But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison house,
I could a tale unfold whose lightest word
Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes like stars start from their spheres,
Thy knotted and combined locks to part,
And each particular hair to stand on end
Like quills upon the fretful porpentine.
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I have play'd the fool, the gross fool, to believe
The bosom of a friend will hold a secret
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I have play'd the fool, the gross fool, to believe
The bosom of a friend will hold a secret
Mine own could not contain.
If you wish another to keep your secret, first keep it to
yourself.
If you wish another to keep your secret, first keep it to
yourself.
When we desire to confine our words, we commonly say they are
spoken under the rose.
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When we desire to confine our words, we commonly say they are
spoken under the rose.
- Sir Thomas Browne,
But that's another story.
But that's another story.
For seldom shall she hear a tale
So said, so tender, yet so true.
For seldom shall she hear a tale
So said, so tender, yet so true.
Trust him not with your secrets, who, when left alone in your room, turns over your papers.
Trust him not with your secrets, who, when left alone in your room, turns over your papers.
In after-dinner talk,
Across the walnuts and the wine.
In after-dinner talk,
Across the walnuts and the wine.
And what so tedious as a twice-told tale.
And what so tedious as a twice-told tale.
Men conceal the past scenes of their lives.
[Lat., Vitae poscaenia celant.]
Men conceal the past scenes of their lives.
[Lat., Vitae poscaenia celant.]
