Quotes About Mysterious

I loved anything spooky, mysterious, or frightening.

I sleepwalk and scare people. It's actually very spooky.

I happen to collect the weird stuff - photos that make the hair on the back of your neck stand up a little. The uncanny.

In the Big City a man will disappear with the suddenness and completeness of the flame of a candle that is blown out.

Wild Bill was a strange character. In person he was about six feet and one inch in height. He was a Plains-man in every sense of the word.

The ultimate triumph of philosophy would be to cast light upon the mysterious ways in which Providence moves to achieve the designs it has for man.

The most mysterious feminine factor, the existence that we men, we don't know. It's woman. It's feminine. That's what the sword is about. That's the symbolic meaning of the sword.

He was a quiet man, Eric Cantona, but he was a man of few words.

Opal is the multi-gem.

The development of an image is a mysterious thing: once a public figure has been cast in a public role, it is almost impossible for him to change the character. It is as if someone has assembled personality traits into a convenient pattern, no writer ever re-examines it: it is easier to use the accepted pattern.

It is difficult to obtain the friendship of a cat. It is a philosophical animal... one that does not place its affections thoughtlessly.

Secrecy is the element of all goodness even virtue, even beauty is mysterious.

New Mexico was such a strange place; it was like filming on Mars.

I may look like the girl next door, but you wouldn't want to live next door to me.

I'm not the girl next door.

She couldn't think of anyone else who remotely resembled him. He was so complicated, almost contradictory in so many ways, yet simple, a strangelh erotic combination. On the surface he was a country boy, home from war and he probably saw himself in those terms. Yet there was so much more to him.

It's hard to explain why I was so nervous: it was partly that little children are mysterious beings, and partly because I genuinely believed in first grade.

She thought I was...soulful, by which I think she means that I don't say much and I always look vaguely pissed off.

Venice was a woman, la bella donna, elegant in her age, sensual in her watery curves, mysterious in her shadows. The first sight of her, rising over the Grand Canal with her colors tattered and faded like old ballgowns, called to the blood. The light, a white, washing sun, would sweep over her and lose itself like a wanderer in her sinuous veins, her secret turns. Here

A sphinx. A mystery. A blank. Unknown. Undefined. Unknowable. Indefinable. Those were all the words Brandy used to describe me in my veils. Not just a story that goes and then, and then, and then, and then until you die.

It felt good to stand out from the world, just mysterious and pious. You weren't a lantern under any basquet. You stood out righteous as a sore thumb. You were the one holy man to keep God from crushing all of the Sodom and Gomorrah seething around you in the Valley Plaza Shoping Center.

what was going on here went well beyond weird and into the stuff of a Stephen King novel.

Part of me thinks we're fools to trust either of the, Hapexamendios or His Reconciler. If He was such a loving God, why did He do so much harm? And don't tell me He moves in mysterious ways because that's so much horse shit and we both know it.

When you hire Harry D'Amour, things have a tendency to become … complicated.