c2p-cmd/Good-Quotes-Authors huggingface dataset:
A secret's only a secret as long as you keep it. Once you tell someone it loses all its power -- for good or ill -- like that, it's just another piece of information. But a real mystery can't be solved, not completely. It's always just out of reach, like a light around the corner; you might catch a glimpse of what it reveals, feel its warmth, but you can't know the heart of it, not really. That's what gives it value: It can't be cracked, it's bigger than you and me, bigger than everything we know.
— Mark Frost, The Secret History of Twin Peaks
Reaching the finish line isn't possible without beginning the first step of the journey. Start today, don't wait.
— M. Gail Grant, Magdalena Gottschalk: The Crooked Trail
The moment you awake ,you know the mystery of life.
— Lailah Gifty Akita
The mystery of life is the moment.
— Lailah Gifty Akita
It is a mystery,' said Detritus.Vimes grinned mirthlessly. It was a mystery. And he didn't like mysteries. Mysteries had a way of getting bigger if you didn't solve them quickly. Mysteries pupped.
— Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
The Writers curseWe have to writeWe have no choiceWe have stories to TELL
— Paul Barrell, Postcards From Pimlico
Use your little grey cells mon ami" (Hercule Poirot in 'The Mysterious Affair At Styles')
— - Agatha Christie
And how do you know that these fine begonias are not of equal importance?
— Agatha Christie, The Mysterious Affair at Styles
Everybody calls me "Marty." I never know what to call myself.
— Marty Rubin
If it is to be, it's up to me.
— Melba Moon
That's exactly where you're wrong! Any kind of person can murder. Purely circumstances and not a thing to do with temperament! People get so far -- and it takes just the least little thing to push them over the brink. Anybody. Even your grandmother. I know.
— Patricia Highsmith, Strangers on a Train
I had passed
—  I had become the thing that had happened to me.
I hadn't even solved the mystery of my own body.
— Benjamin Alire Sáenz, Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe
I remember when Elvis died. I wrote my sentiments with words of a little girl in my dear diary, "Many people wanted to see his body. They literally wanted to dig his bones out just to make sure that he was being buried. And I could not understand why. Why people could not leave him alone and let his soul rest in peace." I couldn't get it. I didn't grasp it at that time. In a head of a little girl it was hard to believe that there were mysteries to be solved. That there ruled a conspiracy theory that people thought it was odd that he was buried and the casket was never opened. They didn't believe he was dead! Oh yes. Elvis Lives! And as the world needs his songs, his words, his thoughts, his love, his light more than ever before.
— Ana Claudia Antunes, Mysterious Murder of Marilyn Monroe
I'm not paid to feel. Just fix."- Sydney Chang
— B.B. Cary, Sydney on Fire
She's a princess and you're a jock," he says. He thrusts his chin toward Bronwyn, then at Nate. "And you're a brain. And you're a criminal. You're all walking teen-movie stereotypes.
— Karen M. McManus, One of Us Is Lying
I am convinced now that the desert has no heart, that it presents a riddle which has no answer, and that the riddle itself is an illusion created by some limitation or exaggeration of the displaced human consciousness.
— Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire
Izzy felt as though she’d wandered into the third act of a play. She had no idea what was going on, but it was unbearably dramatic.
— Tessa Dare, Romancing the Duke
With her I'd buried myself, every memory of who I was now, six feet under with the sister I'd put there.
— Trisha Leaver, The Secrets We Keep
There are many good reasons for drinking, and one's just entered my head: If you don't drink when you're living, how the fuck can you drink when you're dead?
— Warren Ellis, Desolation Jones: Made in England
Even Asmodeus, that limping devil who looked through rooftops at men's most secret actions, could not have told which of these thoughts masked an undercurrent of joy -- the joy of the man who know that he has killed wisely and well.
— Anthony Boucher, The Case of the Baker Street Irregulars
Perfection isn't everything," she said as she turned and walked away. "I think the flaws are what make it perfect.
— Trisha Leaver, The Secrets We Keep
I'm already gone. I died that night on the side of that road with my sister.
— Trisha Leaver, The Secrets We Keep
My heart is an empty refrigerator.
— J.T. Lawrence, The Memory of Water
By the Valg, three were made,Of the gate-Stone of the Wyrd:Obsidian the gods forbadeAnd stone they greatly feared.In grief, he hid one in the crownOf her he loved so well,To keep with her where she lay downInside the starry cell.The second one was hiddenIn a mountain made of fire,Where all men are forbiddenDespite their great desires.Where the third liesWill never be toldBy voice or tongueOr sum of gold.
— Sarah J. Maas, Crown of Midnight
They forgot who she was: Something fantastic we could never explain. Someone better and bolder than every one of us. Someone to paint murals and build bridges for. Someone worth every ounce of our love. Someone powerful, but in the end not powerful enough.
— Nova Ren Suma, Imaginary Girls
How men fear the chaos of the world, I thought, and the yawning eternity hereafter. So we build patterns to explain its terrible mysteries and reassure ourselves we are safe in this world and beyond.
— C.J. Sansom, Dissolution
In mythic terms, the earth is a place of mystery and wonder where life always hangs by a thread and all the events of history are loosely stitched upon the endless loom of eternity. Secretly, we are each tied to the divine.
— Michael Meade, The Genius Myth
Keenness is dangerous but also rebirth of thought and mind. Complacency is the death of ideals. Always stay keen.
