I can admire the solemn and stately language of worship that recognizes the greatness of God, but it will not warm my heart or express my soul until it has also blended therewith the joyful nearness of that perfect love that casts out fear and ventures to speak with our Father in heaven as a child speaks with its father on earth. My brother, no veil remains.
What was silent in the father speaks in the son, and often I found in the son the unveiled secret of the father.
Humility was a cult in my family. I only got it out of my father by accident when he was very old that he had won an Olympic gold medal.
I am all that hath been, and is, and shall be; and my veil no mortal has hitherto raised.
Well, we have nothing to hide. Our history is an open book. They may find what they are looking for, but the fact is the history of the church is clear and open and leads to faith and strength and virtues.
You may tell the greatest lies and wear a brilliant disguise, but you can't escape the eyes of the one who sees right through you.
I feel bare. I didn't realize I wore my secrets as armor until they were gone and now everyone sees me as I really am.
Certain I am that every author who has written a book with earnest forethought and fondly cherished designs will bear testimony to the fact that much which he meant to convey has never been guessed at in any review of his work; and many a delicate beauty of thought, on which he principally valued himself, remains, like the statue of Isis, an image of truth from which no hand lifts the veil.
I am sorry I didn’t tell you the truth before. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to. You kept asking about Romeo and what he was really like. I was hoping that”—he smiled wistfully—“you would recognize me.
God sees with utter clarity who we are. He is undeceived as to our warts and wickedness. But when God looks at us that is not all He sees. He also sees who we are intended to be, who we will one day become.
Words, like nature, half reveal and half conceal the soul within.
Art like life is an open secret.
Truth is most beautiful undraped.
Perfect sincerity and transparency make a great part of beauty, as in dewdrops, lakes, and diamonds.
The mind of man is capable of anything--because everything is in it, all the past as well as all the future. What was there after all? Joy, fear, sorrow, devotion, valor, rage--who can tell?--but truth--truth stripped of its cloak of time.
Pages of revelation lie open in your empty eyes of blue
The true human condition in its most perfect form has no secrets. It does not hide, but exists in clear love.
