Quotes About Mystery

remember: not all that is fiction is fictional, and not all that is true is transparent.

He was dropped off directly in front of the Black Tower.

The Night Managers.

My father saw him one time. We live in mexico, on the farm, and Father went to feed the horses. At night. Little man was standing there giving hay to the horses. And Father watch and he came and he told Mother, 'Jedushka Di Muvedushka feeding the horses'. He don't get scared, nothing. In the morning we go look, the horses' hair all braided. So Beautiful! All their hair braided.

I was reminded of the Winchester Mystery House, which I'd seen as a child on a trip with my parents. From above, there was the same sort of random conglomeration—peaked roofs connected to flat roofs, shakes and shingles, tarpaper and skylights—and I realized that Frank had constructed his house from the town, connecting the buildings until they made one enormous edifice. "Jesus," I breathed.

The cool breeze that ruffled her hair felt like something more than wind. 

We know well what we lose by death, but we know not what we gain.

If a June night could talk, it would probably boast it invented romance.

Only secrets can be conquered'- most of all the secrets that lie within ourselves.

Do you think chance is really just the logic of God?

Void fascinates those who daren't look into it. They throw themselves in, for fear of falling.

The death of a child, the most sorrowful of all the mysteries.

Then in an explosion of wings all the pigeons rose and took to the air. 'Why do they do that?' 'What?' 'The simultaneous thing. One goes, they all go.' 'They must be Catholics.

A man is an island in the only sense that matters, not an easy way to be. We live in mystery, a cosmos of separate lonely bodies, men, insects, stars. It is all loneliness and men know it best.

If the stories come, you get them written, you're on the right track. Eventually everyone learns his or her own best way. The real mystery to crack is you.

Grupisisene hirm peletab hirmu välismaailma ees.

Regarde les étoiles et apprécie, toi, d'être vivante.

Yes, sin-ah, without the final yod that is also one of the letters in the name of God.

I remember stony landscapes in which I sensed the mysterious imprint left by eyes that had looked on them for centuries upon centuries before me

Devant le mystère il convient de s'ouvrir et de se dévoiler tout entier afin de forcer le mystère à se dévoiler à son tour.

Never answer an anonymous letter.

Usually, people die unknowingly. Come to think of it, can you die knowingly? Putting it akwardly: We are died as we are delivered. Nobody delivers himself on this planet, just as nobody dies himself off it. So dying is hard to define. The most satisfactory idea is that of a struggle near the exit, after which you are let through.

Down the other way to the right lay the vast mystery of West China and the Himalayas, unknown, uncharted, brooding, sleeping, buried behind fear and time and the ranges of always-white mountains.

Who built the seven towers of Thebes? The books are filled with the names of kings. Was it kings who hauled the craggy blocks of stone?... In the evening when the Chinese wall was finished Where did the masons go?...