Quotes About Mystery

One of the great mysteries," he said, running his finger down my cheek, "is what makes two people right for each other.

Isabeau had a garden insider of her.

where we could see the stars. "Whoa," I said. "Isn't it beautiful?" "It's like . . . ," I said. "It's like a squid in love with the sky.

You know who you should ask about this? My pal Ray, who works with me. He could tell you all about this." Lily's dad nodded. "Except he was taken out of the office a few days ago with his hands tied behind his back and a bandanna tied as a gag on his mouth." Her father thought for a second. "Huh. He hasn't been in to work since. I wonder if he has the flu.

It is a land of Wonders! It is a land of Mystery. It is a land that Time Forgot (or chose specifically not to remember). Cut off from the civilized world for untold years, this land is called: Delaware.

In those paintings, angels clustered around the living and the dead who sit peaceably on thrones, making signs with their hands. Just outside the garden walls is regular life, there are normal streets with dogs and puddles, and merchants and money changers go about their business, and farmers are working in the fields, but inside those hidden, holy spaces, these solemn people are outside of time. They are beyond hurt, beyond wounding.

How can we ever tell what the world really looks like? On a misty day, even the hills of Elfland are gray and dismal. Look through a gemstone, and the dullest street sparkles. I have had both my eyes put out by goblins, and so, for me, the world is profoundly dark. --- Lemuel of Chartibrande, On the Elfin Sciences & Magical Arts

Lily asked, "What do you mean when you say Number One's eyes were different?" "Like a cat's eyes. You know what a cat's eyes look like?" "No," said Katie. "Because my cat is so completely lazy I've never seen her eyes actually open." "Which?" said Lily. "Trish?" "She didn't move for a week. Dad thought she was dead. We were about to bury her when someone noticed the chicken was missing from the counter.

Lucy, you're as transparent as a pane of glass, and there's not a speck of guile to be seen in you. Yet in a way you're a mystery to me.

Or perhaps it's the wickedness in him that she can't resist. There are such women.

Diane St. John had once said he looked as if he would speak in poetry, should he ever deign to speak at all.

I have walked in the blackest deeps. You cannot guess what spells I have cast, what poisons I have gathered to protect myself against you, how your power may rebound upon your head. Who knows what is in me? Will you find out?

Sorcery cannot be taught. You find it yourself, or you do not.

There was nothing in the world I wanted more than to know what he had not said.

Even here, behind the darkness of my eyelids, I cannot name the thing I hope for.

He looked different in sleep, beautiful but cold as moonlight.

I was a golden witch, who had no past at all.

What makes a witch, then? If it is not divinity?

Will you teach it to me?" "Sorcery cannot be taught. You find it yourself, or you do not.

Witchcraft transforms the world. He wanted only to join it.

En la oscuridad, dos figuras alargan los brazos a través de una penumbra espesa y penosa. Y cuando las manos se tocan, se derrama la luz de cien urnas doradas, por las que el sol parece salir a borbotones.

The world was made of mysteries, and I was only another riddle among the millions.

She brought the whole urgent universe wherever she went, portents and angry deities and a thousand looming perils.

He was like a flame himself. He glittered, drew eyes. There was a glamour to him, even on waking, with his hair tousled and his face still muddled with sleep.