Quotes About Mystery

Body and soul together give glory to God: the sharper the capacity for sorrow and joy, the greater the hallowing; the subtler the delicacy of the daily life, the surer is Christ proved in it. In office or home or hospital; prison, barracks, or church—anywhere at all where men and women are—the mystery of the Incarnation can bear fruit in bodies and souls all day and all night, too.

Across the rectory's east lawn, through a blizzard of flying leaves, something long and thin was flapping in the wind. A ragged figure in a white nightgown hanging lifelessly from the trees.

I hate this case,' stated Gibbons unequivocally. 'I don't know what really happened, I shall probably never know what really happened, and I shall still be a detective sergeant when I'm sixty.

Life is a book and there are a thousand pages I have not yet read.

She turned and looked at him. "Ducks?" she said again. A smile tugged the edge of his mouth. "I hate ducks. Don't know why. I just always have.

Tessa poked at her left incisor with her tongue. It was flat again, an ordinary tooth. "I don't understand what makes them come out like that!" "Hunger," said Jem. "Were you think about blood?" "No." "Were you thinking about eating me?" Will inquired. "No!" "No one would blame you," said Jem. "He's very annoying.

Did Brother Zachariah just steal our cat?

Where there is mystery, it is generally supposed there must be evil.

Between two worlds life hovers like a star, 'Twixt night and morn, upon the horizon's verge. How little do we know that which we are! How less what we may be! The eternal surge Of time and tide rolls on, and bears afar Our bubbles; as the old burst, new emerge, Lash'd from the foam of ages; while the graves Of Empires heave but like some passing waves.

Ye stars! which are the poetry of heaven! If in your bright leaves we would read the fate Of men and empires,-'tis to be forgiven, That in our aspirations to be great, Our destinies o'erleap their mortal state, And claim a kindred with you; for ye are A beauty and a mystery, and create In us such love and reverence from afar, That fortune, fame, power, life, have named themselves a star.

Even if God had created us, He would never have admitted it.

Destiny is always dark.

Where did you come from, baby dear? Out of the Everywhere and into here.

A dainty rogue in porcelain

Enter these enchanted woods, You who dare.

When I am alone in the forest at night-time and jump from one tree to another, I often think that life is so strange.

The Kraken sleepeth: faintest sunlights flee About his shadowy sides; above him swell Huge sponges of millennial growth and height; And far away into the sickly light, From many a wondrous grot and secret cell Unnumbered and enormous polypi Winnow with giant arms the slumbering green. Alfred Lord Tennyson

All writers are vain, selfish, and lazy, and at the very bottom of their motives lies a mystery. Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand.

On December 1, 1947, the Great Beast died, aged seventy-two.

That was a lesson Melisandre had learned long before Asshai; the more effortless the sorcery appears, the more men fear the sorcerer.

Why is it that when one man builds a wall, the next man immediately needs to know what's on the other side?

Will you make a song for him?' the woman asked. 'He has a song,' the man replied. 'He is the prince that was promised, and his is the song of ice and fire.

And when you have it, what then? Some secrets are safer kept hidden. Some secrets are too dangerous to share, even with those you love and trust.

Some doors are best left closed.