Quotes About Mystery

No one explains this to you, he thought. That there are so many things without solution.

There will be no magic, whatsoever. Magic is either a poverty-stricken necessity or a wealthy fantasy. We are in neither of those straits, and what cannot be explained will be left unknown.

It was as though the edges of things were where the greater part might be hidden - where he could find more.

She would allow her hair to be loose, and she then would appear to me out of the corner of my eye as some blinding Valkyrie, some effulgent flood of a thing, beauty without no boundaries, burning at the edges of itself.

At all times all parts of the world are eternally fascinating.

She dreams, she smiles and coos and does all these things, but she hasn't seen enough of the world yet to understand any of that stuff. So still feel like she's connected to the other world, or something. There's no other way to explain it. It's a miracle.

Galen stowed the goblets behind a curtain and walked up to twitch the hem of Rose's shawl. She gasped and looked around. "Hello," Galen said in a low voice. "Would you like to dance?" "So you're Pansy's good spirit?" "I am." "Your voice sounds familiar." Her eyes sparkled. "Could you pretend to snore, so that I could make sure?

Kestilan?" There was that name again. Oliver fought down an irrational surge of jealousy for this mysterious being who took up so much of Petunia's attention.

Pogue seemed to be magically able to put half a sandwich into his mouth at once, without looking greedy or having anything fall out, and managed to wink at Celie at the same time.

The Golden Griffin!

Jessica Day George

Jessica Fletcher

author Agatha Christie was knowledgeable

We don't have many murders here in Cabot Cove.

The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible. —OSCAR WILDE

Mom, I have to go. I think this Matt character is here." "Are you sure it's him?" Julie peered into the car as the window lowered. "I see a maniacal-looking guy with brightly-colored candy in one hand, and he's waving a sickle in the other. Oh! He's beckoning me to the car. This must be my ride.

There will be something, anguish or elation, that is peculiar to this day alone. I rise from sleep and say: Hail to the morning! Come down to me, my beautiful unknown.

This is not what death should be. Death, the reason for religion, the subject of great literature, the certainty we spend our lives warding off, the giant mystery that looms over everything we do, death should be spectacular, not pity-inducing, a bang and not a whimper. A huge ball of fire, a shower of sparks, a final charge into the ranks of your enemies, a terrific explosion, a backward dive into the fiery pit. Not. . .this.

The cruelty itself is motivated by something deeper: the wish to know the secret of things and of life.

I felt the first soft glow of intoxication that makes the blood warmer and spreads an illusion of adventure over uncertainty.

My hands grow cold and my flesh creeps; and yet the night is warm. Only the mist is cold, this mysterious mist that trails over the dead and sucks from them their last, creeping life. By morning they will be pale and green and their blood congealed and black.

We stroll on. Late in the evening we run into Willy and set off together for the barracks. En route Willy suddenly springs to one side and I crouch down likewise. The unmistakable howl of a shell coming—then we look round mystified and laugh. It was merely the screech of an electric tram.

Postoji jedna tajna koja se ne zna unapred: uvek se dobija više nego što se daje - ali kad bi se to znalo unapred, ne bi se dobilo ništa.

Her mouth speaks words I do not understand. Nor do I fully understand her eyes; they seem to say more than we anticipated when we came here.