Quotes About Mystery

Why?" Rachel said (the eternal why, as she'd come to think of it). "Was he that bad?" "I never heard he was bad," Ann Marie said with a minor slur and a sad grimace. She looked out through the screen at the stone-colored mist in the gray hills and spoke with a firm finality. "Honey, I only heard that he'd moved on.

he would never, ever, get in the ocean again.... He could feel the age of it, more ancient than gods and prouder of its body count.

LA LEGGE DEL 4 IO SONO 47 LORO ERANO 80 +VOI SIETE 3 NOI SIAMO 4 MA CHI È 67?

Pazzesco. -A cosa si riferisce? -Al luogo in cui è finita. Secondo la mia opinione. -Be', certo. Almeno questo credo che possiamo prenderlo come un dato di fatto.

Did God dictate every single word [in Torah]? I don't know!

We are all, as ever, the playthings of the Gods, and none of us can say what our tomorrows may bring;

Lizards frolicked in the flames of a bonfire; two lonely fish swam toward each other under the sea; a lion devoured the sun. An eagle flying high in the air was incongruously chained to a toad crawling on the ground. A wolf and dog battled in the middle of a deserted town. A slithering serpent entwined itself around a female corpse lying in an open grave. Another serpent lay nailed to a cross, while other serpents and dragons chased their own tails in never ending circles.

In our haste to modernize under the banner of science, we seem to have gone too far in casting out all mystery and magic from our world.

The Word says God put ever star in the heavens and even give ever one of em a name. If one of em was gon' fall out the sky, that was up to Him, too. Maybe we can't see where it's gon' wind up, but He can. That's when I knew that even though it didn't make no sense to me, God had put Miss Debbie in my life like a bright star, and God knew where she was gon' wind up. And I found out that sometimes we just have to accept the things we don't understand.

You want to hear my history? Ask the sea.

I would love to know who killed my father. So would my brother." Her next words stunned me and left me breathless. "We want to forgive them. We want to forgive, but we don't know who to forgive.

Era ella como un bosque, como la oscura red de las ramas del roble, con un susurro inaudible de miles de yemas brotando. Y mientras tanto los pájaros del deseo dormían en la vasta maraña del laberinto de su cuerpo.

The moment feels laden with mystery and tension, as if for one second the world has agreed to pay attention to time itself.

Sometimes,' he whispered at last, 'sometimes, I dream I am singing, and I wake from it with my throat aching.' He couldn't see her face, or the tears that prickled at the corners of her eyes. 'What do you sing?' she whispered back. She heard the shush of the linen pillow as he shook his head. 'No song I've ever heard, or know,' he said softly. 'But I know I'm singing it for you.

He was dead. However, his nose throbbed painfully, which he thought odd in the circumstances.

Ma chère, I serve a man who multiplied the loaves and fishes"—he smiled, nodding at the pool, where the swirls of the carps' feeding were still subsiding—"who healed the sick and raised the dead. Shall I be astonished that the master of eternity has brought a young woman through the stones of the earth to do His will?" Well, I reflected, it was better than being denounced as the whore of Babylon.

What a mystery blood was -- how did a tiny gesture, a tome of voice, endure through generations like the harder verities of flesh? He had seen it again and again, watching his nieces and nephews grow, and accepted without thought the ehoes of parent and grandparent that appeared for brief moments. the shadow of a face looking back through the years -- that vanished again into the face that was now.

If one day, a bhailach...ye should meet a verra large mouse named Michael-ye'll tell him your grandsire sends his regards.

Many of the lost will be found, eventually, dead or alive. Disappearances, after all, have explanations.

People disappear all the time. Ask any policeman. Better yet, ask a journalist. Disappearances are bread-and-butter to journalists.

What is it about ye, Sassenach, I wonder?" he said conversationally, eyes still fixed on Myers. "What is what about me?" He turned then, and gave me a narrow eye. "What it is that makes every man ye meet want to take off his breeks within five minutes of meetin' ye." "Well, if you don't know, my dear," I said, "no one does.

I could feel the hair rising on my forearms, as though with cold, and rubbed them uneasily. Two hundred years. From 1945 to 1743; yes, near enough. And women who traveled through the rocks. Was it always women? I wondered suddenly.

A general cry of What book? What book? Let us see this famous book!

This is the thin time, when the beloved dead draw near. The world turns inward, and the chilling air grows thick with dreams and mystery.