Quotes About Mystery

a kind of wonder at the secret chamber at the center of every human heart whose contents are unguessable from the outside.

In this place—one can never see from one end of a street to the other, let alone men's hearts.

Mystery: Everything felt better before you got there than when you actually got there. When you actually got there, you didn't quite have the energy to be there.

In religion I do not see the mystery of the Incarnation, but the mystery of the social order. It associates with Heaven an idea of equality that keeps rich men from being massacred by the poor…Society is impossible without inequality, inequality intolerable without a code of morality, and a code of morality unacceptable without religion.

No one knows how it is that with one glance a boy can break through into a girl's heart.

Exista lucruri care nu se scriu niciodata!

Having soon discovered to be great, I must appear so, and therefore studiously avoided mixing in society, and wrapped myself in mystery, devoting my time to fasting and prayer.

Scientists get annoyed at the hackneyed notion that their pursuit of knowledge diminishes the mystery or art or "holiness" of life.

Open the ovoid mother and find the ovoid girl; open the child and the next egg grins up its invitation to crack it. You can never tell a priori how many iterations await you; you hope they continue forever. My daughter, my matryoshka.

For, through the twilight sounds of crickets and sighing trees, a faint, surprising wisp of music came floating to them and all three turned toward it, toward the wood.

Lighting a candle helps create a sense of magic.

I think ghostliness is a good quality.

What else could have happened? Car wouldn't start? House caught on fire? Escaped convict climbed through his bedroom window and tied him with duct tape? Poison eggnog? Or maybe I just didn't matter to him.

Before he sat down, my internal heat-seekers sensed what was coming my way:deep blue eyes that melted girls like Velveeta in a microwave.

I believe that there is luminosity hiding in the shadow of the mundane. And things that hover at the periphery of our vision. If that's magic, then I believe in it.

But it is not theology that saves us. Jesus holds that place. Our theology continues to be the way we express our best thoughts about Jesus but Jesus is not bound by our words. He always transcends them. He lives beyond them, in a realm of meaning we can hardly comprehend. So we use these units of thought that we call words to explain, describe, and try to capture the mystery of Jesus. However, our words fail us—and they always will.

There are secrets behind everything that God creates.

I'm constantly pitching one episode where we see life through Castle's eyes. I think Castle's just a little off as far as his perception goes. A very, very clever man, but I want to see the world as Castle sees it - kind of a rose-colored glasses, all the women find him irresistible, all the guys find him super cool and do whatever he says.

'Castle' is a guy living in a fantasy world. He's in his imagination, writing these stories of murder.

Don't assume that what we currently think is out there is the full story. Go after the dark matter, in whatever field you choose to explore.

No author, without a trial, can conceive of the difficulty of writing a romance about a country where there is no shadow, no antiquity, no mystery, no picturesque and gloomy wrong, nor anything but a commonplace prosperity, in broad and simple daylight, as is happily the case with my dear native land.

"Never, never!" whispered she. "What we did had a consecration of its own."

Hers to be his to be hers ad infinitum, smoke smudging the bell of her throat. To what had been or might've been her thoughts migrated, cloth wall he pressed his hand against, he of the indelicate embrace.

They sat cross-legged on the floor, short of lotus, lay back between table and couch. In the upset zone known as not yet there they reconvened, she unexpected harmony's ghost, another she recondite solace's regret. . . They sat on the floor sipping herb as we looked on, incense an androgyne funk, flesh crevice, book of anabatic recess