mysterious

Can you hear Destiny laugh as she tiptoes toward you? Destiny is heartless.

Have a look around, my pretty, we are surrounded by Death in all forms _ just the two of us are still alive _

Those with less curiosity or ambition just mumble that God works in mysterious ways. I intend to catch him in the act.

Everybody is equally weak on the inside, just that some present their ruins as new castles and become kings _

Strength and victory... What he would never praise himself for, but whose loss was his most obsessive fear.

People make interesting assumptions about the profession. The writer is a mysterious figure, wandering lonely as a cloud, fired by inspiration, or perhaps a cocktail or two.

This book is so interesting. I always wonder what's going to happen next.

The primary feature of women is not a 'beauty', it's a 'mystery'.

Quiet people always know more than they seem. Although very normal, their inner world is by default fronted mysterious and therefore assumed weird. Never underestimate the social awareness and sense of reality in a quiet person; they are some of the most observant, absorbent persons of all.

Women are mysterious beings in which lie strange delights.

The moment you are wrapped up in the world, you become blind to the things wrapped in the mysteries.

Human psychology is the most mysterious thing in the world.

The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.

The pieces of the puzzle are visible, but not the grand design. Images flicker and dance like memories, hinting at events to come. They scatter the moment I reach for them only to re-form to taunt me. I who never truly possessed them, nor may I ever.They do tell me this: a time of great change approaches and it__ not enough to watch. We must act. We can__ count on others to do our work for us or all may be lost.- Oracle Lilian__ Diary, Winter of 3765

We need the tonic of wildness...At the same time that we are earnest to explore and learn all things, we require that all things be mysterious and unexplorable, that land and sea be indefinitely wild, unsurveyed and unfathomed by us because unfathomable. We can never have enough of nature.

I made spasmodic efforts to work, assuring myself that once I began working I would forget her. The difficulty was in beginning. There was a feeling of weakness, a sort of powerlessness now, as though I were about to be ill but was never quite ill enough, as though I were about to come down with something I did not quite come down with. It seemed to me that for the first time in my life I had been in love, and had lost, because of the grudgingness of my heart, the possibility of having what, too late, I now thought I wanted. What was it that all my life I had so carefully guarded myself against? What was it that I had felt so threatened me? My suffering, which seemed to me to be a strict consequence of having guarded myself so long, appeared to me as a kind of punishment, and this moment, which I was now enduring, as something which had been delayed for half a lifetime. I was experincing, apparently, an obscure crisis of some kind. My world acquired a tendency to crumble as easily as a soda cracker. I found myself horribly susceptible to small animals, ribbons in the hair of little girls, songs played late at night over lonely radios. It became particularly dangerous for me to go near movies in which crippled girls were healed by the unselfish love of impoverished bellhops. I had become excessively tender to all the more obvious evidences of the frailness of existence; I was capable of dissolving at the least kind word, and self-pity, in inexhaustible doses, lay close to my outraged surface. I moved painfully, an ambulatory case, mysteriously injured.

It's all a series of serendipities with no beginnings and no ends. Such infinitesimal possibilities Through which love transcends.

She is a smile in the dark