Quotes About Mystery

I passed a little further on and heard a peacock say: Who made the grass and made the worms and made my feathers gay, He is a monstrous peacock, and He waveth all the night His languid tail above us, lit with myriad spots of light.

Be secret and exult Because of all things known That is most difficult

The Magi Now as at all times I can see in the mind's eye, In their stiff, painted clothes, the pale unsatisfied ones Appear and disappear in the blue depths of the sky With all their ancient faces like rain-beaten stones, And all their helms of silver hovering side by side, And all their eyes still fixed, hoping to find once more, Being by Calvary's turbulence unsatisfied, The uncontrollable mystery on the bestial floor.

What's left to sigh for, Strange night has come

And no more turn aside and brood Upon love's bitter mystery; For Fergus rules the brazen cars, And rules the shadows of the wood, And the white breast of the dim sea And all disheveled wandering stars.

ANASHUYA Vijaya, swear to love her never more, VIJAYA Ay, ay. ANASHUYA Swear by the parents of the gods, Dread oath, who dwell on sacred Himalay, On the far Golden Peak; enormous shapes, Who still were old when the great sea was young On their vast faces mystery and dreams; Their hair along the mountains rolled and filled From year to year by the unnumbered nests Of aweless birds, and round their stirless feet The joyous flocks of deer and antelope, Who never hear the unforgiving hound. Swear!

O blessed and happy he, who knowing the mysteries of the gods, sanctifies his life, and purifies his soul, celebrating orgies in the mountains with holy purifications.—Euripides.

and I heard a thing coming flop-flop up the stairs like an eel, and squealing. It went to all the doors. It could not get in where I was. I would have sent it through the universe like a flash of fire. There

It was at the moment of the fall of day when every man may pass as handsome and every woman as comely.

When I was growing up, my mother taught me the language of birds; and when I got married, I used to be listening to their conversation; and I would be laughing; and my wife would be asking what was the reason of my laughing, but I did not like to tell her

The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.

What can be explained is not poetry.

Like love we don't know where or why Like love we cant compel or fly Like Love we often weep Like Love we seldom keep

We are lived by powers we pretend to understand.

We cannot be deaf to the question: 'Do I love this world so well that I have to know how it ends?

O plunge your hands in water, Plunge them in up to the wrist; Stare, stare in the basin And wonder what you've missed

A critter reveals his true self at midnight.

Sometimes I think I am going mad. I live for days in the mystery and tears of things so that the commonest object, the most familiar face- even my own- become ghostly, unreal, enigmatic. I get into an attitude of almost total scepticism, nescience, solipsism, in a world of dumb, sphinx-like things that cannot explain themselves. The discovery of how I am situated- a sentient being on a globe in space overshadows me. I wish I were just nothing.

the dead are not separate from the living each has one foot in the unknown and cannot speak for the other

As though it had always been forbidden to remember each of us grew up knowing nothing about the beginning

apparently we believe in the words and through them but we long beyond them for what is unseen what remains out of reach what is kept covered

this is the white wind that you cannot believe here it is and the owl sails out to see whose turn it is tonight to be changed

we know from the beginning that the darkness is beyond us there is no explaining the dark it is only the light that we keep feeling a need to account for

from what we cannot hold the stars are made