mystery

I'd rather be stung to death by a bunch of piss ants. ~Synola Harper, You're Busting My Nuptials

Virginia screamed, grabbing for the door handle and nearly throwing herself from the moving car. James swerved to the side of the road, slamming on the brakes before she killed herself trying to escape. As it was, she flung herself from the car, falling to her knees and scrambling to her feet. Then she ran. Took off like a bolt until she rounded the bend and disappeared from view. 'Way to go, slick,' AJ said snarkily, climbing into the front seat. 'You ran her off.

I never met a gal who represented a mystery to me in quite the fetchin' way you did. It'd be dull and dreary just to find out how a crook got in and out of a locked room to steal a gold-and-jewelled cup. But it's very rummy, and fascinates the old man a bit, to wonder why a crook didn't steal a gold-and-jewelled cup he should have stolen.

We were the creatures desired throughout the ages... foolish humans didn't even realize it, living in their own little world.

To surround anything, however monstrous or ridiculous, with an air of mystery, is to invest it with a secret charm, and power of attraction which to the crowd is irresistible.

Know this much:regret nothing.Each part of your journey is essential to the whole.The moment you are experiencing is as important as your destination.Ninetah,the Daskiny Healer in The Traveler

A small white rabbit with floppy ears and a twitching pink nose bounded out from the thick forest brush. Fingers twitching at his side, James stepped toward the small animal, a nervous giddiness creeping up inside of him.

She turned back to the door fishing her key out of her purse. Once the key was in the lock, the door flew open revealing darkness. All she had time for was a squeak before she was abruptly pulled in the house by her shirt. The door slammed shut and locked behind her with a clank of sliding metal.

Wondrous as it is, how simple is this mystery! To love Christ and to know that I love Him--this is all!

I did not deceive you, mon ami. At most, I permitted you to deceive yourself.

If he can't reach you he can't hit youIf he can't hit you he can't hurt you

At the moment developing a nice little inoffensive cancer somewhere on dry land seemed infinitely preferable to what she was grimly convinced was soon to be her death by drowning way too far out at sea.

Everything about the man spoke of virility--his quick reaction, his calm control now that danger had passed. And she'd never seen a man wield a gun in real life--it was kind of a turn-on to know that he'd protected her. Of course he had protected everyone, but he _had_ sort of singled her out by heaving her to the floor.

When a man is a mystery to himself you can hardly call him mysterious.

Put it in terms of the not-too-serious, if you like. Who got into that locked room? And how was it done? And why should the cup have been moved again? We're up against the essential detective problems of who, how, and why. Simply because there was no murder or near-murder, does that make the mystery one bit less baffling?

Annabelle, I'm going to kill you!" I cried, frowning at the mess. Then I glanced down the stairway and gasped.It looked like someone had beaten me to it.

Avid readers are the most authentic creatures on the face of the earth, and their hearts and minds are not for sale at any price. "Mysteries for the Inspired Traveler" Goodreads blog

Chance is life's only certainty.