When secrets are shared they can lead to wonderful frienships or terrible disasters. You have to chose who to share your deepest darkest secrets or they can lead to your social downfall.’
Secrets are meant for two, but what happens if they become known by two, three, four ,or many more? Thats what happend to poor Mary on her first day of the eighth grade.
She held the paper tight in her hand looking down at it contently her mind practically bursting with information. She looked over at the girl in the corner head held high, knowing her deepest most darkest secret. Solid sources of information were the best of the best in this cannonball’s life.
I once had a secret, the kind of thing that you don’t tell anybody. The kind of thing that eats at you, destroying your as it burns your soul. I don’t like my secret anymore, it just hurts too much.
i have a secret. It’s hard to not tell it but it’s there, within my soul. Hiding like pages in a book. sometimes i wonder if the secret will die with me. sometimes i wonder if it will come tumbling out one day. i’ll never know, but i’ll keep on living.
It wasn’t like it was a secret or anything, but I wasn’t going to say anything unless I was asked or absolutely had to divulge. Actually it might be fun to have a secret. It’d been a long time since I’d felt that pressure inside. Feeling fit to burst if I didn’t tell someone and release the force of words that had built up and up every time I’d thought about it and rehearsed what I’d say. But it’s always the not telling that makes a secret special. Holding it in is the fun. Practising the words makes it more powerful. The small ego boost from the knowledge that you know something no one else does, gives a person a private power. Once it’s shared, it’s over. The small sense of superiority disappears, the ‘long to say something’ pressure dissipates quickly and it’s no longer a secret. It’s just knowledge. A piece of trivia among all the other pieces, just lying around someone else’s head who has no idea of where it’s been and how it may never have got there.
Why have a secret, and keep it to yourself. I’m not talking about the crazy personal ones, i’m talking about the ones that can change an individual’s thought. the way albert einstein or galileo did, imagine if they kept their thoughts secret.
I have a few secrets. Well, not really because a secret is something no one else knows right? So that would mean that i really dont hav any…because no matter what the secret is, someone i know knows. whether they were there or i told them. It doesn’t really matter, the point of this is, that i don’t think people ever really have secrets per say. Because someone out there knows it as well. Unless the secret is you killed someone.
I told him a secret. A secret that I had been keeping from even myself. But it came out today. And now he knew what I truly was, and I had to accept it.
That one little secret didn’t hold much value; it would never change the world, let alone anyone’s daily life. How, then, was such a trivial piece of information enough to decimate an entire relationship? If only I could make you understand that it was for your own good that I kept it from you.
It’s not hard to read it in your eyes. You’re keeping something from me and as much as you may think you’re protecting me, it is only hurting both you and I. Do yourself a favour and stop being selfish. We both know that it’s not fair for any of us. Now let’s watch this get swallowed up into flames.
I have a secret. I’m in love with a guy. He’s sweet and funny and smart and a million other shades of wonderful. But I have another secret. I’m totally at a loss as to tell him how much he means to me without sounding cheesy.
Secrets will always kill people. Whether you’re trying to keep it in for someone’s sake or telling someone that isn’t supposed to know. It is literally impossible to keep it in- girls, you especially. In the end, do secrets really benefit anyone? Can you really walk away from a situation knowing that you kept a secret from someone? Maybe it’s for the best, or for the worst. You decide.
There was a time when Margie would tell anyone who’d listen all about her little secret. She disguised it, of course, cloaked in the trappings of tall tales or off color jokes, but at the core there was always the truth about her, the truth about what she’d done, the truth about who she’d done it to and with. But no one cared to look that closely.
I have a secret that I’m in conflict about telling people. It’s eating inside me and is dying to come out, but if I tell anyone, it could be of great harm to me socially and psychologically. What am I going to do? I have to make a decision.
Secrets need to be told
secrets need to be kept
They waste time
They save feelings
They can be ugly
Or beautiful
or freeing
or imprisoning
It’s all in your head
I was going to tell, even though I’d promised not to.
It shouldn’t be my secret in the first place.
But I HAD given my word.
Which was more important? To keep my word, or to tell the secret and save the day? Could I live with myself, either way?
It isn’t a secret if only you know it. You need at least two people to know it exists in order to be a secret. If it is only you who hold it, it diminishes over time and becomes a forgotten memory.
He can’t tell me. It’s a secret. She can’t listen. It’s a secret. You can’t write that. It’s a secret. I can’t read that. It’s a secret. Walls of code? Must be a secret. Tax returns? Definitely a secret. Love affairs? Never secret. Bribery? Only secret for a little bit. Sexuality? Usually secret for years. Feelings? Only secret for days.True intentions? Always secret.
It was their little secret. No one would know about the sins she’s commited…they wouldn’t know of the sins he’s made her commit. She was so innocent once before but now he had ruined her..and it wasn’t all bad not always.
Secret rooms and secret lies. That’s all it ever was. My life, my childhood. My past, my present. Nobody bothered with the truth. Nobody told me who I was or what would happen to me. Nobody cared, nobody bothered. And do you know what? I don’t care. Fuck them. Fuck them and their stupid lives. When I come back, and I will. They’ll never know what hit them. They’ll never see it coming because the secret I hold is ten times more dangerous than anything they have ever seen.
