Quotes About Mystery

The dead have highways. Clive Barker

though she hurried him on, he dawdled, his head back, squinting at the stars. There were no revelations to be had there. Just pinpricks of light in a plain heaven. But he saw for the first time how fine that was. That in a world too full of loss and rage they be remote: the minimum of glory. As she led him across the lightless ground, time and again he could not prevent his gaze from straying skyward.

Men. Young men. Legal age, mind you. But young nonetheless. And it's not what you think. When we meet, we make … magic.

Every moment she wasted saying No to what she KNEW, was a moment lost to comprehension. That her worldview couldn't contain such a mystery without shattering was its liability, and a problem for another day.

You know, as a child I thought somebody came and took the world away in the night and then came back and unrolled it all again the following morning.

So many masks. Was she the only one who had no secret life, no other self in marrow or mind?

The Hell Priest had begun to utter what sounded like a cross between a chant and an equation: numbers and words intertwined.

You don't think that room downstairs was made by the Devil, or his wife?" "I don't want to know who made it," Tammy said. "But I know who fed it; who made it important. People. Just like you and me. Addicted to the place.

He was mystery, he was darkness, he was all she had dreamed of. And if she would only free him he would service her -oh yes- until her pleasure reached that thereshold that, like all theresholds, was a place where the strong grew stronger, and the weak perished.

I used to live in Los Angeles," Norma said. "Off a winding road called Coldheart Canyon.

Why do boys always love talking about ghosts and murders and hangings?' 'Because it's exciting,' Wendell said.

The pleasure of the supernatural short story lies in not having to explain anything. They're just glimpses, a momentary lifting of the veil.

To every hour, its mystery. At dawn, the riddles of life and light. At noon, the conundrums of solidity. At three, in the hum and heat of the day, a phantom moon, already high. At dusk, memory. And at midnight? Oh, then the enigma of time itself; of a day that will never come again passing into history while we sleep. It

Josh Thomas was sitting in Egan's study, reading a chemical analysis journal, when he froze in fright. The rug in the center of the room suddenly rose from the floor as if a ghost were inside and then flew aside. A trapdoor beneath swung open and Pitt's head popped up like a jack-in-the-box. "Sorry to intrude," said Pitt with a cheery smile. "But I just happened to be passing by.

them had been from Mars. But

Bimini Road in the waters off the Bahamas.

Narwhal with a soft whine of the impellers. All of their lights were focused on the seafloor.

and a hooked nose. His skin was the color of weak tea.

Sam and Remi dressed quickly and headed up on deck. When they climbed the steps to the bridge, they could see why Juan had wanted to wake them. Through the windshield they could see the distant shape of Tacaná, the second highest peak in Mexico. It was a dark blue pyramid miles back from the coast, standing alone against the sky. This morning, it was emitting a line of gray smoke that trailed off to the east

past the cemetery outside the town of Rhyolite, Nevada.

Black hair fell past his neck but just short of the shoulders. His head was protected by a stained Mexican sombrero.

humans. "How did they get here? How could a train come to be lost in the middle of the lake all these years?" The tall man gazed out over the calm

I never got Dad's name. The name on an envelope that was sticking out of his pocket read 'Clive Cussler.' That IS an odd name. Yet it sounds vaguely familiar. Whoever.

Giordino looked at Pitt like he was crazy, then followed his gaze up the ravine. Overhead was a dark mass of rock buried beneath a thin layer of ice. Surveying the hillside, Giordino suddenly felt his jaw drop. It wasn't a mound of rock at all, he realized with astonishment. Above them, embedded in the ice, the men found themselves staring at the wooden black hull of a nineteenth-century sailing ship. 80 THE EREBUS STOOD LIKE A FORGOTTEN RELIC OF a bygone era.