We are all, in a sense, experts on secrecy. From earliest childhood we feel its mystery and attraction. We know both the power it confers and the burden it imposes. We learn how it can delight, give breathing space and protect.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
Secrecy is what is known, but not to everyone. Privacy is what allows us to keep what we know to ourselves.
Secrecy is the element of all goodness; even virtue, even beauty is mysterious.
We all have secrets. We've all kept secrets. We've had secrets kept from us, and we know how that feels.
I'm naturally guarded because of the way I was brought up. But I understand people are interested in who I am.
Once, the world was full of mysteries, some of them frightening, some of them wonderful, some of them merely fascinating. Now, it can be a banal and predictable place, the tracks of daily life so well-beaten and defined, our culture awash with the imbecile obvious, our existence suffocating in safety. But mysteries remain.
There are many secrets in us, in the depths of our souls, that we don't want anyone to know about.
It's in our nature. We need to explore and find out what's going on outside of who we are.
In an age that is sometimes nowadays frightening or confusing, we feel reassured by the almost parental-like authority of experts who tell us so clearly what it is we can and cannot do.
Human curiosity, the urge to know, is a powerful force and is perhaps the best secret weapon of all in the struggle to unravel the workings of the natural world.
The very word 'secrecy' is repugnant in a free and open society; and we are as a people inherently and historically opposed to secret societies, to secret oaths, and to secret proceedings.