beauty; we have difficulty imagining that physical perfection can conceal twisted emotions or a damaged mind.

He swore to kill her. She could still see his face when he said it. He was nineteen then. He'd be thirty-nine when released. That was still years away, if there was no early parole. She didn't understand why this had started now, only three years after she was hidden from everyone.

Hidden wisdom is not wisdom! Because wisdom should shine in a way everyone can see!

How much did a Dragon hide, when he walked the streets of the city?

I am constantly torn between the will to be seen and still hidden so god damn well, a contradiction I never figured out.

He danced across my heart like a pirate, Constantly discovering my secrets, Turning over every hidden treasure, Drowning me in his fantasy.

He wants us to search for Him as for hidden treasure, leaving no stone unturned.

I breathed in the safety that came from a hidden secret.

I believe that if markets were hidden deep in obscured places, it would definitely be impossible for some people to get there to make transactions! If you secluded yourself out of sight, your dreams cannot go that far!

I don't care if you have to scream--just scream anonymously

(...) I'd thought of intelligence as an academic thing, not something you used in the real world. Richard showed me differently. Seeing patterns and predicting them, analyzing people's behavior, looking multiple steps ahead . . . always thinking, always planing, never standing still (...) but the biggest thing I learnt from Richard was that the mind can be a more powerful weapon than any spell (...)

- (...) I felt clumsy; weak. Every instinct I had was screaming against going with (him), but I couldn't find the words - You don't know what it was like. What (he) can do. This is what he does. He finds what you want the most, offers it on a plate. And the price is you. You say yes, he owns you (...) - You'll be alive. You just won't be the same (...) You're a good person. I believe that, even if you don't. But if you go with him . . . you won't be. Not by the end.

If nothing on the inside spoils, nothing on the outside will either. This is the hidden secret of this world.

If we go down the rabbit hole of our unconsciousness and try to unravel the knotty points of our life story we may encounter a bunch of hidden niceties or emotional stowaways. Forgotten details in the windmill of our mind may daintily reveal, where things might have gone wrong. (“I wonder what went wrong.”)

If you lead me astray, then my wanderings will bring me to my destination.

I couldn't tell what colour her eyes were. They were wet and dark and shining, like pools of deep, still water. For a second I thought I could see pictures in them, like I was looking right inside her to where her memories were. She smiled, and I wondered if she knew what I'd seen or if she could see the pictures I kept hidden inside myself.

If you keep in secret what would have been used to help you, you will never be helped! Your gifts make way for you to lead; use them well!

If you only have the ability to see what's hidden, you can't see the obvious! If you only have the ability to see the obvious, you can't see what's hidden!

If you stay here, you become lost. And no one can find you. I like lost.

I had a dream about you. In my dreams you are always different, perhaps even more real to me. How can I explain this to you? It seems like in my dreams I envision parts of you that you prefer keep under surface. You hide from me, as if there was something to hide. You push me away, in fear. Now, I know you are not afraid of me, but that you can’t trust yourself, since it’s beyond your control. I know it’s frightening to love someone that much. I know it because I am afraid, too. And I just wish that for once, we would be afraid together.

I had a dream about you. It's been a while since I could remember any of my dreams, and still, this one has left me with such strong impression. Even now, when I am fully awake, your face flashes before my eyes. It's a face I can totally relate to, as if it wasn't any more yours than it is mine. Terrifying thing, you know? I can't say I've felt that sort of intimacy with anyone. For a moment you knew all my secrets, without me even having to tell them. For a moment I even knew them myself… While I was looking into your eyes, I suddenly started to realize things about myself that were unspoken for years, like fragments of my inner life that were deeply repressed. It’s hard to distinguish if they were buried inside because dealing with them was such a dirty work, or if leaving them unnamed meant that it was not possible to define them precisely enough, so they would keep their true meaning. Perhaps, all this life that I've known so far was in fact no more but a dream about living. The only thing that has kept me in touch with reality was you… I know it comes as a surprise, and you may be wondering why it took me so long to come clean. You also may be wondering how come you've never noticed before. I've tricked you on purpose, yes, and you must realize it really has nothing to do with you. It’s always been me. This is why, seeing you in my dream like that, came out as a shock. You also must forgive me. You must forgive me because I know how it looks like, that everything we ever shared was a lie, and it wasn't… I am more of an illusionist that a deceiver, but it all comes from being in fact, a very private person. Even if it was true that you knew me better than anyone, I’d never admit it. I’d rather dig my own heart out, with a rotten spoon, than admitting it. I may let people in my own little world occasionally, but I would never let them be aware of it. I don’t throw my intimacy in front of others, especially when I care. The more I care, the less I give away, and this is something for you to understand, and grant me your forgiveness. I didn't play my tricks on you in order to deceive you, but rather to save myself, and maybe even deceive myself as well. I’ve had hidden my feelings for you so deeply that I've learned to live with them, as if any other casualty. I have done wrong to myself as much as I did to you, and I don’t know if I can forgive myself. So now I wonder, could you forgive me without feeling sorry for me? I certainly don’t deserve your pity. Especially not now that I am awake.

