#mystery

I cannot forecast to you the action of Russia. It is a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma. ↗

— Winston Churchill

#mystery #politics #life

Indignation is often the best defense. ↗

— Diane Capri

#funny #justice-series #mystery #suspense #funny

The moment at which music reveals its true nature is contained in the ancient exercise of the theme with variations. The complete mystery of music is explained right there. ↗

— Pierre Schaeffer

#complete #complete mystery #contained #exercise #explained

The great mystery of our consciousness is beyond our grasp. ↗

— William Shatner

#consciousness #grasp #great #mystery #our

Oh Moon, sweet, sweet Moon, I want to be naked on you. I want to be like a flower growing on your surface, unique and mysterious, at home in the wonder of you, as if my naked body would be something growing out of your soil, something precious, a lovely gift on your landscape. ↗

— James Lusarde

#mystery #wonder #yearning #home

As Emmanuel, Cardinal Suhard says, "To be a witness does not consist in engaging in propaganda, nor even in stirring people up, but in being a living mystery. It means to live in such a way that one's life would not make sense if God did not exist. ↗

— Madeleine L'Engle

#living #mystery #witness #art

We are the inheritors of a wonderful world, a beautiful world, full of life and mystery, goodness and pain. But likewise are we the children of an indifferent universe. We break our own hearts imposing our moral order on what is, by nature, a wide web of chaos. ↗

— Colin Meloy

#mystery #philosophy #beauty

Everything changed, and eleven months later, here I was in the middle of the night with a gungho major, playing secret agent, hoping some Frenchie didn't put a bullet in my skull before I gave the Germans and Italians their chance. ↗

— James R. Benn

#world-war- #change

Every great day has a story and a song! ↗

— Faith Reese Martin

#courage #fantasy #friendship #historical-fiction #lost-colony

The blood dried on his good hand, he passed his palm over her hair. It curled about his wrist and sprung back into displace as the breeze fluttered by. In the firelight, it was golden like the dandelions of which she’d spoken. The ones that had grown along the Franklin riverbank in late summer. The ones he had lost any faith in since he’d committed his first murder there. ↗

— V.S. Carnes

#love #murder #mystery #romance #faith