Quotes About Mystery

Having the rug pulled from under one, and flying magic carpets -- cousin events?

If there is one thing the psychic taught me, it's that people and events are rarely who and what we think they are. They are more meaningful, more worth our attention-part of some finely choreographed, eternal dance that we would be wise to bow down before in gratitude and humility.

I accept that life is uncertain--that the goal is not to become more certain about anything but to relax more into the mystery of not knowing what will come next. And then, miracle of miracles, out there in the deep and uncertain water, I come into a peaceful knowing--a faithful wisdom that surpasses control and certainty.

Mas a vida tinha lá seus mistérios e suas surpresas: nenhum de nós naquela casa voltaria a ser o mesmo de antes, nem os risos nunca mais soariam tão leves e límpidos, nunca mais aquelas vozes todas reunidas na mesma sala, nunca mais.

'Tis a strange mystery, the power of words! Life is in them, and death. A word can send The crimson colour hurrying to the cheek. Hurrying with many meanings; or can turn The current cold and deadly to the heart. Anger and fear are in them; grief and joy Are on their sound; yet slight, impalpable:-- A word is but a breath of passing air.

Life has one vast stern likeness in its gloom

Nothing circulates so rapidly as a secret.

Truth is like the philosopher's stone, a thing not to be discovered.

Are you kidding? That guy was a mystery wrapped in an enigma and crudely stapled to a ticking fucking time bomb. He was either going to hit somebody or start a blog.

She was the most beautiful, terrible thing he'd ever seen, like an acetylene flame, an incandescent filament, a fallen star right in front of him.

The thick plottens.

A big silvery janitor. Penny, this can't be how the universe works." "In the Order we call it 'inverse profundity.' We've observed it in any number of cases. The deeper you go into the cosmic mysteries, the less interesting everything gets.

You cannot study magic. You cannot learn it. You must ingest it. Digest it. You must merge with it. And it with you.

I have a hard time believing that the history of the universe is being written by a talking rabbit," Eliot said. "Though that would explain a lot.

That guy was a mystery wrapped in an enigma and crudely stapled to a ticking fucking time bomb. He was either going to hit somebody or start a blog.

It's turtles all the way down.

That guy was a mystery wrapped in an enigma and crudely stapled to a ticking fucking time bomb. He was either going to hit somebody or start a blog. To tell you the truth I'm kind of glad he hit you.

With maaaaaaaaaagic!

That was magic for you, right? The thing about magic, the real kind: it didn't make excuses, and it was never funny.

He was finally on the other side, down the rabbit hole, through the looking glass. He was going to sign the papers and he was going to be a motherfucking magician.

It never failed to astonish him, then or ever, how much of the world around him was mysterious and hidden from view.

He was unexpectedly happy, though he instinctively kept it a secret.

Quentin did a magic trick. Nobody noticed.

That's how you roll when you're a secret teenage magician