Quotes About Mystery

Yes, you've something to hide. It's none of my business — very true. But I love you, said Caspar Goodwood.

Existía un secreto en Bly… quizá un familiar inmencionable recluido en un insospechado confinamiento?

Oscura como la media noche dentro de su vestido negro, su desfigurada belleza y su indecible aflicción

Before me and beside me sat a row of the comeliest young men, clad in black gowns and wearing on their shoulders long hoods trimmed in white fur. Who and what they were I know not, for I preferred not to learn, lest by chance they should not be so mediaeval as they looked.

was all very interesting." She continued to look at me.  "You don't think that," she then simply stated. "What have I to gain

They might in short have represented any mystery they would; the point being predominantly that the key to the mystery, the key that could wind and unwind it without a snap of the spring, was there in her pocket – or rather, no doubt, clasped at this crisis in her hand and pressed, as she walked back and forth, to her breast. She

Esta vez era otra persona…, una figura de inconfundible maldad: una mujer vestida de negro, pálida y horrible… ¡Oh, qué aire el suyo, qué cara…! Estaba del otro lado del lago. Yo estaba allí con la niña, muy tranquila en ese momento, cuando de repente apareció.

secret of what passed between him and the strange girl who would have sacrificed her marriage to him on so short an acquaintance remains

Oh," said Strether, "what I want is a thing I've ceased to measure or even to understand.

But Daisy, on this occasion, continued to present herself as an inscrutable combination of audacity and innocence.

orele de aur se scurgeau, plantele sorbeau lumina, enigmaticul vechi palat p?lea ca ceara È™i pe urm?, cînd soarele sc?p?ta, începea s? se împurpureze, iar foile mele foÈ™neau în briza r?t?citoare a Adriaticei.

Until we accept the fact that life itself is founded in mystery, we shall learn nothing.

She may be lying in bed reading a book, she may be making love with a prize fighter, or she may be running like mad through a field of stubble, one shoe one, one shoe off, a man named Corn Cob pursuing her hotly. Wherever she is I am standing in complete darkness; her absence blots me out.

Any genuine philosophy leads to action and from action back again to wonder, to the enduring fact of mystery.

Through endless night the earth whirls toward a creation unknown...

I saw through to the last sign and symbol, but I could not read her face. I could see only the eyes shining through, huge, fleshy-like luminous beasts, as though I were swimming behind them in the electric effluvia of her incandescent vision.

This is the greatest damn thing about the universe. That we can know so much, recognize so much, dissect, do everything, and we can't grasp it.

Why do lovely faces haunt us so? Do extraordinary flowers have evil roots?

The disorientation and reorientation which comes with the initiation into any mystery is the most wonderful experience which is possible to have.

The world is always dying and always coming back to life. Tide and pulse, and with the turn of the tide a touch of mystery.

Understanding is not a piercing of the mystery, but an acceptance of it, a living blissfully with it, in it, through and by it.

What is this chaff we chew in our sleep if it is not the remembrance of fang-whorl and star cluster.

Miro al mar, al cielo, a lo ininteligible y distantemente cercano.

In a world grown paralyzed with introspection and constipated by delicate mental meals this brutal exposure of the substantial body comes as a vitalizing current of blood. The violence and obscenity are left unadulterated, as manifestation of the mystery and pain which ever accompanies the act of creation.