Quotes About Mystery

He came to understand why serial killers sent helpful clues to the police.

How potent was that word. With. He could never get used to her, she was fresh every time, she was a casketful of secrets. Any moment now she would open herself up, reveal to him the essential thing, the hidden thing at the core of life, or of her life, or of his life – the thing he was longing to know. The thing he'd always wanted. What would it be?

Nevertheless there was something about Crake. That kind of cool slouchiness always impressed Jimmy, coming from another guy: it was the sense of energies being held back, held in reserve for something more important than present company.

Sex has been domesticated, stripped of the promised mystery, added to the category of the merely expected. It's just what is done, mundane as hockey. It's celibacy these days that would raise eyebrows.

Mushrooms were the roses in the garden of that unseen world, because

you appear without prelude midway between my eyes and the nearest trees, your colours bright, your outline flattened suspended in the air with no more reason for occurring exactly here than this billboard, this highway or that cloud.

Who can fathom the secrets of the human soul?" I said. "None of us is exempt from sin.

It's psychic. It's the age. It's chemical.

We hugged her to us, she was with us in secret, a giggle; she was lava beneath the crust of daily life.

We would like to hear the story of Fuck," says Abraham Lincoln politely.

But now here they are, right in front of me. It's like seeing unicorns. I want to hear them purr.

They are entering the forest of amnesia, where things have lost their names.

Anyway, you don't know what's going to happen. I'm only just thickening the plot. --I'd say it was pretty thick already. Thick plots are my specialty. If you want a thinner kind, look elsewhere.

And it's late at night: a cloudless night, as I observed while walking here. The full moon is out, casting her equivocal corpse-glow over all.

God works in mysterious ways his wonders to perform, as Reenie used to say. Could it be that Myra is my designated guardian angel? Or is she instead a foretaste of Purgatory? And how do you tell the difference?

Nothing. Just that sound, like the sound of starlight scratching its way through outer space: kkkkkkk.

The witch is absolutely necessary.

Toxic shock was ominous because they never really said how you got it, or why, or what happened when you did get it. It just struck you dead in the cunt.

on John Cowper Powys]...there is an indistinct photograph of the great man himself, gazing into the misty cleft of a mountain range, wearing what could be an old rug, or an old cardigan. He looks like a cross between an aged werewolf and a puzzled child.

Bread plays a sacred role in Jewish life. Every loaf contains an element of mystery and hallowedness. Each bite provides a reminder of the privilege of food, not to be taken for granted, and of the hope of blessing the bread in the messianic future.

You're a heartless creature but that's part of your charm. Though you've got more charm than the law allows.

The very mystery of him excited her curiosity like a door that had neither lock nor key.

It was as if the whole world were enveloped in an unmoving blanket of grey smoke. And the whole world was still.

starred with bristly black lashes and slightly tilted at the ends.