Quotes About Mystery

Felicity's voice came dark and sinister. "Bring me the head of Nikola Tesla.

I knew him the least well, understood him scarcely at all, felt uneasy in his presence, and yet perhaps in a strange way loved him more deeply than any.

I felt as if the world I lived in was only a facade - that beneath its skin, a darker world raged and rampaged. I'd glimpsed that world before, but I'd never known how vast and malignant it might be.

Dia membayangkan dirinya dipintal oleh 'Sang Waktu, Pemintal paling hebat dan paling lama dari semuanya', tapi mengakui bahwa,'tempat pemintalannya adalah tempat rahasia, pekerjaannya tak bersuara dan Tangan-Tangan Sang Waktu diredam.

Truth never envelops itself in mystery, and the mystery in which it is at any time enveloped is the work of its antagonist.

she sipped her drink and tried not to stare at Dalgliesh. But he was murderously handsome, dark as a gypsy, with sleepy, bedroom eyes, his hunter's gaze shuttered now that he was lounging relaxed in his chair, his brandy glass resting on his chest. His legs were stretched out before him…

Is this a tale of insanity or great heroism? You won't know until the very last page.

Jeremy had a mysterious, breath-taking allure about him, the feel of autumn, like riding down a leaf-strewn road, churning up the fragrance of tomorrow in her wake. Yes, Jeremy was a dangerous mix of something sweetly familiar and the enticing scent of change.

The mystery of free will versus predestination. You're going to tie yourself up with that one, Mona. Either God is in charge or He's not. We can go round and round about the origin of evil, but the buck stops at God. The question isn't who causes something to happen, but rather, whether you see the outcome with His eyes or yours. Whether or not you trust He's got it all in His hands.

What happens in Montana stays in Montana, Glo.

wrong about Jenny always wearing it. She could have taken it off, packed it away, or buried it in the backyard.

or two. When women went missing, or

the world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper," a quote by W. B. Yeats

We're not like God, [Papa] says. We can't know. We can't live like we do know or should have known.

The frail letters on the first page were barely legible; they looked like whispers, if whispers had form.

The sun is dissolving like an enchantment

The gaping unknown

This ghost was the ship.

And it occurred to me that it had been, all along, about copies, nothing else. All of it, this entire flaming universe was about copying itself before it died, that's all it was. And we were there in the middle of it, as blind to the machinery inside of us as we were deaf to the machinery of galaxies swirling in circles above us.

On a library bookshelf, thought progresses in a way that is logical but also dumbfounding, mysterious, irresistible.

The fire in the library was colorless.

Newspapers appeared like oracles on your doorstep- gilded fragments of anonymous love.

Remember that life is not a problem to be solved but a mystery to be lived.

I EAT THE DARK