Quotes About Unknown

On the day of his death he would see her face and he could hope to carry that beauty into the darkness with him, the last pagan on earth, singing softly on his pallet in an unknown tongue.

Nothing is more frightening then a fear you cannot name.

Perhaps it's true that death is only the beginning of a new story, but no one has ever read the book in which it's written.

Der Weglose Wald verdiente seinen Namen. Er schien kein Anfang und kein Ende zu haben, wie ein grünes Meer, in dem man ebenso leicht ertrinken konnte wie in den Wellen seines salzig nassen Namensvettern.

Hiccup had made leaps such as these all his life. Leaps of faith, leaps of hope, leaps out into the unknown. Hiccup had always trusted in his luck, in his faith that the universe was ultimately kindly, a Good Egg, as Stoick would put it, rather than a Bad Egg, and would reach out and save him. But this was more of a leap of despair.

And her soul died in her for fear: she knew she had never seen him, he had never seen her, they had met in the dark and had fought in the dark, not knowing whom they met nor whom they fought.

But the act, called the sexual act, is not for the depositing of seed. It is for leaping off into the unknown, as from a cliff's edge, like Sappho into the sea.

Sail Forth- Steer for the deep waters only. Reckless O soul, exploring. I with thee and thou with me. For we are bound where mariner has not yet dared go. And we will risk the ship, ourselves, and all.

We still know so little about the nature of dreams that the observation comes to a stop once it has been made.

Fear of the unknown. They are afraid of new ideas. They are loaded with prejudices, not based upon anything in reality, but based on… if something is new, I reject it immediately because it's frightening to me. What they do instead is just stay with the familiar. You know, to me, the most beautiful things in all the universe, are the most mysterious.

The mercy of the world is you don't know what's going to happen.

Don't introduce me to that man! I want to go on hating him, and I can't hate a man whom I know.

I guess babysitters are like used cars... You never really know what you're getting...

I do know this—this right here is just prelude. Dress rehearsal. The intro. One of these days each one of us is going to get called up and given the chance to join our voices in a song we've never heard, yet one we've known our whole lives.

I don't know how, or whether it is even possible to predict what the world will look like the next day. I simply have to close my eyes, and wait until tomorrow in order to find out.

My faith is in the unknown, in all that we do not understand by reason; I believe that what is beyond our comprehension is a simple fact in other dimensions, and that in the realm of the unknown there is an infinite power for good.

Course I'm scared. I'm always scared when we go somewhere we've not been before. It's good to be scared. Keeps you alive." - Ollie, The Enemy

What did we know? This was early days. We had no idea what was out there. How dangerous it might be. It was just a school maths problem. They never asked that in the exams, did they? Like, "If John walks at three miles an hour from London to Brighton, and he's attacked by rabid grown-ups four times, and they bite his right leg off, how long will it take him to bleed to death?

It does good to no woman to be flattered [by a man] who does not intend to marry her; and it is madness in all women to let a secret love kindle within them, which, if unreturned and unknown, must devour the life that feeds it; and, if discovered and responded to, must lead, ignis-fatuus-like, into miry wilds whence there is no extrication.

Five by five they walk down the street of arrivals. It is actually the street of departures but no one knows it. This is a one-way street.

The unknown is always a threat. Unruly artists take to all this eagerly; they find a home in outsiderness. But while history has always made a certain space available to feral men, from Caravaggio to Picasso to Prince, feral women have a harder time of it. Much of our battle is internal. Raised from birth to please, to be helpful, to shrink and be decorative, for a woman to proudly show herself in all her individuality is a much greater challenge.

The sound came again. There was a whistle to it, and a moan. It was almost a hiss, and it could've been a strangled gasp. Above all, it was quiet, and it seemed to have no source. It whispered.

Why X?" Libby asked. "Because X is the most mysterious letter," May told her. "And things with X's in them are pretty cool.

I didn't know what was making that noise, but whatever it was, it was mad and it was big. And I didn't want to meet it with nothing but my cheeks in my hands.