You know there are no secrets in America. It's quite different in England, where people think of a secret as a shared relation between two people.

Secrecy is the badge of fraud.

Where secrecy reigns, carelessness and ignorance delight to hide while skill loves the light.

Women's propensity to share confidences is universal. We confirm our reality by sharing.

To keep your secret is wisdom; but to expect others to keep it is folly.

How can we accept another to keep our secret if we have been unable to keep it ourselves.

Trust him not with your secrets, who, when left alone in your room, turns over your papers.

When a friend, then, indulges in the joy of unburdening a secret on to another friend's bosom, he makes the latter, in his turn, feel the urge to taste the same joy himself. He implores him, it is true, not to tell a soul; but if such a condition were taken absolutely literally, it would at once cut off the flow of these joys at their very source. The general practice is for the secret to be confided only to an equally trustworthy friend, the same conditions being imposed on him. And so from trustworthy friend to trustworthy friend the secret goes moving on round that immense chain, until finally it reaches the ears of just the very person or persons whom the first talker had expressly intended it never should reach.

Secrecy is the first essential in affairs of the State.

It is wise to disclose what cannot be concealed.

I am convinced digestion is the great secret of life.

I usually get my stuff from people who promised somebody else that they would keep it a secret.