Quotes About Mystery

Who are those guys?

Tennessee said it best: "Sometimes there's God so quickly.

he could never quite figure out how he happened to sire his daughter, but he knew, deep down, that it must have been some kind of wonderful mistake, the nature of which he had no intention of investigating.

I read, and, in reading, lifted the Curtains of the Impossible that blind the mind, and looked out into the unknown.

There had stood a great house in the centre of the gardens, where now was left only that fragment of ruin. This house had been empty for a great while; years before his—the ancient man's—birth. It was a place shunned by the people of the village, as it had been shunned by their fathers before them. There were many things said about it, and all were of evil. No one ever went near it, either by day or night. In the village it was a synonym of all that is unholy and dreadful.

And then, suddenly, an extraordinary question rose in my mind, whether this stupendous globe of green fire might not be the vast Central Sun—the great sun, round which our universe and countless others revolve. I felt confused. I thought of the probable end of the dead sun, and another suggestion came, dumbly—Do the dead stars make the Green Sun their grave? The idea appealed to me with no sense of grotesqueness; but rather as something both possible and probable.

To my right, which was to the North, there stood, very far away, the House of Silence, upon a low hill. And in that House were many lights, and no sound. And so had it been through an uncountable Eternity of Years.

When the cops were unable to catch a man named James "Bluebeard" Watson, who'd married eighteen women and killed at least seven of them, Harris

The perfect stillness of the night was thrilled by a more solemn silence. The darkness held a presence that was all the more felt because it was not seen. I could not any more have doubted that HE was there than that I was. Indeed, I felt myself to be, if possible, the less real of the two.

Phrases of neatness, cosiness, and comfort can never be an answer to the sphinx's riddle.

It's turtles all the way down.

Moreover, something is or seems       That touches me with mystic gleams,       Like glimpses of forgotten dreams—      Of something felt, like something here;       Of something done, I know not where;       Such as no language may declare.[228]

All our scientific and philosophic ideals are altars to unknown gods.

I have danced with the spider. I have cut a caper with the dancing mad god.

They looked like people-shaped clay in the moments before God breathed out.

You've met our guards." He gestured at the silent cylindrical guide. "The secret warriors: the binja.

Young mudlarks searching the river quag for scrap had been known to step into some discoloured patch of mud and start speaking long-dead languages, or find locusts in their hair, or fade slowly to translucency and disappear.

A dark-windowed diesel train burst out of the building, close enough to make the bus shake. It helter-skeltered downward into the earth. "Where's it going?" Zanna said. "Crossing the Odd, to some of the other abcities," Jones said. "If you're brave enough to try, you might be able to catch a train from UnLondon to Parisn't, or No York, or Helsunki, or Lost Angeles, or Sans Francisco, or Hong Gone, or Romeless…It's a terminus.

Pipes filled with brine that spied on the inhabitants of buildings watching, listening, hunting. You might obscure the attention of the Londonmancers, with the complicity of a treacherous borough, with strikebreaking hexes strong enough: but nothing could stay hidden from an inquisitive sea.

As Lichtenberg said of angels," he wrote in one of his last letters, "so I say of dust. If they, or it, ever could speak to us, why in God's name should we understand?

The gods don't owe us anything. That's not why we worship. We worship because they're gods. This is their universe, not ours. What they choose they choose and it's not ours to know why.

Be a dilettante, a sciolist, a swindler … So long as you return me to the sky, Grimnebulin.

What you offering? You scratch my soul, you know, I'll scratch yours. Tit for tat, darling. So what you been in? We all like a bit of theology here, love, no need to be shy." He licked his lips. "Give us an afterlife, go on.

He didn't know what if anything it was his mother got from his father's company.