Quotes About Mystery

Some topics seem to be nothing but philosophical circles designed to lure the unsuspecting ant to its death.

the theorem of incompleteness . . . [shows] there is nothing on this level of existence that can fully explain this level of existence.

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

People who look for symbolic meaning fail to grasp the inherent poetry and mystery of the images.

All I know is a door into the dark

Poetry is the key to the hieroglyphics of nature.

The poem is lonely. It is lonely and en route. Its author stays with it. Does this very fact not place the poem already here, at its inception, in the encounter, in the mystery of encounter?

Though I play at the edges of knowing, truly I know our part is not knowing, but looking, and touching, and loving

Poets are mysterious, but a poet when all is said is not much more mysterious than a banker.

If our hearts are ready for anything, we are touched by the beauty and poetry and mystery that fill our world.

I love the autumn for its sense of melancholy seems to strike my need for sadness. There is poetry in the dying of the year and mystery as well.

That's not a run in your stocking, it's a hand on your leg.

What can be explained is not poetry.

The poet is the priest of the invisible.

I can't even make up a rhyme about an umbrella, let alone death and life and eternal peace.

Eroticism cannot be entirely revealed without poetry.

Poetry is the dark side of the moon.

There is a majesty and mystery in nature, take her as you will. The essence of poetry comes breathing to a mind that feels from every province of her empire.

It is what man does not know of God Composes the visible poem of the world.

Love, supreme power of the heart, mysterious enthusiasm that encloses in itself all poetry, all heroism, all religion!

The wind is the moon's imagination wandering.

Poetry arrived in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where it came from, from winter or a river. I don't know how or when.

And all poets love dust and mist because all the last answers. Go running back to dust and mist.

This poetry. I never know what I'm going to say.