Quotes About Mystery

How good to have things like this, to be worshipped again, to pretend to have a mystery!

We are all queer fish, queerer behind our faces and voices than we want any one to know or than we know ourselves.

He was her DARK FAIRYTALE and She was his TWISTED FANTASY. Together they made MAGIC.

Incessantly she puzzled him: one hour so intimate and charming, striving desperately toward an unguessed, transcendent union; the next, silent and cold, apparently unmoved by any consideration of their love or anything he could say.

Involuntarily I glanced seaward and distinguished nothing except a single green light, minute and far away, that might have been the end of a dock. When I looked once more for Gatsby, he had vanished, and I was alone again in the unquiet darkness.

There were girls who would tear you apart with their lips.

You are mysterious. I love you. You're beautiful, intelligent, and virtuous, and that's the rarest known combination.

She had caught a cold and it made her voice huskier and more charming than ever and Gatsby was overwhelmingly aware of the youth and mystery that wealth imprisons and preserves, of the freshness of many clothes and of Daisy, gleaming like silver, safe and proud above the hot struggles of the poor.

Her hair, drawn back off her ears, brushed her shoulders in such a way that the face seemed to have just emerged from it, as if this were the exact moment when she was coming from a wood into clear moonlight. The unknown yielded her up; Dick wished she had no background, that she was just a girl lost with no address save the night from which she had come.

What was it up there in the song that seemed to be calling her back inside? What would happen now in the dim, incalculable hours?

Always, after he was in bed, there were voices - indefinite, fading, enchanting - just outside his window, and before he fell asleep he would dream one of his favorites waking dreams.

Was everyone followed in the moonlight?

a negligée of robin's-egg blue laid out upon the bed diffused a faint perfume, elusive and familiar. On a chair were a pair of stockings and a street dress; an open powder box yawned upon the bureau. She had gone out.

He stretched out his arms towards the dark water in a curious way, and,far as I was from him I could have sworn he was trembling involuntarily I glanced seaward - and distinguishing nothing except a single green light, minute and faraway, that might have been the end of a dock.

She had achieved the elusiveness that gives hidden significance to the least significant remarks.

One time he killed a man who had found out that he was nephew to Von Hindenburg and second cousin to the devil

I'll tell you a family secret," she whispered enthusiastically. "It's about the butler's nose. Do you want to hear about the butler's nose?" "That's why I came over to-night.

He saw Kathleen sitting in the middle of a long white table alone.Immediately things changed. As he walked toward her the people shrank back against the walls till they were only murals; the white table lengthened and became an altar where the priestess sat alone. Vitality welled up in him and he could have stood a long time across the table from her, looking and smiling.

Oh, such a shame, such a shame. Oh, such a shame. What's it all about anyhow?" "I've wondered for a long time." "But why bring it to me?" "I guess I'm the Black Death," he said slowly. "I don't seem to bring people happiness any more.

One night they walked while the moon rose and poured a great burden of glory over the garden until it seemed fairyland with Amory and Eleanor, dim phantasmal shapes, expressing eternal beauty and curious elfin love moods. Then they turned out of the moonlight into the trellised darkness of a vine-hung pagoda, where there were scents so plaintive as to be nearly musical.

He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night.

I can't tell you just how wonderful she is. I don't want anyone to know.

They looked at each other at last, murmuring names that were a spell. Softly the two names lingered on the air, died away more slowly than other words, other names, slower than music in the mind.

The grass is full of ghost to-night.' 'The whole campus is alive with them.