Quotes About Mystery

The truth is a young maiden as modest as she is beautiful, and therefore she is always seen cloaked.

Secrets can kill the innocent and enchant the guilty.

"For all we become aware of when we slowly wake up, you can't help but pause and wonder what is still left unseen.

The supernatural world was like an onion. You peel back the layers, only to find more layers, on and on, hopelessly trying to reach the mysterious core. Then you start crying.

Every secret has a expiration date...

Do you believe in love at first sight?I don't know but it saves an awful lot of time

Truth is much like fire. Hard to understand, ever-changing.

One hand was behind his back, and he held it out, presenting a bouquet of white and smoky purple lilies. "They're straight from the underworld, by the way. They are everlasting. They won't die.

One Life With Many Names, Childhood, Boyhood, Manhood And Old, Then? Then! All Unknown, Uncertain Destination....

The irony of life is that those who wear masks often tell us more truths than those with open faces.

Somebody knows.

Just as heart is a fountain of unspoken words, the universe is a womb of wonder weird worlds.

The perfect killer has no identity.

DNA tells you all the secrets of life, ' he used to say. Except for one—how to live it.

Mrs Slagg placed her finger at her lips and gave a smile which it would be impossible to describe. It was a mixture of the cunning and the maudlin.

he was able by dint of concentration to observe, within three inches of his keyholed eye, an eye which was not his, being not only a different colour to his own iron marble but being, which is more convincing, on the other side of the door.

The night is young, and by the grace of magic, so are we.

He turned into a rhinocerous, Ms. Smirt said. He does that, Sabrina said.

The girl was a labyrinth to him; only by chance and error did he ever stumble blindly into her heart.

He allowed the world to wind him in the final set of chains, and climbed, once and for all, into the cabinet of mysteries that was the life of an ordinary man.

it was the insoluble problems—the false leads and the cold cases—that reflected the true nature of things.

It was not what he expected from a foulmouthed flower of bohemia, but he had a feeling there was both more and less to her than that.

Bina and Landsman were twisted together, a braided pair of chromosomes with a mystery flaw. And now? Now each of them pretends not to see the other and looks away. Landsman looks away.

It would please him well enough to amount to no more in the end than a single great organ of detection, reaching into blankness for a clue.