Quotes About Mystery

i had spent four years propped on the front porch of the fraternity house, bemused and dreaming, watching the sun shine through the spanish moss, lost in the mystery of finding myself alive at such a time and place.

Is all niceness then or is all buggery? How can a man be forty-five years old and still not know whether all is niceness or buggery? How does one know for sure?

I alight at Esplanade in a smell of roasting coffee and creosote and walk up Royal Street. The lower Quarter is the best part. The ironwork on the balconies sags like rotten lace. Little French cottages hide behind high walls. Through deep sweating carriageways one catches glimpses of courtyards gone to jungle.

The real wonder is not that the Cosmos is now seen as wonderful but that it is not. Despite its inconceivable vastness, it is seen not as wonderful but as something that can be explained as a dyadic system.

Unlike him I had been unable to escape into the simple complexities of science. All he had to do was solve the mystery of the universe, which may be difficult but is not as difficult as living an ordinary life...(How happy scientists are! Why didn't we become scientists, Percival? They confront problems which can be solved. We don't know what we confront. Does it have a name?)

All he had to do was solve the mystery of the universe, which may be difficult but is not as difficult as living an ordinary life.

That coincidence is God's way of staying invisible?

It's just a coincidence, I guess, but just the day before at the dry cleaner's, one of our customers, Mrs. Chudy, said to me- I forget what we were even talking about, but she said, My dear, there are no coincidences. That's just God's way of remaining anonymous. And I was like, to myself not to her, yeah? How do you know? But hey, maybe she's right.

I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand God not in the least.

I accept Time absolutely. It alone is without flaw, It alone rounds and completes all, That mystic baffling wonder.

You will hardly know who I am or what I mean

I and this mystery, here we stand.

I swear to you, there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell

Nothing can happen more beautiful than death.

Are you the new person drawn toward me?

I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand God not in the least, Nor do I understand who there can be more wonderful than myself.

I believe that much unseen is also here.

Sure as the most certain sure, plumb in the uprights, well entretied, braced in the beams, Stout as a horse, affectionate, haughty, electrical, I and this mystery here we stand.

The earth never tires, The earth is rude, silent, incomprehensible at first, Nature is rude and incomprehensible at first, Be not discouraged, keep on, there are divine things well envelop'd, I swear to you there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell.

Whoever you are holding me now in hand, Without one thing all will be useless, I give you fair warning before you attempt me further, I am not what you supposed, but far different. -from Whoever You Are Holding Me Now in Hand

And that all the things of the universe are perfect miracles, each as         profound as any.

As to me,I know of nothing but miracles.

I am he that walks with the tender and growing night, I call to the earth and sea half-held by the night. Press close bare-bosom'd night—press close magnetic nourishing night! Night of south winds—night of the large few stars! Still nodding night—mad naked summer night. — Walt Whitman, from "Song of Myself, 21," Leaves of Grass: The Deathbed Edition (BOMC, 1992)

The souls moving along ... are they invisible while the least atom of the stones is visible?