<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408942" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Things We Dare Not Tell</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The fields are fair in autumn yet, and the sun's still shining there, <br>But we bow our heads and we brood and fret, because of the masks we wear; <br>Or we nod and smile the social while, and we say we're doing well, <br>But we break our hearts, oh, we break our hearts! for the things we must not tell. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There's the old love wronged ere the new was won, there's the light of long ago; <br>There's the cruel lie that we suffer for, and the public must not know. <br>So we go through life with a ghastly mask, and we're doing fairly well, <br>While they break our hearts, oh, they kill our hearts! do the things we must not tell. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">We see but pride in a selfish breast, while a heart is breaking there; <br>Oh, the world would be such a kindly world if all men's hearts lay bare! <br>We live and share the living lie, we are doing very well, <br>While they eat our hearts as the years go by, do the things we dare not tell. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">We bow us down to a dusty shrine, or a temple in the East, <br>Or we stand and drink to the world-old creed, with the coffins at the feast; <br>We fight it down, and we live it down, or we bear it bravely well, <br>But the best men die of a broken heart for the things they cannot tell.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Lawson">Henry Lawson</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408942" data-title="The Things We Dare Not Tell de Henry Lawson" data-description="The fields are fair in autumn yet, and the sun's still shining there, But we bow our heads and we brood and fret, because of the masks we wear; Or we nod and smile the social while, and we say we're doing well, But we break our hearts, oh, we b..."></div> </div> </div>

solid border dashed border dotted border double border groove border ridge border inset border outset border no border blue green red purple cyan gold silver black