Quotes About Obscurity

I used to wonder how a man of birth and spirit could endure to be wholly insignificant and obscure in a foreign country, when he might live with lustre in his own.

Truth is so obscure in these times, and falsehood so established, that, unless we love the truth, we cannot know it.

Nothing," he said. "Just that I have loved you, even when I was nothing and no one to you, when you didn't know my name and barely knew my face.

And suddenly she resembled not so much a bland dish of pudding as the surface of a well-known, yet never explored lake, and he, standing on the banks, had just seen a movement underwater, an enigmatic shadow that disappeared so quickly he wasn't sure he hadn't imagined the whole thing.

Es ist hell. Es ist Nacht. Es braucht nicht viel. Ich brauche nichts mehr. Die Dinge quellen aus der Tonne, obszön sieht das aus, all die unnützen Sachen, Gier im Kleinen, so fängt das Elend an, mehr zu wollen, als man brauchen kann.

When they die no one will ever know that once they lived.

I am a nobody. ... Treat me as a solar myth, or an echo, or an irrational quantity, or ignore me altogether.

but everything was a fog. When she tried to focus on a single

Something unknown is doing we don't know what.

The night of time far surpasseth the day, and who knows when was the equinox?

Like to an hermit poor in place obscure,I mean to spend my days of endless doubt,To wail such woes as time cannot recure,Where none but Love shall ever find me out.

I love that people can't place me. They don't know my name. That's 'mission accomplished' in my world.

Making love to Aurelia was like rummaging through a card catalog in a deserted library, searching for one very obscure, little-read entry on Hungarian poetry.

All I want is not to die on a day when I went unseen.

It led on and on; vistas of forgotten metal; moribund, stiff in a thousand attitudes of mortality; with not a rat, not a mouse; not a bat, not a spider. Only the Lamb, sitting in his high chair with a faint smile upon his lips; alone in the luxury of his vaulted chamber, where the red carpet was like blood, and the walls were lined with books that rose up...up... volume after volume until the shadows engulfed them.

To be ignored, to be forgotten, this was the worst sadness of all.

the past still held secrets, the past threw its shadows...

There were some things I could never begin to know about.

I have no cause to love Mr. Norrell- far from it. But I know this about him: he is a magician first and everything else second- and Jonathan is the same. Books and magic are all either of them really care about.

The sky was filled with fat stars, swollen from the long night. The moon had risen briefly and then slipped out of sight. It was one of those sad moons that no one looks at or pays attention to. It had hung there a while, misshapen, not shedding any light, and then gone to hide behind the hills.

For my part, I think that the mystery is always greatest where there is the most - emptiness.

We were alone. Where, I could not say, hardly imagine. All was black, and such a dense black that, after some minutes, my eyes had not been able to discern even the faintest glimmer.

The water is deep and dark. It shines like treacle in the lights from the boat. You'd go down, down, down.

I like being infamous. I think it is safe being a cult.