Quotes About Mystery

The Lord has made all things for Himself (Prov.xvi.4): apart from Himself there existed nothing to make them for. He made them for His own sake, for His own pleasure. But it was His pleasure to bring into existence things that could take pleasure in existence. For our sakes He made us for His sake. To us there is something mysterious in an altruism so total, but something exciting in the mystery. Among all the mysteries, many are greater, but it is hard to think of one more pleasing.

A Mystery in short is an invitation to the mind. For it means that there is an inexhaustible well of Truth from which the mind may drink and drink again in the certainty that the well will never run dry, that there will always be water for the mind's thirst.

It is of the very nature of partial seeing that we cannot see all the reconciliation of the parts we see, because it is only in the whole that they are one, and we do not see the whole. The word we form cannot wholly express God: only the Word He generates can do that. To be irked at this necessary darkness is as though we were irked at not being God.

He made all things from nothing, and these perfections will be in things only in so far as nothingness can receive them, or to put it crudely, with a certain mingling of nothingness: whereas they are in God in utter purity.

You may be a puzzle, but I like the way the parts fit.

We may not know how the lines of our life are going to end, but at least we can predict what they'll sound like.

He stands in the kitchen doorway, a black figure surrounded by the yellow light background, the small details of his face unseen from the darkness of the living room. His left shoulder leans slightly against the threshold, a pistol suspended from the left hand, dangling in the yellow space between the hip and the dark.

We see God and the devil making fools of each other, and we nurture in ourselves the absolutely unshakable conviction that both of them are drunk.

It would be agreeable to conclude this book with a cheery fanfare about science closing in, slowly but surely, on the ultimate mystery; but the time for rosy rhetoric is not yet at hand. The orign of life appear to me as incomprehensible as ever, a matter for wonder but not for explication.

Meanwhile, the duck's body entered the funnel's black terminal cloud and joined an indescribably melange of dead and dying.

That was close!" Frank gasped. The car had been traveling at such high speed that the boys had been unable to get the license number or a glimpse of the driver's features. But they had noted that he was hatless and had a shock of red hair.

the one who stole the small float plane at Yellowknife.

with a duffel bag over his shoulder.

Witches don't look like anything. Witches are. Witches do.

My own mask stayed just where it ought. I've had lots of practice.

Soon the Boggy Mun would open up shop. I wore no cloak and had no pockets. I carried my knife and salt in a basket. Little Red Riding Hood, skipping off into the woods. And whom will she meet? Why, her own self, of course: the wolf.

The problem I have telling my secret', said Eldric, 'is that it's a secret.

My, my," said Eldric. "You are full of surprises.

That girl was gone; wolfgirl had returned. Wolfgirl, who was leaf dance and moon claw and tooth gleam. When Jupiter sizzled the air with lightning bolts, she caught them on the fly. "Nice throw, Jupiter!" "Nice catch, wolfgirl!" Her mouth was a cavern of stars.

Death had no lips, but it was smiling.

Life's splendor forever lies in wait about each one of us in all its fullness, but veiled from view, deep down, invisible, far off. It is there, though, not hostile, not reluctant, not deaf. If you summon it by the right word, by its right name, it will come.

She looked like, if you bit her, milk and honey would flow from her.

Jetzt kommt die Pointe aller Pointen, die mir der Herr im Schlaf verliehen hat.

Every incident in the history of the world, whether it was the flight of a gnat or a great battle, revealed by the very fact of its occurrence the mystery that was inherent in it.