Quotes About Mystery

One warm night four children stood in front of a bakery. No one knew them. No one knew where they had come from.

Gertrude Chandler Warner

That's what I was doing the day you children found me in your grandfather's room." Mr.

Sometimes, they would write down a decoder key onto the scarf. By tying it around their hair or neck, these spies held the answer to the mystery and no one was the wiser! functional

Gertrude Chandler Warner

Levi, un apellido de los que se murmuran al oído.

Non si conosce mai chi si vuole, ma chi si deve o chi capita, secondo che una mano sleale ci rimescoli, accozzi e sparigli, disponendo o cassando a suo grado gli appuntamenti sui canovacci dei suoi millenni.

All is mystery except our pain.

Incaute voci Spande il tuo labbro : i destinati eventi Move arcano consiglio. Arcano è tutto, Fuor che il nostro dolor. Voix inutiles Verse ta lèvre : c'est un secret vouloir Qui meut les destinées. Tout est secret Hormis notre douleur. (Ultimo canto di Saffo, Dernier chant de Sappho)

omne ignotum pro magnifico est).

Melissa arrived punctually a few minutes after eight. She was on foot and her attire was an incitement to crime.

I was starting to grasp the mysteries of the city in which we had been moving for many hours now. It was as if I sensed its hidden spaces, its secret lives, the windows where people's silhouettes passed for a moment and disappeared forever. I glimpsed, in the broken lines of those streets, the hidden code of my present life and above all my future one.

What you must know is that, there are those who know what you know. What you do not know is those who do not know what you know; and those who know what you do not know. But, you must know that God knows what you know and what you do not know.

The most incredible thing about miracles is that they happen.

Coincidences are spiritual puns.

The only words that ever satisfied me as describing Nature are the terms used in fairy books, charm, spell, enchantment. They express the arbitrariness of the fact and its mystery.

It is a mystery not of the unsolved but soluble type, like the problem of the cause of cancer, but of quite another type.

the cause—that is the place where we cannot go.

a gigantic phantom rose suddenly out of the sea. I started backwards from a tall figure projected against a wall of ice. The wall was an iceberg—and the phantom, I slowly realised, was my own reflection, enormously enlarged.

I've come to this conclusion, on the rustling of the dried leaf skirts. It's like a form of vagueness that lets you imagine things, only you hear it.

La meilleure façon de commencer est de dire : Balthus est un peintre dont on ne sait rien. Et maintenant, regardons les peintures. (p. 91)

Is that the ultimate paradox of life, she wondered, that the universe should become less clear with age?

There will be unapologetic uses of generic types, actors with duplicating roles. Anachronisms, false starts, scarlet clues, a noirish insistence on the pathetic pursuit of human truths will pervade its miserable (quite thin) plot, and while the mystery will seem unsolved, to some it will provide the satisfaction of unrelieved despair.

Love shows up, and you had nothing to do with it.