Quotes About Mystery

One doesn't like to appear vulgarly inquisitive. But if everyone one knows has suddenly started murdering everyone else, it would be terribly nice to know about it.

I don't get it,' Caroline said, bemused. 'She's the only one with wings. Why is that?' There were so many questions in life. You couldn't ever have all the answers. But I knew this one. It's so she can fly,' I said. Then I started to run.

So if we could not have love, my husband and I, then at least I could have alchemy.

My shell collection Here are my shells, orderly to the eye, mysterious to the mind. Some are rough and grainy, others are soft and pearly. Mine are all empty, but out in the sea there are empty ones too – as many as there are full. When the creatures emerge, they leave part of themselves behind. That is why I think of these spirals as living though they are asleep in their forms.

You might not notice the moon very much. White and silent, it shines a cold light that is merely a ghost of the beloved day.

You are comprised of a million tiny locks. There's no master key to be found, encased in the plush velvet heart, no matter how desperately you ask someone to reach in and grope around. No matter how hard you try to find it.

there is more Magic in the world than most scoffing people credit.

Why?" Why wouldn't he let her go? Why did he make her stay? She felt the brush of his lips over her hair. "Because I need you." "You don't know me." "I know." His finger under her chin lifted her face. "But I've waited centuries for the chance.

Religion appears in this book as it does in my other work on religion, media, and consumption—not as a solid, circumscribed, institutional, organized entity but more as (to borrow a phrase from author Anne Lamott) "the water at the edge of things.

I catch a flash of red-gold beneath the surface of the water, and realize that there are koi in the pond, massive, serene, and I wonder: are they dreams of fish, or fish who dream?

Oh, Whistle, and I'll Come to You, My Lad' " is one of the scariest stories I have ever read,

Gentle reader, allow me to introduce Kyle Murchison Booth. You will forgive him if he does not shake hands.

I can see the darkness winding around me like silk ribbons, streaming and flapping in a wind that is not there.

He gave me a look, indecipherable as all Mildmay's looks were.

The eye sockets of their skulls are dark, like they've got all the night inside their heads.

There is a terrible weight to that never from Malkar Gennadion, who is also Brinvillier Strych-and who knows how many other names he may have had? Who knows how many lives he may have held and used and discarded, how many other lives he may have left ruined in his wake? I wonder if even Malkar himself knows any longer.

She was tall, slender, lithe. She wore her hair in smooth black curls around the perfect oval of her face, and her eyes were pale gray, the color of fog. She wore the clothes of a lady with neither apology not discomfort, dark purple poplin trimmed with black lace, high-necked and formfitting with a great swag of bustle behind. She saw us and made her way across the room without hesitation.

What is mikkary?" "The feeling a room gets when there's been murder done in it," Mildmay said. Kay's face was very still for a moment; then he said slowly, "Yes, I know that feeling well.

Nico Rossi wasn't a good boy. He was a bad boy dressed in a good suit.

You never know, just by looking, what a person is hiding.

She loved living here, in this land of mist and mountains, of lochs and legend.

We need Harry Potter.

She watched Trey nod his head to her question before asking, "Would you like to see what I retrieved from my bag? I promise you'll love it and beg for more.

He's definitely one of those men you love before you get to know.