Quotes About Enigma

Estoy persuadido de que el mundo es un enigma benigno, que nuestra locura vuelve terrible porque pretende interpretarlo con arreglo a su propia verdad.

Palladism. Then I came to Paris. Maybe they wanted to

4 El que trata de penetrar en la Rosaleda de los Filósofos sin la clave es como el hombre que pretenda caminar sin los pies. Michael Maier, Atalanta Fugiens, Oppenheim

If I could, I would begin this book by telling you what Life is. But unfortunately I do not know what Life is. The only consolation I can find is in the fact that nobody else knows either.

Sin miedo al enigma de ti mismo Acaso encuentres una luz sin noche Perdida en las grietas de los precipicios»

Not seeing people permits us to imagine them with every perfection.

Ma vie est une énigme dont ton nom est le mot. (My life is an enigma, of which your name is the word.)

There are plenty who regard a wall behind which something is happening as a very curious thing.

She was sad with an obscure sadness of which she had not the secret herself. There was in her whole person the stupor of a life ended but never commenced.

The universe appeared to him like an immense malady; everywhere he felt fever, everywhere he heard the sound of suffering, and, without seeking to solve the enigma, he strove to dress the wound.

Abstruse speculations contain vertigo.

I see a dark light.

For there are things that make the dead open their eyes in their graves.

The peculiarity of a language which is desirous of saying all yet concealing all is that it is rich in figures. Metaphor is an enigma, wherein the thief who is plotting a stroke, the prisoner who is arranging an escape, take refuge.

It was all out there—the mystery, the beauty; beyond her ability to see now, but there just the same. It was simply a matter of timing and perspective, what one saw.

A salvo no está ningún secreto.

Perhaps the most complicated things are also the most beautiful.

A little mystery is not such a bad thing.

That is for me to know and for you to dot, dot, dot.-Damon Salvatore

True love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen.

Creamy and leggy, with long azure hair and the eyes of a silent-movie star, she moved like a poem and smiled like a sphinx.

Then it was all over. Or maybe it wasn't. The ones who know can't tell us, and the ones who tell us don't know.

This, he never doubted, was magic.

There were two mysteries, actually: one old, one new. The old one opened his mind, but it was the new one that climbed inside, turned several circle, and settled in with a grunt--like a satisfied dragon in a new cozy lair. And there it would remain--the mystery, in his mind--exhaling enigma for years to come.