The idea of eternal return is a mysterious one, and Nietzsche has often perplexed other philosophers with it: to think that everything recurs as we once experienced it, and that the recurrence itself recurs ad infinitum! What does this mad myth signify?
Milan KunderaStichwörter: inspirational mystery thought-provoking
I want to keep you, till the end of days.
J.D. RobbStichwörter: fiction mystery eve-and-roarke
And then split his own cranium in half. I would like to see you do that yourself Blore. It would take some practice.
Lombard Philip LombardStichwörter: comedy mystery and-then-there-were-none
...where your mind goes...energy flows
Penny ReillyStichwörter: mystery magick threads weave
Life is a mystery- mystery of beauty, bliss and divinity. Meditation is the art of unfolding that mystery.
Amit RayStichwörter: life mystery meditation
The moment that followed was one that would forever change the course of her life. She reflected on it later, and wondered how such a short matter of seconds could alter so permanently every part of her existence. Like an unstoppable line of dominoes, the moment was the flick that set everything into motion.
Jennifer PerryStichwörter: fate mystery drama
When a mystery is too overpowering, one dare not disobey.
Antoine de Saint-ExupéryStichwörter: mystery
But in that moment, I didn’t want to be trusted. I wanted something far more primal. I stretched up on my tiptoes and leaned in. I closed my eyes as his scent overcame me. When his lips touched mine it felt as if he’d caressed them with a feather. It was all I could do not to wrap myself around him and do things I’d never really thought about doing before.
Sara HubbardStichwörter: romance paranormal-romance mystery witches young-adult high-school first-love ya werewolves teen paranormal-ya
Every great day has a story and a song!
Faith Reese MartinStichwörter: friendship animals courage fantasy historical-fiction mystery time-travel young-adult-fiction lost-colony underground-railroad
Calmly, slowly, she reached behind with her left hand and came up against — yes, fabric. Fine linen, to be precise. So far, so good: she was inside a wardrobe, after all. The only problem was that this linen was oddly warm. Body warm. Beneath the tentative pressure of her palm, it seemed to be moving...
With terrifying suddenness, an ungloved hand clamped roughly over her nose and mouth. A long arm pinned her arms against her sides. She was held tightly against a hard, warm surface.
"Hush," whispered a pair of lips pressed to her left ear. "If you scream, we are both lost.
Stichwörter: mystery historical ya
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