Mystery is in the morning, and mystery in the night, and the beauty of mystery is everywhere.
Things that are mysterious are not yet miracles.
There is, one knows not what sweet mystery about this sea, whose gently awful stirrings seems to speak of some hidden soul beneath.
The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible.
Mystery is delightful, but unscientific, since it depends upon ignorance.
Love is a greater mystery than death.
Life’s a mystery, isn’t it? People who try and plan it inevitably end up disappointed.
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore.
It is a great thing if you can persuade people that they are somehow or other partakers in a mystery. It makes them feel bigger.
I had long since given up trying to extract from a woman as it were the square root of her unknown quantity, the mystery of which a mere introduction was generally enough to dispel.[Mais j’avais depuis longtemps cessé de chercher à extraire d’une femme comme la racine carrée de son inconnu, lequel ne résistait pas souvent à une simple présentation.]
As a rule, the more bizarre a thing is the less mysterious it proves to be. It is your commonplace, featureless crimes which are really puzzling, just as a commonplace face is the most difficult to identify.
All those who try to unveil the mysteries always have tragic lives. At the end they are always punished.