Quotes About Mystery

A tale, like the universe, they tell us, expands ceaselessly each time you examine it, until there is finally no telling exactly where it begins, where it ends, or where it places you now.

Behold a fire from the opposite shore.

Science gives up to religion that which cannot be known, and as it does not know what it is, that cannot be known, it surrenders to religion absolute vacuity as the proper sphere for its operations.

The Ghastly Ghost at My Gate

You Hear Some Strange Noises Out Your Window You Should Probably Look And See What It Is

Vampires should never say Uh-Oh!!

Woo woo, secret vampire stuff!

Life begins at night

Infatuation" Speak to me in colors– thus tinted are the windows to your soul. Might that I marvel in the mystery as it skirts 'cross their pond. And yet stilled are the words; they lie like copper upon my tongue–tarnished. For I cannot find them enough to say "I love you.

Wheter outwardly or inwardly, wheter in space or time, the farther we penetrate the unknown, the vaster and more marvelous it becomes.

I believe ghosts are like dogs and they just sort of do things arbitrarily.

A man who drinks only water has a secret to hide from his fellow men

He who looks in through an open window never sees so many things as he who looks at a shut window. There is nothing more profound, more mysterious, more fertile, more gloomy, or more dazzling, than a window lighted by a candle. What we can see in the sunlight is always less interesting than what goes on behind the panes of a window. In that dark luminous hollow, life lives, life dreams, life suffers.

Superstition is the reservoir of all truths.

Here is the charming evening, the criminal's friend;It comes like an accomplice, with stealthy tread.

The dance can reveal everything mysterious that is hidden in music, and it has the additional merit of being human and palpable. Dancing is poetry with arms and legs.

Be charming, and shut up!

Strangeness is a necessary ingredient in beauty.

There are women who inspire you with the desire to conquer them and to take your pleasure of them; but this one fills you only with the desire to die slowly beneath her gaze.

I am a cemetery by the moon unblessed.

I felt as though I were in the presence of one of God's more complicated pranks.

Savor the imminent weirdness of the day.

The problem with love and God, the two of them, is how to say anything about them that doesn't annihilate them instantly with the wrong words, with untruth. . . . In this sense, love and God are equivalents. We feel both, but because we cannot speak clearly about them, we end up–wordless, inarticulate—by denying their existence altogether, and, pfffffft, they die.

If one could only discover the unwritten bases of black magic and apply formulae to them, we would find that they were merely another form of science... perhaps less advance, perhaps more.