I have a secret. God loves you no matter what. He loves the rapist. He doesn’t love everything you do but he will always love you. You are never too deep, too lost, too dark. You are always his love of his life. Love.
Ein Sekret ist eine Flüssigkeit oder eine Zähflüssigkeit, die meist von einer Drüse produziert wird. Menschen, Tiere, Pflanzen haben solche Drüsen. Speicheldrüsen, Schweißdrüsen, wie heißen gleich nochmal die Drüsen, die den Schleim in der Vagina absondern? Ich weiß es nicht. Schleimdrüsen vielleicht ganz einfach.
Secrets seems to bundle up and huddle into a corner somewhere lost in our mind. Over time they seem to burst out, at the seams, but we tend to keep them under tight lock and key.
Secrets are proof of how little someone approves of themselves. To keep a secret of your actions shows how ashamed you are. Bear in mind, of course, that there is a difference between secrets and surprises.
these are things people do not tell. Everyone has them, but children often prize them. They think it to be a game to keep them. ONce a teenager they are a symbol of trust and love, but once an adult they are to hide out indiscretions.
Im not good at keeping secrets. I always find myself having to tell other people .Whats the point of having a secret itf you cant talk about it with anyone. whats the point of locking stuff away inside? you shouldnt have to hide. You shouldnt have to keep a part of you in secret. You should be able to express all of yourself. Even the secret parts.
I have a secret. I’m still head over heels in love with my ex boyfriend. Every time I think I’m getting over him I don’t. I met with him for coffee and now it’s like, what the hell do I do? I can’t stop thinking about him, how he stretched, how he talked, how he did anything. It’s insane and it’s my secret.
I have so many secrets and I can´t live with them anymore cause they will eat me alive.
I will tell you my dirty little secret if you promise you will keep it.
When secrets are shared they can lead to wonderful frienships or terrible disasters. You have to chose who to share your deepest darkest secrets or they can lead to your social downfall.’
Secrets are meant for two, but what happens if they become known by two, three, four ,or many more? Thats what happend to poor Mary on her first day of the eighth grade.
She held the paper tight in her hand looking down at it contently her mind practically bursting with information. She looked over at the girl in the corner head held high, knowing her deepest most darkest secret. Solid sources of information were the best of the best in this cannonball’s life.
maybe i have one or a lot, i dont know, i can rembere that.
I think matteo tell me about a friends who hav
I once had a secret, the kind of thing that you don’t tell anybody. The kind of thing that eats at you, destroying your as it burns your soul. I don’t like my secret anymore, it just hurts too much.
i have a secret. It’s hard to not tell it but it’s there, within my soul. Hiding like pages in a book. sometimes i wonder if the secret will die with me. sometimes i wonder if it will come tumbling out one day. i’ll never know, but i’ll keep on living.
It wasn’t like it was a secret or anything, but I wasn’t going to say anything unless I was asked or absolutely had to divulge. Actually it might be fun to have a secret. It’d been a long time since I’d felt that pressure inside. Feeling fit to burst if I didn’t tell someone and release the force of words that had built up and up every time I’d thought about it and rehearsed what I’d say. But it’s always the not telling that makes a secret special. Holding it in is the fun. Practising the words makes it more powerful. The small ego boost from the knowledge that you know something no one else does, gives a person a private power. Once it’s shared, it’s over. The small sense of superiority disappears, the ‘long to say something’ pressure dissipates quickly and it’s no longer a secret. It’s just knowledge. A piece of trivia among all the other pieces, just lying around someone else’s head who has no idea of where it’s been and how it may never have got there.
Why have a secret, and keep it to yourself. I’m not talking about the crazy personal ones, i’m talking about the ones that can change an individual’s thought. the way albert einstein or galileo did, imagine if they kept their thoughts secret.
I have a few secrets. Well, not really because a secret is something no one else knows right? So that would mean that i really dont hav any…because no matter what the secret is, someone i know knows. whether they were there or i told them. It doesn’t really matter, the point of this is, that i don’t think people ever really have secrets per say. Because someone out there knows it as well. Unless the secret is you killed someone.
I told him a secret. A secret that I had been keeping from even myself. But it came out today. And now he knew what I truly was, and I had to accept it.
That one little secret didn’t hold much value; it would never change the world, let alone anyone’s daily life. How, then, was such a trivial piece of information enough to decimate an entire relationship? If only I could make you understand that it was for your own good that I kept it from you.
Something that proves who your true friends really are.
How about that? Could you keep a secret- one that could kill you, one that could threaten everything you love if you told.
But what if your secret was something you could sell?
Could you bear to take it the grave? What if it held someones life in your hands?
Could you keep a secret?
Lies. Everyone whispers. Around and around. Stories travel. Truth is imaginative manipulation.
It’s not hard to read it in your eyes. You’re keeping something from me and as much as you may think you’re protecting me, it is only hurting both you and I. Do yourself a favour and stop being selfish. We both know that it’s not fair for any of us. Now let’s watch this get swallowed up into flames.
