It is impossible to give a clear account of the world, but art can teach us to reproduce it-just as the world reproduces itself in the course of its eternal gyrations. The primordial sea indefatigably repeats the same words and casts up the same astonished beings on the same sea-shore.
Albert CamusMots clés art world evolution mystery intelligibility as-above-so-below
He was still a mystery to me. And God, did I want to play Nancy Drew.
Cora CarmackMots clés mystery desire want bliss losing-it
When the sea goes down, there will come from the mainland boats and men. And they will find ten dead bodies and an unsolved problem on Indian Island.
Agatha ChristieMots clés mystery agatha-christie
In the nineteenth century, The Romantics viewed Nature as benign, a glowing reflection of God's grace. Now we know better. Nature is brutal and, if it is feminine, she's not the kind of woman you can trust. Human beings may be her finest achievement yet, but when you get right down to brass tacks, we're meat. AIDS and organisms like streptococcus don't give a crap that we subdued the earth or produced a Shakespeare...
Rick YanceyMots clés humor philosophy dogs mystery detective
Mystery, why so attractive to me?
You blind me with fear, place hope on my tongue, and with a cold kiss draw me forward. Wary and trembling, I follow.
Mots clés fear mystery attraction richelle wariness richelle-goodrich
To kiss then was the most natural thing in the world. To explore, to taste, to find out. Katie did find out. When they parted from each other, the world was that much more of a beautiful thing.
Frederick AndersonMots clés romance mystery suspense
Humans are curious creatures. What we cannot see, our logical minds will try to deny.
Nancy B. BrewerMots clés romance curse mystery france victorian historical-ficiton
I am.
I'm here.
I'm me.
You are the mystery.
Mots clés self-awareness mystery you me richelle richelle-goodrich
I have before suggested that a genuine blackguard is never without a pocket-handkerchief.
Edgar Allan PoeMots clés mystery short-story edgar-allan-poe blackguard pocket-handkerchief the-murders-in-rue-morgue
Terrible accident; body parts was everywhere—-fingers, toes, wings, beaks. Ambulance people tried to scoop him all up, but apparently it ain’t so easy as you might think—telling a chicken from a Chinaman, I mean. Anyways, they got his weight off his driver’s license, picked up a hundred and thirty pounds of pieces and buried ‘em. Now his wife come every year 'bout this time to pay her respects. We don't serve chicken while she's here. Hope you ain't got a taste for it.
R.J. LeahyMots clés humor mystery detective fat-chance
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