Quotes About Mystery

Our inner selves exist. They're unique, and they're meaningful and mysterious, even if they are secret sometimes even from ourselves.

The sincere reaction to making meaningful art is often speechlessness. We make art about what we cannot understand through any other method. The finished product is like a pearl, complete and beautiful, but mute about itself. The writer has given us this piece of his interior and there is frequently no explanation, nothing to be said about it. Often, the writer himself has very little idea of what he has created.

The man was still there. Suddenly forgetting about the snow on the street, he picked up his pace. Ahead was a long, straight, silvery-white road illuminated by the cold glare of street lamps; behind, a detective on a bicycle.

There was something different about her, Jake had to admit. She had a beautiful face, a beautiful body, but also a distance in her such as he had never met in a woman. Certain mountains were that way, like the Bighorns .The air around them was so clear you could ride toward them for days without seeming to get any closer. And yet, if you kept riding, you would get to the mountains.

perhaps as he grew older he would learn to trust mysteries and not fear them.

She had a beautiful face, a beautiful body, but also a distance in her such as he had never met a woman.

That things were mysterious did not make them less valuable.

You know more than you say and I say more than I know. That means we're a perfect match, as long as we don't hang around one another more than an hour at a stretch.

It was something, what must go through men's mind where women were concerned, to cause them to behave so strangely.

There was something different about her, Jake had to admit. She had a beautiful face, a beautiful body, but also a distance in her such as he had never met in a woman. Certain mountains were that way, like the Bighorns. The air around them was so clear you could ride toward them for days without seeming to get any closer. And yet, if you kept riding, you would get to the mountains. He was not so sure he would ever get to Lorie. Even when she took him, there was a distance between them.

One little shot during a card game in Arkansas had started things happening—things he couldn't see the end of.

The air smelled of ozone and puppeteers.

Her eyes glowed. She spoke as if confiding a secret. Have you noticed the moonlight?

widdershins

Her blue eyes capture the distance. -Sonya Cheuse

Long past the moment when her neck begins to stiffen and ache, she continues to stare into the darkness, even though none of the human secrets she needs to know are to be found in the stars but rather closer to the earth her boots stand upon.

Deep within, every human being hoards a pitch-black riddle. The darkness of the iris is nothing other than the starless night, the darkness deep in the eye is nothing other than the darkness of the universe.

Den lyckliga människan är den gåtfullaste

Nel profondo di ogni essere umano c'è un enigma nero come la notte. Lo scuro della pupilla altro non è che quella notte priva di stelle, lo scuro giù nel profondo dell'occhio altro non è che il buio stesso dell'universo. Solo come mistero l'uomo assume grandezza e chiarezza sufficienti. [...]

So . . . with several key suspects on the line, she had a lot to think about. But first, there was a tea party that needed hosting.

She gets to know two pieces of information. The best thing. And the worst. The rest? People think it makes them closer to know everything, but I'm not sure it's fair.

I unfold the paper. Owen's note is short. One line, its own puzzle. Protect her.

Never, never, never could one conceive what love is beforehand, never. —D. H. Lawrence, after meeting his future wife

Presenciar o mistério da vida era suficientemente impressionante para evitar pensar na morte, em qualquer uma das suas manifestações: o abandono, a perda, o desaparecimento. Não, a única coisa que o seu espírito e o seu coração desejavam era festejar a vida.