(...) I'm not a hero. I'm just a survivor, that's all. If I ever seemed like I was trying to set myself up as more than that, that was my own mistake.

In the serenity and quiet of this lovely place, touch the depths of truth, feel the hem of Heaven. And when you leave, don't forget why you came...

I spend a lot of time running from things. It works, up to a point. Most of the time when you're in danger, the one who's threatening you isn't after you, not personally. They just want something you have, or you're in the way for some reason. Get away from them and stay away long enough, and things will change. But sometimes what the other person wants isn't a thing, or a piece of information, or some other short-term goal. Sometimes what they want is you. And when that happens, then all running does is put things off. It'll delay them, but if they want you badly enough then eventually they'll catch up again. Sooner or later you'll have to face them - the most you can do is choose the time and the place.

It's good to see the snakes revealing themselves. They weren't actually hidden at all. People hide behind the masks, but eventually you see them for who they truly are.

It sucks when depression is hidden behind the corners.

It used to be that young and inexperienced mages were the favorite prey of non-human magical predators. Nowadays that particular spot on the food chain has been taken over by human magical predators, and being the same species doesn't make them any less cruel. Some mages like taking slaves; Dark mages in particular. The more able and powerful the slave, the more prestige they bring, and young and attractive ones are favored (...) Some mages target others for Harvesting, turning their victims into fuel sources. And then there are other reasons, running the gamut from the brutal and logical to the totally incomprehensible. In the end, all the reasons come down to the same thing: because they want to, and because they can.

I used to pray you know, pray to God that He would somehow stop it. All the nights of listening to my mother scream and things breaking. Of holding my brother and sister and listening to them cry and begging me to stop it.' My voice is slow and steady like a freight train at night. 'I was too young, and we were always told that they'd put us in foster homes where people would rape us if we ever said anything. So we explained away the bruises and my mom wore big sunglasses whenever she left the house. And we invented car accidents if the bruising was too bad to cover with make-up.

I want to go inside the book of your life. Find what's hidden in the pages. Read between the lines. Then hold the book close to my heart.

(...) I was still pissed off, and I knew why (...) It was so black and white, their world. Either you were a sheep or you were a wolf. You didn't use violence or you were a thug. Nothing in between. Well, screw them both (...)

Humility is never about being small, unseen and unnoticed. Humility is really about expressing all the wonder you are in a way that all people see is the awesomeness and greatness of GOD.

I love you like the plant that does not bloom and carries in itself, hidden, the light of those flowers,

I'm like an onion. You can peel away my layers, but the further you go, the more it'll make you cry.

Is love just a butterfly? Love can tell us so many things about the deep waters of our inner self and the secrecy in the hidden brushwood of our emotions. ("Alpha and Omega")

- I think . . . - I hesitated, trying to figure out how to say it - I think you've been afraid of that side of yourself that you've gone too far the other way. You've been pushing yourself to be good and peaceful all the time, and you don't have any kind of safety valve. I know I might not be the best role model but . . . speaking from experience, accepting your dark side works a lot better than trying anything to shut it away.

It's like she has some sort of captivating fire in her eyes. Sometimes she'll look at me and I feel like she's staring into my soul, reading everything I'm trying to keep hidden.

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...

Lying well takes practice. An amateur can pull off a lie as long as no one's looking for it, but soon as they get cross-questioned they go to pieces. A professional, on the other hand, can manage interrogation just fine - they submerge in the lie so well that they actually believe it themselves. There are subtle signs which you can look for, but a good liar never make it obvious.

Many realities hidden behind wall of perception.

Masks camouflage the faces of both good and evil. Keeps hidden what is a truth and what is a lie.

Maybe it's better this way-that we keep our darknesses close, hidden in our minds, protected by our hearts.

My own studies on the natural history of DID indicate only 20% of DID patients have an overt DID adaption on a chronic basis, and 14% of them deliberately disguise their manifestations of DID. Only 6% make their DID obvious on an ongoing basis. Eighty percent have windows of diagnosability when stressed or triggered by some significant event, interaction, situation or date. Therefore, 94% of DID patients show only mild or suggestive evidence of their conditions most of the time. Yet DID patients often will acknowledge that their personality systems are actively switching and/or far more active than it would appear on the surface (Loewenstein et al., 1987). R.P. Kluft (2009) A clinician's understanding of dissociation. pp 599-623.

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