#myster

In Galapagos, as elsewhere, things of the mind, including intellectual ramifications from evolutionary theory, and things of the spirit, like the feeling one gets from a Queen Anne’s lace of stars in the moonless Galapagean sky, struggle toward accommodation with an elementary desire for material comfort…because so many regard this archipelago as preeminently a terrain of the mind and spirit, a locus of biological thought and psychological rejuvenation. The sheer strength of Darwin’s insight into the development of biological life gently urges a visitor to be more than usually observant here- to notice, say, that while the thirteen Galapagean finches are all roughly the same hue, it is possible to separate them according to marked differences in the shapes of their bills and feeding habits. ↗

— Barry Lopez

#evolution #mystery #nature #spirit #wisdom

She loved mysteries so much that she became one. ↗

— John Green

#love

Alcide: "It's on my right butt cheek. It's shaped like a rabbit." Sookie: "I love bunnies! ↗

— Charlaine Harris

#bunnies #sookie-stackhouse #the-southern-vampire-mysteries #true-blood #love

I am not afraid of tomorrow, for I have seen yesterday and I love today. ↗

— Alexander Vassilieff

#memoirs #mystery-thrillers #love

A soft mist blew around them. Raindrops glistened in his hair, shimmering under the pale glow of the light post. His eyes were shadowed beneath wispy fringes, but the silver in them glinted like pools of liquid mercury. Her breath caught. It must have made a sound because his fingers tightened. His shaky exhale whispered across her face. “This,” he whispered so quietly she almost didn’t hear him. “Is why you are so bad for me. ↗

— Airicka Phoenix

#dangerous-games #mystery-suspense #passionate-love #thriller #young-adult

Her arms groped forward to guide her when her tears blocked her vision in darkness. Then she couldn't run any more. She sank to her knees and began to cry in her terror. She wanted Gary. She suddenly felt strong arms around her. She bent her head to bury it in Gary's shoulder, trembling in the darkness. Whimpering like a small animal in a trap, she pushed herself closer to him and said in a choked voice, "I'm so frightened!" "I know, my love," the voice said. "I'm so sorry you were hurt." She felt herself being pulled up to him, his grip around her tight. It was a strange feeling in this pitch-black hallway, where not even the light of the moon cast any illumination. The lips she touched were cold and yet they responded to her with an unusual warmth. His hands massaged her back. Something, Melanie thought, was wrong with that. The hands were too smooth, not like a plastered wrist would feel. "Gary?" she asked, backing away. She didn't trust what she couldn't see. "My love," the voice whispered, "there is no need to fear now. I shall protect you from those who mean you harm. ↗

— Clare McNally

#crying #darkness #fear #fleeing #helplessness

I wish you couldn't figure me out, but you'd always want to know what I was about ↗

— Kate Nash

#mystery #love

How shall I typify what happened? Passion play? Somewhat. Weird tale? Indubitably. Horror story? Pretty close. Grotesque melodrama? Certainly. Black comedy? Your point of view will determine that. Perhaps it was a combination of them all... So, to the story. A chronicle of greed and cruelty, horror and rapacity, sadism and murder. Love, American style. ↗

— Richard Matheson

#love

And so back to Cassie: who was she? Part of the deception; just a friend or something else…perhaps it was time to find out. ↗

— Melanie Cusick-Jones

#love #mystery #love

Either I’ve got a wart on my nose they find curious, or I’ve grown a tail, Albie Merani muttered to himself. Just then he thought. I’d better get a move on, got work to do. He hurried across to some stairs, heading down deeper into station, then followed the signs to the pod station. ↗

— R.W. Rivers

#crime-fiction #crime-thriller #gold #love #mystery-thriller