I’m not sure what to write about. I have many secrets, that I only share with David. He’s the only person that I sincerely trust.
I have a secret. I’m in love with a guy. He’s sweet and funny and smart and a million other shades of wonderful. But I have another secret. I’m totally at a loss as to tell him how much he means to me without sounding cheesy.
Secrets will always kill people. Whether you’re trying to keep it in for someone’s sake or telling someone that isn’t supposed to know. It is literally impossible to keep it in- girls, you especially. In the end, do secrets really benefit anyone? Can you really walk away from a situation knowing that you kept a secret from someone? Maybe it’s for the best, or for the worst. You decide.
There was a time when Margie would tell anyone who’d listen all about her little secret. She disguised it, of course, cloaked in the trappings of tall tales or off color jokes, but at the core there was always the truth about her, the truth about what she’d done, the truth about who she’d done it to and with. But no one cared to look that closely.
I have a secret that I’m in conflict about telling people. It’s eating inside me and is dying to come out, but if I tell anyone, it could be of great harm to me socially and psychologically. What am I going to do? I have to make a decision.
Secrets need to be told
secrets need to be kept
They waste time
They save feelings
They can be ugly
Or beautiful
or freeing
or imprisoning
It’s all in your head
I was going to tell, even though I’d promised not to.
It shouldn’t be my secret in the first place.
But I HAD given my word.
Which was more important? To keep my word, or to tell the secret and save the day? Could I live with myself, either way?
It isn’t a secret if only you know it. You need at least two people to know it exists in order to be a secret. If it is only you who hold it, it diminishes over time and becomes a forgotten memory.
noun – a piece of information, usually very juicy, that you shouldn’t tell, but is usually so juicy that you can’t help yourself…
He can’t tell me. It’s a secret. She can’t listen. It’s a secret. You can’t write that. It’s a secret. I can’t read that. It’s a secret. Walls of code? Must be a secret. Tax returns? Definitely a secret. Love affairs? Never secret. Bribery? Only secret for a little bit. Sexuality? Usually secret for years. Feelings? Only secret for days.True intentions? Always secret.
It was their little secret. No one would know about the sins she’s commited…they wouldn’t know of the sins he’s made her commit. She was so innocent once before but now he had ruined her..and it wasn’t all bad not always.
love this is what you do when are little secrets from friends deodorant crimes
Secret rooms and secret lies. That’s all it ever was. My life, my childhood. My past, my present. Nobody bothered with the truth. Nobody told me who I was or what would happen to me. Nobody cared, nobody bothered. And do you know what? I don’t care. Fuck them. Fuck them and their stupid lives. When I come back, and I will. They’ll never know what hit them. They’ll never see it coming because the secret I hold is ten times more dangerous than anything they have ever seen.
(Narrative, not real life. Just sayin’.)
I have a secret. God loves you no matter what. He loves the rapist. He doesn’t love everything you do but he will always love you. You are never too deep, too lost, too dark. You are always his love of his life. Love.
Ein Sekret ist eine Flüssigkeit oder eine Zähflüssigkeit, die meist von einer Drüse produziert wird. Menschen, Tiere, Pflanzen haben solche Drüsen. Speicheldrüsen, Schweißdrüsen, wie heißen gleich nochmal die Drüsen, die den Schleim in der Vagina absondern? Ich weiß es nicht. Schleimdrüsen vielleicht ganz einfach.
Secrets seems to bundle up and huddle into a corner somewhere lost in our mind. Over time they seem to burst out, at the seams, but we tend to keep them under tight lock and key.
if you can’t keep a secret, don’t ask for one.
friendships are ruined by secrets, but only by the ones that weren’t kept.
Secrets are proof of how little someone approves of themselves. To keep a secret of your actions shows how ashamed you are. Bear in mind, of course, that there is a difference between secrets and surprises.
Keeping things from other people . Not revealing confidentiality. Trust. Deceipt. New innovations. Good story. Lack of trust paranoia.
these are things people do not tell. Everyone has them, but children often prize them. They think it to be a game to keep them. ONce a teenager they are a symbol of trust and love, but once an adult they are to hide out indiscretions.
Im not good at keeping secrets. I always find myself having to tell other people .Whats the point of having a secret itf you cant talk about it with anyone. whats the point of locking stuff away inside? you shouldnt have to hide. You shouldnt have to keep a part of you in secret. You should be able to express all of yourself. Even the secret parts.
It wasn’t common knowledge, so the way her eyes lit up– from fear, surprise, disgust; he wasn’t really sure– came as no real surprise.
“What do you mean, no mark?” she asked in a hushed whisper.
“Just that,” he answered, “no mark. I was born that way. Oh… stop looking at me like that, it’s not like I had a choice.”
I have a secret. I’m still head over heels in love with my ex boyfriend. Every time I think I’m getting over him I don’t. I met with him for coffee and now it’s like, what the hell do I do? I can’t stop thinking about him, how he stretched, how he talked, how he did anything. It’s insane and it’s my secret.