Quotes About Mystery

Why should she give her bounty to the dead? What is divinity if it can come Only in silent shadows and in dreams?

It is the unknown that excites the ardor of scholars, who, in the known alone, would shrivel up with boredom.

She worked the dead bolt first. She slid a wrench into the keyhole, twisted it to keep tension, then used the pick to rake the inside of the cylinder. When she felt the pins slip, she turned the wrench farther. The lock clicked open. The knob was easier. When she was done, she shut the penlight off, opened the door, felt it catch against a chain. She

The roundness of life's design may be a sign that there is a presence beyond ourselves.

I tried to give blood the other day. The blood bank refused to take it, though. Because I wouldn't tell them where I got it from.

At wuntz? What HE do? What HE do? Who do? Wuntz do hoo doo? How do he do hoo doo? Once do who do? What? What!? To wit, WHAT.

I say to mankind, Be not curious about God. For I, who am curious about each, am not curious about God - I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand God not in the least.

And I call to mankind, Be not curious about God, For I, who am curious about each, am not curious about God, No array of terms can say how much I am at peace about God, and about death. I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand God not in the least...

We must not let daylight in upon the magic.

[The British monarchy:] Its mystery is its life. We must not let in daylight upon magic. We must not bring the Queen into the combat of politics, or she will cease to be reverenced by all combatants.

We see but one aspect of our neighbor, as we see but one side of the moon; in either case there is also a dark half, which is unknown to us. We all come down to dinner, but each has a room to himself.

The stars refuse to come closer the way they have other nights. He squints harder. They just shimmer and float farther away.

With two books open on my lap, one in my hand, two on the floor, I'm surrounded by imperfect translations: a gathering chaos; something mysteriously formed; without beginning, without end; formless and perfect.

The alternative to the free market consumer culture is a set of covenants that supports neighborly disciplines, rather than market disciplines, as a producer of culture. These non-market disciplines have to do with the common good and abundance as opposed to self-interest and scarcity. This neighborly culture is held together by its depth of relatedness, its capacity to hold mystery, its willingness to stretch time and endure silence.

Grief is an element of aliveness and the answer to the denial the market demands of us. It is an index of our humanity. It is proof of the presence of our relatedness to each other. It is a communal practice that recognizes that choosing the wilderness of vulnerability, mystery, and anxiety was a good and life-affirming choice.

Slowly, silently, now the moonWalks the night in her silver shoon.

"Is there anybody there?" said the Traveler,Knocking on the moonlit door;And his horse in the silence champed the grassesOf the forest's ferny floor.

It's a very odd thing—As odd as can be—That whatever Miss T. eatsTurns into Miss T.

What a haunting, inescapable riddle life was.

Very old are the woods; And the buds that break Out of the brier's boughs, When March winds wake, So old with their beauty are-- Oh, no man knows Through what wild centuries Roves back the rose.

It was this mystery, bereft now of all fear, and this beauty together that made life the endless, changing and yet changeless, thing it was. And yet mystery and loveliness alike were really only appreciable with one's legs, as it were, dangling down over into the grave.

He who begets something which is alive must dive down into the primeval depths in which the forces of life dwell. And when he rises to the surface, there is a gleam of madness in his eyes because in those depths lives cheek by jowl with life. The primal mystery is itself mad - the matrix of the duality and the unity of disunity.

I think different religions are different doors to the same house. Sometimes I think the house exists, and sometimes I don't. It's the great mystery.

That the movements of God's grace must always be accepted and understood in virtue of the life of faith, because ultimately the truth of every mysterious action of his grace is discerned in the light of faith rather than by the powers of reason or of intellect.