Top 1200 Mystery Of Love Quotes & Sayings - Page 19

Metaphor is the only possible language available to religion because it alone is honest about Mystery.

We must be willing to fail and to appreciate the truth that often "Life is not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be lived.

Through sports a coach can offer a boy a secret way to sneak up on the mystery that is manhood.

It is a universal condition of the enjoyable that the mind must believe in the existence of a law, and yet have a mystery to move about in.

I would hate to be that person who is, you know, the mystery writer who has to deliver a book every year to publisher X.

The main business of a lawyer is to take the romance, the mystery, the irony, the ambiguity out of everything he touches.

It's not as though I decided to sit down and write a mystery novel so I could capitalize on my parents' success.

I hope I have helped to raise the profile of science and to show that physics is not a mystery but can be understood by ordinary people.

I'm just wowed by the universe. I'm just glad to do something I love to do. I love color, I love painting, I love shapes, I love composition, I love the people around me. I'm adoring it all. My legacy is in the hands of other people.

I love the night passionately. I love it as I love my country, or my mistress, with an instinctive, deep, and unshakeable love. I love it with all my senses: I love to see it, I love to breathe it in, I love to open my ears to its silence, I love my whole body to be caressed by its blackness. Skylarks sing in the sunshine, the blue sky, the warm air, in the fresh morning light. The owl flies by night, a dark shadow passing through the darkness; he hoots his sinister, quivering hoot, as though he delights in the intoxicating black immensity of space.

Human consciousness is too obscure a mystery to itself for us to script our own lives.

If you're being ignored, that's a good time to concentrate on finding yourself and creating your own mystery.

The Pleading of the Summer - That other Prank - of Snow - That Cushions Mystery with Tulle, For fear the Squirrels - know.

People love my collard greens. They love my macaroni and cheese. They love the gumbo. They love my Jamaican jerk or my Jamaican curry chicken. They love the jerk, though. And they love my Mexican food.

I'd love to go back to Broadway; I'd love to do animation; I'd love to do hair and make-up campaigns because I love hair and makeup - and, I'd love to do film. I mean, there are a lot of doors I'd love to open up!

But the higher a man mounts, the greater may be his fall; all genius is a conquering of chaos, mystery.

The most courageous thing we will ever do is to bear humbly the mystery of our own reality.

Grieve not because thou understand-not life's mystery; behind the veil is concealed many a delight.

Authentic faith leads us to treat others with unconditional seriousness and to a loving reverence for the mystery of the human personality. Authentic Christianity should lead to maturity, personality, and reality. It should fashion whole men and women living lives of love and communion. False, manhandled religion produces the opposite effect. Whenever religion shows contempt or disregards the rights of persons, even under the noblest pretexts, it draws us away from reality and God.

We don't have an explanation for everything that happens. We don't control almost anything. And if we are not open to that mystery, life becomes so small.

There is always a pleasure in unravelling a mystery, in catching at the gossamer clue which will guide to certainty.

Novels shouldn’t aspire to answer questions, and I wouldn’t presume to offer advice about love or marriage in any case. What’s fascinating to me about marriage as a subject for fiction—a subject that fiction has taken on with gusto since the 19th century—is how unknowable other people’s relationships are. Even the marriages of your parents, your siblings, your closest friends always remain something of a mystery. Only in fiction can you pretend to know people completely.

To know the whole world is nothing when it is compared to knowing your own inner mystery of life.

There should be a drama series about women trying to figure out their mystery leg bruises.

Beauty should be shared for it enhances our joys. To explore its mystery is to venture towards the sublime.

Maybe it's true what Thomas Moore said: “It is only through mystery and madness that the soul is revealed.

It's the great mystery of human life that old grief passes gradually into quiet tender joy.

Distress at losing an object can be as much a frustration at the intellectual mystery of the disappearance as about the loss itself.

Writing should be an adventure, shrouded in mystery and uncertainty, blessed with amazing grace. In theory, of course

The problem for most of us is that the cup has holes, so love goes out just as easily as it goes in. What happens when people are living in the unconditional state of love, however, is that they recognize they are the ocean of love; they know it's their essence. And they naturally overflow in this love. So instead of being love beggars, they become love philanthropists.

Religion points to that area of human experience where in one way or another man comes upon mystery as a summons to pilgrimage.

Judaism is interesting in that there is something there that I think you just can't understand if you're not a Jew - it moves into a realm of true mystery.

