Quotes About Riddle

Trying to crack the code used on these sheets will be a perfect puzzle to fill the gaping void

The rise of the West is, quite simply, the pre-eminent historical phenomenon of the second half of the second millennium after Christ. It is the story at the very heart of modern history. It is perhaps the most challenging riddle historians have to solve. And we should solve it not merely to satisfy our curiosity. For it is only by identifying the true causes of Western ascendancy that we can hope to estimate with any degree of accuracy the imminence of our decline and fall.

Who do you think it was that brought the bottle to her?

I rather like mysteries. But I do dislike muddles.

A number of things in 'Dhalgren' are just meant to function as mysteries. They're mysteries when the book begins, and they're mysteries when the book ends.

Agatha Christie never wrote books that just started with a dead body, and a 'Let's find out who the murderer is', which is kind of mysterious but not that mysterious. She always started with, 'How can this thing be happening; isn't it strange?'

One mysterious person looking at another mysterious person equals what? Another mystery.

Savor the mystery, Stephen, we don't get enough of them.

To this day, I've never figured out a single locked-room mystery.

I would love to do a mystery movie.

I think it's great to be a mystery.

You are an enigma, Eragon, a quandary that no one knows how to solve.

De bedrieger, de raadselmaker, de bewaarder van het evenwicht, hij met de vele gezichten die leven vindt in dedood en die geen kwaad vreest; hij die door deuren loopt.

am colored red and blue and yellow and every other hue of the rainbow. I am long and short, thick and thin, and I often rest coiled up. I can eat a hundred sheep in a row and still be hungry. What am I? A dragon, of course, she said without hesitation. No, a woolen rug.

I'm Paige, I whispered. He was serious, for once. Are you the first page, or the last? I didn't answer, not right then.

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.

Abstruse speculations contain vertigo.

A little mystery is not such a bad thing.

The riddle is: How might a war end? Annihilation is one way. Joram's way. He did this, not you. You dreamed a different way. Akiva, too. You, the pair of you, you had the capacity not to hate. The audacity to love. Do you know what a gift that is?

Riddle of destiny, who can show What thy short visit meant, or know What thy errand here below?

Catherine Louisa Pirkis

And you will arrive under a soldier's black mantle With your fearful greenish candle And will not show your face to me. But the riddle cannot torment me for long: Whose hand is here, under that white glove Who sent this wanderer, who comes in darkness?

What is the answer I was silent. In that case, what is the question

Et quid amabo nisi quod aenigma est? ("What shall I love if not the enigma?")