Quotes About Mystery

It is remarkable that the persons we love most are those we can least describe.

A race like these Mayas, who hadn't discovered the wheel and built pyramids and temples in the jungle, where everything becomes smothered in moss and crumbles with damp—what for?

Nostradamus wasn't often right, but he sure was often.

There is no way our little minds can comprehend the love of God. But that didn't keep him from coming.

Earthly fears are no fears at all. All the mystery is revealed. The final destination is guaranteed. Answer the big question of eternity, and the little questions of life fall into perspective.

Christmas is best pondered, not with logic, but with imagination.

Who has more reason to worship than the astronomer who has seen the stars? Than the surgeon who has held a heart? Than the oceanographer who has pondered the depths?

Glup. ¿Quién puede hacer esto?

The omnipotent, in one instant, made himself breakable. He who had been spirit became pierceable. He who was larger than the universe became an embryo. And he who sustains the world with a word chose to be dependent upon the nourishment of a young girl. God as a fetus. Holiness sleeping in a womb. The Creator of life being created.

The black well of sky and stars went out and out and out forever; her body and her complexity seemed to disappear.

Be careful what you say. It comes true. It comes true. I had to leave home in order to see the world logically, logic the new way of seeing. I learned to think that mysteries are for explanation. I enjoy the simplicity. Concrete pours out of my mouth to cover the forests with freeways and sidewalks. Give me plastics, periodical tables, TV dinners with vegetables no more complex than peas mixed with diced carrots. Shine floodlights into dark corners: no ghosts.

Every flower holds the whole mystery in its short cycle, and in the garden we are never far away from death, the fertilizing, good, creative death.

What does myself now say to me? Open the door of Mystery.

And all that may be an inherited grace, but Anne, within yet apart from her family, is unique. Of what is her genius made? That is the mystery I have been contemplating this morning. Perhaps the key is in her capacity to make herself available on any day, at any time, to whatever human joy or grief longs to be fulfilled or assuaged by sharing … longs to pour itself out and to be understood.

I've got a magic charm That I keep up my sleeve, I can walk the ocean floor And never have to breathe.

It is this belief in a power larger than myself and other than myself which allows me to venture into the unknown and even the unknowable.

He was away in a mystery, locked in the enigma that young Southern Black boys start to unravel, start to try to unravel, from seven years old to death. The humorless puzzle of inequality and hate.

All my ways of being are musical and mysterious. Yet I embrace you openly. Ripe with expectancy.

My dear, I have known since I was a small boy on a hill in Greece that when I met you, you'd never tell me who you were, you would give another name. Equally beautiful and equally mystical. But I would know you by the music in your voice and the shadow of the forest on your beautiful face.

Maya Angelou lived what she wrote. She understood that sharing her truth connected her to the greater human truths—of longing, abandonment, security, hope, wonder, prejudice, mystery, and, finally, self-discovery: the realization of who you really are and the liberation that love brings.

Men themselves have wondered What they see in me. They try so much But they can't touch My inner mystery. When I try to show them They say they still can't see. I say, It's in the arch of my back, The sun of my smile, The ride of my breasts, The grace of my style. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me.

Tell me something Micah, If you found a naked woman tied to your bed what would you think? That I have been a very good boy in a pass life.

I guess what they say is true. Anything the government wants to hide, they stick it in New Mexico

Why?" she asked softly. "You don't even like me, Steele. You can barely stand to be in my presence." He pulled her back close, trapping her in his arms, his gaze boring into hers. "Why do you think that is, Maren? You're an intelligent woman. You saw the hard-on I had for you earlier. Put two and two together and I bet you'll find your answer." "You're attracted to me," she whispered.