Time is still the great mystery to us. It is no more than a concept; we don't know if it even exists.

Music is a labyrinth with no beginning and no end, full of new paths to discover, where mystery remains eternal

I thought it would be quite a challenge to direct a mystery thriller. I hadn't really done something like that.

The kiss was innocent--innocent enough--but it was also full of something not unlike what Virginia wants from London, from life; it was full of a love complex and ravenous, ancient, neither this nor that. It will serve as this afternoon's manifestation of the central mystery itself, the elusive brightness that shines from the edges of certain dreams; the brightness which, when we awaken, is already fading from our minds, and which we rise in the hope of finding, perhaps today, this new day in which anything might happen, anything at all.

If the tonal predominates, which we see now more in the world, there's no mystery - understanding of consciousness or awareness.

The members of the Mystery school, during the time of Atlantis, had psychically seen the subsequent ages of darkness.

There is a power in the soul, quite separate from the intellect, which sweeps away or recognizes the marvelous, by which God is felt. Faith stands serenely far above the reach of the atheism of science. It does not rest on the wonderful, but on the eternal wisdom and goodness of God. The revelation of the Son was to proclaim a Father, not a mystery. No science can sweep away the everlasting love which the heart feels, and which the intellect does not even pretend to judge or recognize.

It is impossible to meditate on time and the mystery of nature without an overwhelming emotion at the limitations of human intelligence.

Gratitude is the creative force, the mother and father of love. It is in gratitude that real love exists. Love expands only when gratitude is there. Limited love does not offer gratitude. Limited love is immediately bound by something- by constant desires or constant demands. But when it is unlimited love, constant love, then gratitude comes to the fore. This love becomes all gratitude.

I am in Love with Love and Love is in love with me. My body is in Love with the soul and the soul is in Love with my body. I opened my arms to Love and Love embraced me like a lover.

First of all, let us try to know what love is. If love means to possess someone or something, then that is not real love, not pure love. If loves means to give oneself, to become one with everything and everyone, then that is real love. Real love is total oneness with the object loved and with the Possessor of love.

In terms of publicity and interviews, well, it's really hard in this modern world to keep a sense of mystery.

Mystery causes a mental itch, which the brain tries to soothe with the balm of reasonable talk.

There is much more mystery in the shadow of a man walking on a sunny day, than in all religions of the world.

I think if you're an interesting person, you don't have to cloud yourself in mystery for people to want to know more about you.

Whether anyone has ever changed their mind as a result of a celebrity endorsement of a candidate is a bit of a mystery.

shadows of love, inebriations of love, foretastes of love, trickles of love, but never yet the one true love.

The legal system is often a mystery, and we, its priests, preside over rituals baffling to everyday citizens.

I love wisdom. And you can never be great at anything unless you love it. Not be in love with it, but love the thing, admire the thing. And it seems that if you love the thing, and you don't just want to possess it, it will find you. But if you're in love with the thing, it may run like hell away from you.

I feel awed by the mystery of being both so finite and yet so infinite, so much and so little, so conscious and yet, so coincidental.

Such days of autumnal decline hold a strange mystery which adds to the gravity of all our moods.

The purpose of science is not to cure us of our sense of mystery and wonder, but to constantly reinvent and reinvigorate it.

Unconditional love really exists in each of us. It is part of our deep inner being. It is not so much an active emotion as a state of being. It's not 'I love you' for this or that reason, not 'I love you if you love me.' It's love for no reason, love without an object.

Why are we reading, if not in hope of beauty laid bare, life heightened and its deepest mystery probed?

There is something to mystery. You make up this entire world that you fit into because of what the actual music does to you.

Love, I would later conclude, was all things to all people. Love was the breaking and healing of hearts. Love was misunderstood, love was faith, love was the promise of now that became hope for the future. Love was a rhythm, a resonance, a reverberation. Love was awkward and foolish, it was aggressive and simple and possessed of so many indefinable qualities it could never be conveyed in language. Love was being. The same gravity that relentlessly pulled at me was defied as I rose into something that became everything.

I am addicted to poetry, but the truth is I cannot pass up a good hard-boiled mystery.

That softness around your eyes, a softness in your face. Almost the way you feel when you’re about to start crying. That, to me, is love. It can be romantic love, it can be friendship love, it can be family love, it can be love for a chipmunk. It can be love for anything.