Quotes About Mystery

What follows is ambiguous and sometimes tortuously told. Man's searchings and his strugglings are ambiguous and vowed to hidden ways. Those who live by that dark light will understand.

His sudden decision not to see her any more was utterly incomprehensible to the girl, it was a death sentence from a hidden authority for an unknown crime. Nothing had changed, and then there was suddenly this.

It was dark now. A thin moon was visible, a bright portent, but giving no light.

Cambridge by moonlight was light blue and brownish black. There was no mist here and a great vault of clear stars hung over the city with an intent luxurious brilliance. It was the sort of night when one knows of other galaxies. My long shadow glided before me on the pavement. Although it was not yet eleven o'clock the place seemed empty and I moved through it like a mysterious and lonely harlequin in a painting: like an assassin.

We all love a glimpse of Lucas, it's a religious experience.

Everything is full of gods

Oh why is she going away just when I want so much to be with her! She is the answer to the riddle of my life.

It seemed to echo away into the hidden spaces and honeycombs of the dark.

What is God anyway? A dark place —

One morning, one day, perhaps soon, she would come to him and find him gone; and she knew how much she did not want to see him die, and yet how much she also wished that he might die holding her hand. These thoughts induced tears, which he must not see; and she tried not to think too much about the terrible mystery which was to be enacted . . .

There are secret saints with strange destinies.

There are violent things in my heart. Perhaps they have been festering there ever since that change . And now I have run in here to find some different pain, some mystery of myself to keep secret, something which, for this short time, is absolutely not Jack.

Po?i auzi marea? - ?sta era citatul favorit din Shakespeare, a lui Keats.

There are indeed many places where I could start. I might start with Rachel's tears, or Priscilla's. There is much shedding of tears in this story. In a complex explanation any order may seem arbitrary. Where after all does anything begin? That three of the four starting points I have mentioned were causally independent of each other suggests speculations, doubtless of the most irrational kind, upon the mystery of human fate.

But these speculations are too nightmarish. Better to feel 'I shall never know'.

The mysterious awful changes which alter the human face from youth to age may gently dally and delay, then act decisively all at once.

What a mystery a marriage was. What a strange and violent world, the world of matrimony. I was glad to be outside it. The idea of it filled me with a sort of queasy pity.

Where do they come from, these tears?

She's also in love with the 'Polish Rider'. Who's he? A picture by Rembrandt.

Everyone here seems to have some weird secret or other.

A marriage is a very secret place.

Everything is full of gods, cousin James once said, quoting somebody.

He looked like some unidentified person in a nineteenth-century photograph.

In so far as there were mysteries and depths in my life I kept them secret from Christ and his soldiery. I was more moved by animals than I was by Jesus.