Quotes About Enigma

Where what is known is so surprising and where what is unknown is so extensive, almost anything can be surmised

It was a mystery to Roger how someone he knew so well could be such an impervious, impenetrable stranger.

There is nothing more mysterious, confounding, and unknowable, than the desires of the human heart.

He had that nameless charm, with a strong magnetism which can only be called "it."

Japan: A stranger hands you a stone and asks you to hold it. Puzzled, you take it. The stone grows. And grows until you are crushed

The words were low, more shape than breath.

Boris, baby. How many lives are you on now?

She wondered how old they were, with their strange smooth faces and silken skin, and the muscled hands that didn't match their educated voices.

What weird things planets were.

Niyara left you information you didn't know you had, and that's one reason we wanted you. But that's not the most important one.

How did he know of this place? What is it, a shadow world, world of the half-told stories?

I should have known she'd read through the riddle of thy presence.

Someone unraveled from the shadows under a gorse shrub, uncoiling taller than anything had a right to from such a small hiding place. The woman swayed like a cobra, standing clad only in a deluge of golden bracelets and necklaces and a bright patterned sarong that stood out like blood on black marble against her skin. Rubies glittered in her ears, her nose, her navel. Rows of tiny beadlike scars shiny as drops of sweat covered her breasts, her arms, her forehead.

Her tongue tasted the air and she smiled from fathomless eyes.

The day was meant for what ineffable creature we must have missed?

[N]ot quite birds, as they were not quite flowers, mysterious and fascinating as are all indeterminate creatures.

A good mystery keeps you up on Saturday night. A bad mystery puts you to sleep on Sunday afternoon. Either way, you come out ahead.

Be silent now and do not tell your magic.

To the Romans, Egypt was exciting: incomprehensible, with a pleasing hint of malignity.

But we are all mythologies, mysterious. We are all mysteries, is what I mean. This may be the only thing in this world I know to be true.

who would mark a sweater, steal a bra, take one shoe?

What a strange thing life is.

Oh dear Everybody in this whole wide world, we do not know anybody, not even ourselves! — Except a little tiny, tiny bit we do. — But we are all mythologies, mysterious. We are all mysteries, is what I mean.

A client is to me a mere unit, a factor in a problem.