Quotes About Mystery

Piranesi. It is what he calls me. Which is strange because as far as I can remember it is not my name.

Don't ask me those questions! Don't ask me what life means or how we know reality or why we have to suffer so much. Don't talk about how nothing feels real, how everything is coated with gelatin and shining like oil in the sun. I don't want to hear about the tiger in the corner or the Angel of Death or the phone calls from John the Baptist.

Vsako dejanje, tudi najneznatnejše utegne v sebi nositi skrivnost, nevidno seme, ki lahko vzkali, ?e ga sprejmeš.

È la misteriosa e gratuita dinamica dell'incontro a permetterci di andare avanti.

If you ask me to leave now, I will." Slowly his mouth curved into that heart-stopping smile. "And then you'll miss what comes next." She shut her eyes for a heartbeat, trying to regain some control over her thoughts and her spread, wanton body. "What comes next?" "You do." He lowered his head again.

Obsidian eyes met hers, unreadable and assessing. Men didn't generally pay her much attention except to make an even number in a dance. And now she had a secret nearly-betrothed and a supposed teacher, one who looked like an angel and one a devil, and both with awful reputations. Best to remember that neither of them likely had anything good in mind for her.

He cannot be seen, neither above, nor across, nor in the middle. He is beyond grasp. There is no image that is true to His from. His name is glory itself. Svetasvatara Upanishad - Chapt 4 - 19

I cannot say that I know Brahman fully. Nor can I say that I know him not.... Nor do I know that I know him not.

how beautifully he unveiled the spiritual mysteries while skillfully hiding his identity

I wonder: Can a brainless animal feel curiosity? Does it want to play? Or does it only "want" toys or food the way a plant "wants" the sun? Does a sea star experience consciousness? If it does, what does consciousness feel like to a sea star? Clearly, I have entered a world I cannot

Being friends with an octopus-whatever that friendship meant to her-has shown me that our world, and the worlds around and within it, is aflame with shades of brilliance we cannot fathom

Soul is the fingerprint of God.

Then suddenly, we saw the voltmeter flash. "What's going on?" I asked Scott. "I thought the eel was asleep." "He is asleep," Scott answered. And then we both realized what was happening. The eel was dreaming.

To dive beneath the surface feels like entering the Earth's vast, dreaming subconscious.

It was as if a complex, sophisticated society of fifteen million people simply walked away from their lives one day and never came back, leaving nothing but deserted cities and abandoned architectural masterpieces in their wake.

I'd like to pay your palms the same favor that you pay these pages, searching them for grooves and images and the secret signs of hunger, as you may scan these words for hidden messages. The lines of your hand might be a guide to your gifts for pleasure, or a clue to where you'll take me, or a map of where I might take you.

You know how it is - some hot guys don't make your hormones go crazy, while some unattractive guys have massive sex appeal. This guy had it all.

Qué haría yo sin ti? —Eso nunca lo sabrás.

I realized we'd pulled into a parking garage. We drove around two levels, pulled into a spot, then immediately pulled out again. Along with four other black Bentley SUVs. "What's going on?" I asked, as we headed back toward the exit with two Bentleys in front of us and two behind us. "Shell game," he said…

He lounged on his side, bare-chested and barefooted, his jeans unbuttoned to show both the waistband of his underwear and the sleek lines of his ripped abs. His dark brown hair was sexily mussed and his emerald eyes were bright with mischief.

I've got a call on hold to send your way," she said. "And I hope it's personal, because holy hell is his voice smokin' hot. He sounds like S-E-X rolled in chocolate and covered in whipped cream." Nervous excitement raised the hairs on my nape. "Did he give his name?" "Yep. Brett Kline.

I don't believe I will ever understand men. The more I learn about them, the less they make sense

I was dying to see how the rest of the night would go, how many more sides of Gideon I'd get to discover. Because I loved this side of the man as much as I loved the powerful businessman in the suit and the dominant lover in my bed and the broken child who couldn't hide his tears and the tender partner who held me when I cried.

Nie zuvor hatte ich so tiefschwarzes Haar gesehen. Dicht und glänzend reichte es ihm bis zum Kragen - eine sexy Länge, die dem erfolgreichen Geschäftsmann das Aussehen eines Bad Boy verlieh, wie Schlagsahne auf einem Schokobecher.