Quotes About Revelation

In a way," Great –Uncle Merry said. His eyes seemed dazed, unable to focus anywhere, but there was a twitching at the corners of his mouth. Somehow, without smiling, he looked happier than they had ever seen him look before. Jane thought, watching: it is a sad face usually, and that's why there is such a difference.

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

If you pursue the truth far enough you always wind up in the land of paradox. You reach a point where the apparent truth divides into two opposing truths, and then you have to try to reach beyond them to grasp the ultimate truth, their synthesis.

I think we learn the truth about ourselves by telling it to someone else.

and demand an answer." "She didn't have as good a time

They're going to help," she said. He frowned. "I know." "They like you. We all like you." "Oh. My. God." He turned and saw Maya staring at him. "I just got it," she said. "You had sex with Phoebe." She looked at Phoebe. "You had sex with Zane. I can't decide if this is great or too gross for words." Phoebe laughed. Zane walked toward his room. "Just get dressed.

She picked at the place mat in front of her. "They were all in law enforcement. It was some kind of sheriff's convention. Your biological father—Earl Haynes—was a sheriff.

Truth is a strange companion. It devastates one moment and enthralls the next. But it never deceives. And because of that, in the end, it comforts.

She will wake up one morning, or look up one evening at a sunset or a tree, and know that she loves him. This is my hope for her: that she will find her love has grown in secret, as a plant grows underground before it flowers. And one does not poke at the plant before it lifts its head from the soil; one lets it be.

The truth is always something that is told, not something that is known. If there were no speaking or writing, there would be no truth about anything. There would only be what is.

Apocalypse is now a long-running serial: not "Apocalypse Now" but "Apocalypse From Now On.

The painter constructs, the photographer discloses. - Susan Sontag

There is only so much revealing one can do. For every self-revelation, there has to be a self-concealment. A life-long commitment to writing involves a balancing of these incompatible needs.

Lying is a delightful thing, for it leads to the truth. —Fyodor Dostoevsky

And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it.

On Sunday, something washed up on shore.

The pressure of his mouth eased. He drew away, holding her at arm's length. He filled her vision, broad shoulders and shaggy head framed by the crags and cliffs of Connemara. He had a look of astonished delight on his face, while dangerous banked fires smoldered in his eyes. Still gripping her shoulders, he stepped back and said, "Look me in the eye, Caitlin MacBride, and tell me you've been kissed before.

To tell the truth is a beautiful act even if the truth itself is ugly.

Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth. —Buddha

Like the hero of a fairy-tale Mr Norrell had discovered that the power to do what he wished had been his own all along.

Like many spells with unusual names, the Unrobed Ladies was a great deal less exciting than it sounded.

Alexander of Whitby taught that the universe is like a tapestry only parts of which are visible to us at a time. After we are dead, we will see the whole and then it will be clear to us how the different parts relate to each other.

This realisation – the realisation of the Insignificance of the Knowledge – came to me in the form of a Revelation. What I mean by this is that I knew it to be true before I understood why or what steps had led me there.

Without warning a lady appeared. She came from the direction of Friday-street, for she had just been with Mr. Newbolt. She strode capably through the snow. She wore a black silk gown and something very queer swung from a silver chain about her neck. Her smile was full of comfort and her eyes were kind and happy. She was just as Mr. Newbolt had described. And the name of this lady was Death.