Quotes About Mystery

Into this life of cruel wonder sent, Without a word to tell us what it meant, Sent back again without a reason why - Birth, life, and death - 'twas all astonishment.

And do you think that unto such as you, A maggot-minded, starved, fanatic crew, God gave the Secret, and denied it me? - Well, well, what matters it! believe that too.

O, the love of woman is a glorious thing, and strange in its ways of work.

The red hands had stopped at four-twenty-seven. He wondered what day they had stopped. As he descended the stairs with his armful of books, he wondered at just what moment the clock stopped. Had it been morning or night? Was it raining or shining? Was anyone there when it stopped?

The strength of the vampire is that no one will believe in him." Thank you, Dr. Van Helsing, he thought, putting down his copy of Dracula.

They said he used to cackle and bark in his crib after dark. They said he walked at two months and sat staring at the moon whenever it shone. Those were things that people said. His parents were always worried about him. An only child, they noticed his flaws quickly. They thought he was blind until the doctor told them it was just a vacuous stare.

Oh, they knew it was something, but it couldn't be that -- not that. That was imagination, that was superstition, there was no such thing as that. And before science had caught up with the legend, the legend had swallowed science and everything.

supuesto umbral de la conciencia. Ahí es donde radica la fascinación

he went to clean up the library with a fellow janitor; but the moment he entered the huge room, he gasped, put his heads to his temples and fell down on one knee, gasping, "My head! My head!

Fame is a funny thing, like a secret, both are hard to keep.

But just for a moment they were caught in the grip of this place. They felt the weight of its history, and mystery. So did I. The paper was loose and peeling on the walls. I wondered how many layers you'd have to scrape away until you came to the time when these old people were young. If they ever were. I wondered how quiet you'd have to be to hear the voices of those times.

I was too young to know how much a dangerous man interests a good woman.

A leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars.

They share a lot, astronomy and childhood. Both are voyages across huge distances. Both search for facts beyond their grasp. Both theorize wildly and let possibilities multiply without limits. Both are humbled every few weeks. Both operate out of ignorance. Both are mystified by time. Both are forever starting out.

Life is something we need to stop correcting. My boy was a pocket universe I could never hope to fathom. Every one of us is an experiment, and we don't even know what the experiment is testing.

The thing about music was that you never knew the shape of anyone's desire.

Was tonality out there – God-given? Or were those magic ratios, like everything human, makeshift rules to be broken on the way to a more merciless freedom?

There was a planet that couldn't figure out where everyone was. It died of loneliness. That happened billions of times in our galaxy alone.

How would we ever know aliens? We can't even know birds.

The moon is a blazing telephone that anyone on Earth might call him on, simply by looking up and seeing what he sees.

He has always been alien to her, a man of procedures where there should be passions. Now she wonders if he might have died, once, too.

No strangeness stranger than the strangeness of living things.

There was a planet that couldn't figure out where everyone was. It died of loneliness. That happened billions of times in our galaxy alone.

The understory fills up with tracks like longhand accusations scribbled on the snow.