Quotes About Mystery

at Tiryns I stood in the shadow of the Cyclopean man and felt the blaze of that inner eye which has now become a sickly gland;

Paris is like a whore.

How a man can wonder all day in an empty belly, and even get an erection once in a while, is one of those mysteries which are too easily explained by the anatomists of the soul.

bright neckties on the Boulevard Montparnasse, dark bathrooms, Porto Sec, Abdullah cigarettes, the adagio sonata Pathétique, aural amplificators, anecdotal seances, burnt sienna breasts, heavy garters, what time is it, golden pheasants stuffed with chestnuts, taffeta fingers, vaporish twilights turning to ilex, acromegaly, cancer and delirium, warm veils, poker chips, carpets of blood and soft thighs.

Soyez indulgents quand vous nous comparez À ceux qui furent la perfection de l'ordre. Nous qui quêtons partout l'aventure, Nous ne sommes pas vos ennemis. Nous voulons vous donner de vastes et d'étranges domaines Où le mystère en fleur s'offre à qui veut le cueillir.

A veces la atmósfera es tan eléctrica, que el alma se siente llamada a salir de su cuerpo y enloquece.

The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day.

It is curious to note the old sea-margins of human thought! Each subsiding century reveals some new mystery; we build where monsters used to hide themselves.

It is the mystery of the unknown That fascinates us; we are children still Wayward and wistful; with one hand we cling To the familiar things we call our own, And with the other, resolute of will, Grope in the dark for what the day will bring

Fogarty rolled the cylinder in his fingers.' Know what's interesting? I had a look at this thing when they took it out. The insides are burned out.' Are they?' Blue asked mildly. It takes a lot to burn out one of those implants - almost impossible, in fact. You must love him very much,' Fogarty said quietly. Yes,' Blue said. 'Yes, I do.

There is, one knows not what sweet mystery about this sea, whose gently awful stirrings seem to speak of some hidden soul beneath...

Beneath those stars is a universe of gliding monsters.

Where lies the final harbor, whence we unmoor no more? In what rapt ether sails the world, of which the weariest will never weary? Where is the foundling's father hidden? Our souls are like those orphans whose unwedded mothers die in bearing them: the secret of our paternity lies in their grave, and we must there to learn it.

Is Ahab, Ahab? Is it I, God, or who, that lifts this arm? But if the great sun move not of himself; but is an errand-boy in heaven; nor one single star can revolve, but by some invisible power; how then can this one small heart beat; this one small brain think thoughts; unless God does that beating, does that thinking, does that living, and not I.

Wonderfullest things are ever the unmentionable; deep memories yield no epitaphs

the great floodgates of the wonder-world swung open...

Queequeg was a native of Kokovoko, an island far away to the West and South. It is not down in any map; true places never are.

what are the comprehensible terrors of man compared with the interlinked terrors and wonders of God!

For whatever is truly wondrous and fearful in man, never yet was put into words or books.

Dissect him how I may, then, I but go skin deep; I know him not, and never will.

He offered a prayer so deeply devout that he seemed kneeling and praying at the bottom of the sea.

Oh, Ahab! what shall be grand in thee, it must needs be plucked at from the skies, and dived for in the deep, and featured in the unbodied air!

With a frigate's anchors for my bridle-bitts and fasces of harpoons for spurs, would I could mount that whale and leap the topmost skies, to see whether the fabled heavens with all their countless tents really lie encamped beyond my mortal sight!

Hast seen the white whale?