Quotes About Mystery

There's something I don't trust about the way she exploded and then came back from the dead like that.

A ghost sighting is usually nothing more than your brain trying to put a familiar face on something that does not have a face at all.

Inside they'd have found the aforementioned shotgun (a custom-made triple-barrel sawed-off), two hundred shells, Dave's blood-splattered chainsaw, the green mystery box taken from Dave's shed, a bag of Dave's clothes, a bottle of Grey Goose, a bad black velvet painting of Jesus and a fucking flamethrower.

Dark matter makes up 99.99 percent of the universe, and they don't know what it is. Well I know. It's apathy.

What followed had been … frantic. The underwear actually wound up with a little rip in them. She had found one of his animal buttons.

TACO STORM? • FAKE ALIEN INVASION? NUCLEAR BOMB? • ECHO HACKS AND/OR SEDUCES SOMETHING • DEFACE THE FIRE AND ICE (DONGS?) • CATS CATS CATS • GET MOLECH BACK HERE (FART RAY?) • WILL WORKS HIS MAGIC (LIKE IN "THE RINGMASTER")

Time is the thing that everyone knows intimately – until you ask them to tell you about It.

It is both mysterious and miraculous that roughly the same intelligence necessary to flake a barbed spearpoint is sufficient to discover the theorems of mathematics. In a different universe, it might have been otherwise. And so human beings would have been spared the tragedy of existing half as ape and half as god.

Your story should open as a door to the reader, where the action has already begun and they have to run to keep up.

He thought again of the watch in the window. It had twelve black numbers on its moon face and there was magic to that. For these were numbers that were not really numbers at all but letters like in words. He shivered at the possibilities of such untold magic.

Slater Didja ever look at a dollar bill man There's some spooky shit goin' on there. And it's green too.

To be and not to be, that is the quantum question

Unrequited love is quantum romance

Those who fail to understand mystery are doomed to crack it

Life's mysterious, strange, and full of wonders- and only a fool withdraws from it willingly and lets it pass him by.

No one's life should be rooted in fear. We are born for wonder, for joy, for hope, for love, to marvel at the mystery of existence, to be ravished by the beauty of the world, to seek truth and meaning, to acquire wisdom, and by our treatment of others to brighten the corner where we are.

Dad's final will was written and signed eleven days before he died. The original will it replaced disappeared and has never been found....I can't imagine him wanting to make such radical changes a few days before he died. I don't believe for one minute that he truly understood what was going on.

To say that I met Nicholas Brisbane over my husband's dead body is not entirely accurate. Edward, it should be noted, was still twitching upon the floor.

Fate is by far the greatest mystery of all.

I had a vision of you, the first time I stepped into Grey House, the night Edward died. That was why I kept staring at you while he lay on the bed, convulsing between us. I had seen you standing before me, your hand in mine. I could not hear what was said between us, but there was a sense of belonging to you, as if I had always known you somehow, and you had been waiting for me. It came as rather a nasty shock to realise you were already married.

Brisbane put one in mind of wolves and lithe jungle cats, while Edward conjured images of seraphim and slim young saints. It required an entirely different aesthetic altogether to appreciate Brisbane, one that I lacked. Entirely.

I sat down and put my fingertips to my temples, rubbing hard. "We have one fallen tree, one destroyed Rookery, one delusional butler and no good brandy. Is that what you are telling me?" "And the cook's down with piles and more than half the staff are suffering from catarrh," she added maliciously. I looked to Brisbane, who was smiling broadly. "God bless us, everyone," he said, spreading his arms wide.

I slammed the door in her face and applied my bloody shoe to the lurkers in the bathtub,

Even now you do not know what to make of me and I will not own what I am. I want you to think of me when you eave this place and wonder whether I am merely a mortal or something beyond. A better man would release you and want you to love another. I am no better man. I am selfish and flawed and I have nothing to offer you that is not broken or imperfect including myself, and so I offer you nothing but I love you until the day I die and no man will love you more.