It does no good to run. And it does no good to hide. But I know what it's like. Your brain shuts down, and you follow your instincts. Or, at least, you think you do. But you know what you're really doing? When you flee through the night, or crawl into your little bolt-hole? You know what's really guiding you? Controlling you? Pushing you on? Genre conventions.
Mike CareyTags: running hiding instincts crawling bolt-hole genre-conventions the-night
Hide until everybody goes home. Hide until everybody forgets about you. Hide until everybody dies.
Yoko OnoSo Tumpty tried hiding upside down, behind a pot plant, under a large cardboard box, with his eyes tightly closed.
Polly DunbarTags: hiding
Never hide yourself! When you say something, don’t be in the shadow; let everyone see you! Whatever you say always put your name under it! Be courageous enough not to use any mask; don’t forget that hiding among the bushes is the affair of the cowards! Let the Sun shines on your face and everyman see you!
Mehmet Murat ildanTags: hiding
Tom always did anger well. Hid it well, but showed it even better
Melina MarchettaIt was any outcast's nightmare.
If I looked carefully, I suspected I might find it beneath the black paint of the small acrylic by the window.
Tags: fear nightmares paint hiding black-mirror covering nancy-werlin
Of course I'm not going to look through the keyhole. That's something only servants do. I'm going to hide in the bay window.
Penelope FarmerI learned how to stop crying.
I learned how to hide inside of myself.
I learned how to be somebody else.
I learned how to be cold and numb.
Tags: tears others cold numb hiding
The mistake ninety-nine percent of humanity made, as far as Fats could see, was being ashamed of what they were; lying about it, trying to be somebody else.
J.K. RowlingTags: inspirational self-acceptance humanity shame lying self-hatred hiding being-someone-else being-someone-else-you-are-not hating-yourself trying-to-be-like-someone-else
I took to the Kingswood the midsummer after the Dame died. I did not swear a vow, but I kept to myself just as strictly, living like a beast in the forest from one midsummer to the next, without fire or iron or the taste of meat. I lived as prey, and I learned from the dogs how to run, from the hare how to hide in the bracken, and from the deer how to go hungry.
In sorrow and pride I exiled myself to Kingswood. I shunned fire for I feared the kingsmen would hunt me down, and so by the way of cold and hunger I came near to refusing life itself. I never thought to anger or please a god by it.
Tags: survival gods forest hunger hiding running-away
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