Quotes About Mystery

There was an old woman Who lived under the hill And if she's not gone She lives there still.

What if it were true. It could not be: but what if it were. Strange but true. A sudden partisanship arose within Pierce's heart, a longing so deep and simple that he could not even be puzzled by it: a longing indistinguishable from grief, that the story ought to be true, and could not be.

Suppose a branch of our old family tree—a branch that seemed doomed to wither—had in fact not died out but survived, survived by learning arts just as new to the world but utterly different from the tool-making and fire-building of its grosser cousins, us. Suppose that instead they had learned concealment, smallification, disappearance, and some way to blind the eyes of beholders.

There were the eyebrows, for one thing. He was convinced that the single eyebrow which some, but not all of them, had inherited from Violet had something to do with it. August

We have never explained the numerical value of any of the constants of Nature.

We were about to give up and call it a night when somebody threw the girl off the bridge.

We all need something that's ours. A thing that we know absolutely about ourselves that others can only guess at.

I have committed another crime, Hadley,' he said. 'I have guessed the truth again.

It's all very well to have your eight suspects parading in their endless ring-around-the-rosebush outside the library. That's fine. But give some sensible reason why they were there. If you must shower the room with bus tickets, provide a reason for that too. In other words, construct your story. Your present problem is not to explain the villainy of the guilty: it's to explain the stupidity of the innocent.

There's no keeping anything from you, is there, Devil-face?" she demanded, rolling about in her seat almost gaily. "Now, then, how did you know that?

They got the body out this morning, with a little silver crucifix twined about the neck. She had already written a note which she just addressed 'To the Police Department,' confessing that she had shot LaGarde. She confessed to a crime she did not commit.

paperchase. And it is on a deduction drawn from

But for the greatest long - range murder ever committed in a locked room, gents, I commend you to one of the most brilliant short detective stories in the history of detective fiction. (In fact, it shares the honours for supreme untouchable top - notch excellence with Thomas Burke's The Hands of Mr Ottermole, Chesterton's The Man in the Passage, and Jacques Futrelle's The Problem of Cell 13.) This is Melville Davisson Post's The Doomdorf Mystery

I have done one brave thing - Than all the Worthies did; And yet a braver thence doth spring - Which is to keep that hid

The Phoenix riddle hath more witBy us, we two being one, are it.So to one neutral thing both sexes fit,We die and rise the same, and proveMysterious by this love.

I have done one braver thingThan all the Worthies did;And yet a braver thence doth spring,Which is, to keep that hid.

Go, and catch a falling star,Get with child a mandrake root,Tell me, where all past years are,Or who cleft the Devil's foot.Teach me to hear mermaids singing.

Who ever comes to shroud me, do not harmNor question muchThat subtle wreath of hair, which crowns my arm;The mystery, the sign you must not touch,For 'tis my outward soul,Viceroy to that, which then to heaven being gone,Will leave this to control,And keep these limbs, her provinces, from dissolution.

Poor intricated soul! Riddling, perplexed, labyrinthical soul!

And what is so intricate, so entangling as death? Who ever got out of a winding sheet?

Our soules, (which to advance their state, Were gone out,) hung 'twixt her, and mee.... When love, with one another so Interinanimates two soules.... Loves mysteries in soules doe grow, But yet the body is his booke....

Twice or thrice had I loved thee, Before I knew thy face or name.

Teach me to hear mermaids singing

Twice or thrice had I lov'd thee, Before I knew thy face or name