Quotes About Mystery

Pierre little foresaw that this world hath a secret deeper than beauty, and Life some burdens heavier than death.

But how? Genius in the Sperm Whale? Has the Sperm Whale ever written a book, spoken a speech? No, his great genius is declared in his doing nothing particular to prove it. It is moreover declared in his pyramidical silence. (Moby Dick Chapter lxxix p345)

Ignorance is the parent of fear, and being completely nonplussed and confounded about the stranger, I confess I was now as much afraid of him as if it was the devil himself who had thus broken into my room at the dead of night. In fact, I was so afraid of him that I was not game enough just then to address him, and demand a satisfactory answer concerning what seemed inexplicable in him.

It is the image of the ungraspable phantom of life; and this is the key to it all.

Where the deepest word ends, there music begins with its supersensuous and all-confounding intimations.

So far gone am I in the dark side of earth, that its other side, the theoretic bright one, seems but uncertain twilight to me.

Man has lost that sense of the full awfulness of the sea which aboriginally belongs to it.

But if the great sun move not of himself; but is as 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. By heaven, man, we are turned round and round in this world, like yonder windlass, and Fate is the handspike.

Herman Melville

Don't ask me to explain a mystique. I'm just enjoying all this while it lasts. I'm basically doing the same thing I was doing 20 years ago.

I don't think I believe in ghosts, per se. But, my nearest experience was when I went on a weekend away and was in a bar in England, years ago, with an ex-girlfriend. I heard this scratching. I was about to go to bed and I was thinking, 'It's an old ghost.' I could hear this noise, but I couldn't work out where it was coming from.

We've known for a long time that the universe is expanding. But about 15 years ago, my colleagues and I discovered that it is expanding faster and faster. That is, the universe is accelerating, and that was not expected, but it is now attributed to this mysterious stuff called dark energy which seems to make up about 70 percent of the universe.

Once upon a time, about 10 years ago, I thought maybe I could write a mystery series about a midwife in Elizabethan England. I had an elaborately convoluted title and an elaborately convoluted plotline, and at that point I got stupendously bored.

People apparently only read mystery stories of any length. With mysteries, the longer the better, and people will read any damn thing. But the indulgent, 800-page books that were written a hundred years ago are just not going to be written anymore, and people need to get used to that.

Well I actually think. I think it's a dinosaur... Have you ever seen the photos of Loch Ness? If you haven't by the way Google it. They look like diplodocus but in the water. These sightings have been going on for thousands of years and the first written account of Nessie was 1500 years ago.

Walter Mosley was not the first black crime writer, nor was he the first to fuse genre conventions with larger social concerns. But when 'Devil in a Blue Dress' introduced the Los Angeles-based private detective Easy Rawlins nearly 20 years ago, it was clear the author set out to stretch the boundaries of the mystery and thriller framework.

I'd like to bring magic back to the place it used to be 100 years ago.

All the fascination of King Solomon's Mines seems to be behind those great mountains and this I may add is a bit of advance work for mother, an entering wedge to my disappearing from sight for years and years in the Congo.

I get recognized for 'The Killing' all the time. People yell out, 'I hope you didn't kill her!' They yell that out in the street.

There must be other races out there, watching our tiny yellow sun glimmering in their unknown field of the sky. Do they desire us as we desire them?

Yes, I was one of the slightly vintage women who let out a shriek when we saw it at Costco: 'The Nancy Drew Mystery Stories', a complete boxed set, fifty-six familiar yellow spines, shrink-wrapped.

Ah, yes, superstition: it would appear to be cowardice in face of the supernatural.

I just don't get death at all. Yes, it's there. But I don't get it.

I'm actually banned from the Himalayas, because I'm too good at yoga.