Quotes About Mystery

Whence but from heaven, could men unskilled in arts, In several ages born, in several parts, Weave such agreeing truths? Or how, or why, Should all conspire to cheat us with a lie?

The naked woman's body is a portion of eternity too great for the eye of man.

He woos, he confronts, he delivers, he heals, he shoots straight, and then he uses intrigue. He lives out before them the most compelling view of God, shows them an incredibly attractive holiness while shattering the religious glaze. But still, he lets them walk away if they choose.

What sort of tale have I fallen into? is a question that would help us all a great deal if we wondered it for ourselves.

man's heart reflects the man . . . Proverbs 27:19 However, the spiritual world cannot be made suburban. It is always frontier, and we who live in it must accept and even rejoice that it remains untamed. Howard Macey

Beautiful things, as Matisse shows, always carry greetings from other worlds within them.

the outer life we live from ought (I ought to do this) rather than from desire (I want to do this) and management substitutes for mystery.

explored." "It is the glory of God to conceal a matter," says the book

Every man is a mystery to himself. And then we die, unsolved.

What are you, where did you come from, and whither are you bound?"— the question which from Homer's days has been put to the wayfarer in strange lands — is likewise the all-absorbing question which man is ever asking of the universe of which he is himself so tiny yet so wondrous a part.

We lay on the ground and kissed. Perhaps you smile. That we only lay on the ground and kissed. You young people can lend your bodies now, play with them, give them as we could not. But remember that you have paid a price: that of a world rich in mystery and delicate emotion. It is not only species of animal that die out. But whole species of feeling. And if you are wise you will never pity the past for what it did not know. But pity yourself for what it did.

If there is a God he's a great loathsome spider in the darkness.

That's the trouble with provincial life. Everyone knows everyone and there is no mystery. No romance.

I needed a new mystery.

Love is the mistery between two people, not the identity. We were at the opposite poles of humanity. Lily was humanity bound to duty, unable to choose, suffering, at the mercy of social ideals. Humanity both crucified and marching towards the cross. And I was free, I was Peter three times to renounce -- determined to survive, whatever the cost.

if Greece were a woman so sensually provocative that I must fall physically and desperately in love with her, and at the same time so calmly aristocratic that I should never be able to approach her.

Think what it would be like if you got back to your island and there was no old man, no girl any more. No mysterious fun and games. The whole place locked up forever.

Because I don't understand Him. Why He is, who He is, or how He is. And Maurice tells me I am quite intelligent. I think God must be very intelligent to be so much more intelligent than I am. To give me no clues. No certainties. No sights. No reasons. No motives.

Beware of the waiting room. He closed the door at once, as if he had rehearsed that moment. I opened it quickly, and leaned out to call after him, The what? He turned, but only to give a sharp wave, the Trafalgar Square crowd swallowed him up. I couldn't get the smile on his face out of my mind, it secreted an omission. Something he'd saved up, a mysterious last word. Waiting room. Waiting room. Waiting room. It went round in my head all that evening.

Puterea femeii! Nu m-am simÈ›it niciodat? atât de plin? de puteri misterioase. B?rbaÈ›ii sunt doar o glum?. Suntem atât de pl?pânde fizic, atât de neajutorate în faÈ›a realit??ii. Chiar È™i în ziua de azi. Dar suntem mai puternice decât ei. Noi putem îndura cruzimea lor. Ei n-o pot îndura pe a noastr?.

Acea prim? întâlnire, acel misterios, cum s? spun, mesaj al luminii ei adresat umbrei mele m-a obsedat s?pt?mâni în È™ir.

La sfârÈ™it, am t?cut amândoi. Trebuie s? fi înÈ›eles. Dragostea este misterul între doi oameni, nu asem?narea dintre ei.

Of course I looked sad. But I didn't really feel sad. Or it wasn't a sadness that hurt, not an all-through one. I rather enjoyed it. Beastly, but I did. I sang on the way home. The romance, the mystery of it. Living.

Cómo es posible que me ame como dice? ¿Cómo puede amarse a una persona a quien no se conoce?