Quotes About Mystery

I was always attracted not by some quantifiable, external beauty, but by something deep down, something absolute. Just as some people have a secret love for rainstorms, earthquakes, or blackouts, I liked that certain undefinable something.

The blood must have already, in its own silent way, seeped inside.

the world's filled with things I don't know about.

You have let something out of the bag before you yourself knew what it was all about. That can be awfully dangerous

Maybe it's just hiding somewhere. Or gone on a trip and forgotten to come home. But falling in love is always a pretty crazy thing. It might appear out of the blue and just grab you. Who knows—maybe even tomorrow.

A secret's a secret because you don't let people in on it.

There are things in his world it is better not to know about. Of course, those are the very things that people most want to know about.

In truly deep darkness, all kinds of strange things were possible.

Putting it into words will destroy any meaning.

There was a small stand of trees nearby, and from it you could hear the mechanical cry of a bird that sounded as if it were winding a spring. We called it the wind-up bird. Kumiko gave it the name. We didn't know what it was really called or what it looked like, but that didn't bother the wind-up bird. Every day it would come to the stand of trees in our neighborhood and wind the spring of our quiet little world.

Strangely transparent, they seemed like windows to a world beyond, but however long I peered into there depths, there was nothing I could see.

Back within those eyes there was a deep world, a world beyond time.

People do change. And no matter how close we once were, and how much we opened up to each other, maybe neither if us know anything substantial about the other.

It was nothing but a hole, a mouth open wide. You could lean over the edge and peer down to see nothing. All I knew about the well was its frightening depth. It was deep beyond measuring, and crammed full of darkness, as if all the world's darkness had been boiled down to their ultimate density.

There are — how do you say — things in this world our philosophy cannot account for.

The mask possesses equal levels of sorcery and functionality. It has been both handed down from ancient times with darkness and sent back from the future with light.

I turn a corner, I offered, just as someone ahead of me turns the next corner. I can't see what that person looks like. All I can make out is a flash of white coattails. But the whiteness of the coattails is indelibly etched in my consciousness. Ever get that feeling?

There's something about those secrets that only the deceased person can rightly understand. Something that can't be explained, no matter how hard you try. They're what the dead person has to take with him to his grave. Like a valuable piece of luggage.

It felt like he'd opened the lid to invite me, personally, to the world underground. No one else, just me.

I don't dream. Come to think of it, i haven't had any dreams in a long time.

Los deseos no deben contarse a nadie

In the same way that people stare up at the sky to see the moon every night, yet understand next to nothing about it.

Ask whatever questions you want, but remember, I may not answer.

For some reason, it often rained on the nights they met, and this night was no exception - a thin drizzle was falling outside.