Quotes About Mystery

Seventy-five thousand?

He had learned something already in the course of his journey. If you carried a closed wooden box, people want to know what is in it.

It is enough to know that not to know is enough. It is enough not to know.

That is the power of the book. Immortality, for better, or for worse. It is majestic, in its way, this immortality. And power. Once a story is started, once a lie is told, it is very difficult to un-tell it . . .

Slowly he had learned that there is a world beneath the visible one, and that people, some people at least, have a different life, that they carry inside them.

along a long narrow passageway, which opened into a hall, and they saw

Any religion is a shadow of God. But the shadows of God are not God.

If God was small enough to understand, I reckon He wouldn't be big enough to worship.

fear and wonder makes gods.

With finger on her solemn lip, Night hushed the shadowy earth.

She sat still, trying to hush her secret heart.

It's so dark - as if all the lights are just there to make the other places seem darker.

Not that it will be easy for you," Miryam continued. "But for the moment - look - it's a wonderful, mysterious thing to be a girl." And, looking at her reflection, Laura thought this might be true.

My child, I don't know where people go when they die, but I know where they stay.

Ne vem, h?erka moja, kam gredo ljudje, ki umrejo, vem le, kje ostanejo.

A ssure you, the more I travel through time, the more I witness, the more I realize that there are things that are both strange and wonderful, far beyond human comprehension.

The two officers seemed more puzzled by Emily's costume than by the presence of a corpse in the Mercedes. Perhaps corpses were more regular.

God," he said, "is a circle whose center is everywhere and whose circumference is nowhere.

Woman magic. A quality that could bring great joy or havoc or both in equal measure.

A mage's soul is forged in the crucible of the magic

The old life is gone, my days are new, but time is still a mystery of wishes, and this sad, confusing fragrance. " —Rosa

he whispers, his eyes going velvet.

Hose-pipe – car exhaust – locked room – all that, not original,' he blurted out at last. 'Plagiarism. All in a book.' 'In

Margery Allingham