Quotes About Mystery

Richard K. Morgan

À adorer l'incertitude.

Wait, I see something: It sounds like a lullaby is being sung to children in the other world. Answer: The sound of a swiftly moving current. Koyukon riddle

Mystery is at the heart of creativity.

terra incognita

concéntrate más en la búsqueda del misterio que en los conocimientos que te faltan.

My love of books is a love of what they contain; they hold knowledge as a pitcher holds water, as a dress contains the mystery of a woman's exquisite body. Their physicality matters—do not speak to me of storing books as bytes!

It suddenly made sense. Only twice in his life had he felt this inexplicable, almost mystical attraction to a woman. He'd thought it remarkable, to have found two, when in his heart he'd always believed there was only one perfect woman out there for him. His heart had been right. There was only one.

Life seemed even more of a guessing game than usual.

Sometimes you find the panel, but it doesn't open; sometimes it opens, and your gaze meets nothing but a mouse skeleton. But at least you've looked. That's the real distinction between people: not between those who have secrets and those who don't, but between those who want to know everything and those who don't. This search is a sign of love I maintain.

We live in time, it bounds us and defines us, and time is supposed to measure history, isn't it? But if we can't understand time, can't grasp its mysteries of pace and progress, what chance do we have with history—even our own small, personal, largely undocumented piece of it?

Or perhaps it's that same paradox again: the history that happens underneath our noses ought to be the clearest, and yet it's the most deliquescent. We live in time, it bounds us and defines us, and time is supposed to measure history, isn't it? But if we can't understand time, can't grasp its mysteries of pace and progress, what chance do we have with history—even our own small, personal, largely undocumented piece of it?

Who was it said that the longer we live, the less we understand?

Still, I'm not curious enough to find out. At this stage I prefer not to know.

What happened to the truth is not recorded.

If I asked you "What is life?", you would probably reply, in so many words, that it is all just a coincidence

the history that happens underneath our noses ought to be the clearest, and yet it's the most deliquescent. We live in time, it bounds us and defines us, and time is supposed to measure history, isn't it? But if we can't understand time, can't grasp its mysteries of pace and progress, what chance do we have with history—even our own small, personal, largely undocumented piece of it?

One small revenge might be to die and show no signs of having died.

both her secret life and her despair lay in the same inner chamber of her heart, inaccessible to me.

Margarita m?gdavo sakyti, kad yra dvi r?šys moter?: tos, kurios matomos kiaurai, ir tos, kurios nešioja paslapt?. Ir kad tai yra svarbiausia, k? vyrai išsyk pajunta, ir svarbiausia, kas juos patraukia arba ne. Vienus traukia vieno tipo moterys, kitus kito. Margarita - man nereikia to sakyti - buvo kiaurai matoma, bet kartais ji pavyd?davo toms, kurios nešiojo paslapt? ar apsimesdavo jos apgaubtos.

Vivimos en el tiempo —nos contiene y nos moldea—, pero nunca he creído comprenderlo muy bien.

I don't want you to be a woman of mystery. I think I'd hate it. Either it's just a façade, a game, a technique for ensnaring men, or else the woman of mystery is a mystery even to herself, and that's the worst of all.

Margaret used to say that there were two kinds of women: those with clear edges to them, and those who implied mystery.

Šeimynin?s laim?s paslapt? sudaro ne jos pilnumas ar bent jau ne gyvenimas kartu su visais jos nariais