— Ursula Tillmann, Plato in the Mountains: It's All Greed to Me
There is enchantment in wondering...in seeing a beautiful portrait every now and then rather than an overabundance of the overexposed; I wanted the figure before me to remain a magnificent mystery, like any alluring woman is as the rarity of a thing is what makes it valuable, even an enigma, and when something or someone is that, they become captivating.
— Donna Lynn Hope
I don’t mind my friends calling me “Thornes,” but the fact of people calling me “Prickly Thornes” draws the line.
— Simi Sunny, The White Sirens
Chloe leans back in the leather recliner trying to recall the name of the person she murdered.
— Sandy Ward Bell, Bold
What if you weren't the person I hoped you were?That, more than anything, would have hurt the most.
— Jay Asher, Thirteen Reasons Why
I should never do anything pre-coffee. 'It was only a teeny fire,' I told my uncle over the phone.
— Cindy Brown, The Sound of Murder
I love going into another world, and I love mysteries. So I don't really like to know very much ahead of time. I like the feeling of dicovery.
— David Lynch, Catching the Big Fish: Meditation, Consciousness, and Creativity
I don’t know about you, but I’ve got plans for next Thursday. And I’m not in the mood to have them ruined by some apocalypse.
— Deborah Blake, Veiled Menace
For years she’d been the Central Gates Precinct’s Witness Retrieval Specialist – more commonly referred to as a “Ghost Yanker” by her non-magical colleagues on the force. Being stuck in the basement talking to dead victims would depress the hell out of anyone, if they did it for long enough.	Then, six months ago, everything changed.
— Deborah Blake, Veiled Menace
It's true, I'm impressed with myself, almost daily. If I don't impress myself then how am I ever to feel accomplished?" "Who cares if you impress others?" "Indeed. Others' opinions hardly matter, but one's own sense of accomplishment is paramount, is it not?
— Ridley Pearson, The Initiation
Everything breaks if you hit it hard enough.
— Hannah Tinti, The Twelve Lives of Samuel Hawley
2 Corinthians 11:14 And no marvel
—  for Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light.
Human consciousness is just about the last surviving mystery. A mystery is a phenomenon that people don't know how to think about - yet. There have been other great mysteries: the mystery of the origin of the universe, the mystery of life and reproduction, the mystery of the design to be found in nature, the mysteries of time, space and gravity. These were not just areas of scientific ignorance, but of utter bafflement and wonder. We do not yet have the final answers to any of the questions of cosmology and particle physics, molecular genetics and evolutionary theory, but we do know how to think about them. The mysteries haven't vanished, but they have been tamed. They no longer overwhelm our efforts to think about the phenomena, because now we know how to tell the misbegotten questions from the right questions, and even if we turn out to be dead wrong about some of the currently accepted answers, we know how to go about looking for better answers.With consciousness, however, we are still in a terrible muddle. Consciousness stands alone today as a topic that often leaves even the most sophisticated thinkers tongue-tied and confused. And, as with all the earlier mysteries, there are many who insist - and hope - that there will never be a demystification of consciousness.Mysteries are exciting, after all, part of what makes life fun. No one appreciates the spoilsport who reveals whodunit to the moviegoers waiting in line. Once the cat is out of the bag, you can never regain the state of delicious mystification that once enthralled you. So let the reader beware. If I succeed in my attempt to explain consciousness, those who read on will trade mystery for the rudiments of scientific knowledge of consciousness, not a fair trade for some tastes. Since some people view demystification as a desecration, I expect them to view this book at the outset as an act of intellectual vandalism, an assault on the last sanctuary of humankind. I would like to change their minds.
— Daniel Dennett
One must always proceed with method. I made an error of judgment asking you that question. Toeach man his own knowledge. You could tell me the details of the patient's physical appearance- nothing there would escape you. If I wanted information about the papers on the desk, Mr. Raymond would have noticed anything there was to see. To find out about the fire, I must ask the man whose business is to observe such things. - Detective Hercule Poirot to Doctor Sheppard
— Agatha Christie, The Murder of Roger Ackroyd
Art in the blood is liable to take the strongest forms
— Arthur Conan Doyle
Nothing is whole, not for too damned long. The world is half night.
— Peter Straub, Mystery
What had these people done to deserve a band of desperate rebels turning up on their doorsteps, and now more trouble! Yet, what had any of them done, what gods had they displeased to deserve the calamity that was the Romans?
— Margaret McGoverne, The  Battle of Watling Street
When you’retwenty-one, life is a roadmap.It’s only when you get to betwenty-five or so that youbegin to suspect you’ve beenlooking at the map upsidedown, and not until you’reforty are you entirely sure.
— Stephen King, Joyland
But sooner or later the last good time would come around. It does for all of us.
— Stephen King, Joyland
She looked beautiful,standing there barefoot in her faded jeans. I wanted to take her in my arms, and lift her, and carry her into some untroubled future.Instead, I left her where she was. That's not the world we live in, she'd said, and how right she was,
— Stephen King, Joyland
We're not quite ending where we began, but close enough.Close enough.
— Stephen King, Joyland
He stood at the entrance to the kitchen, blocking my path to the front door like the Berlin Wall. -- Least Wanted
— Debbi Mack, Least Wanted
I've never been a morning person, and if it's one thing I don't need before my first cup of coffee, it's a visit from the cops. But at eight forty-five on a Friday morning, two of them waited for me at my law office.
— Debbi Mack, Identity Crisis
A wise man once told me that mystery is the most essential ingredient of life, for the following reason: mystery creates wonder, which leads to curiosity, which in turn provides the ground for our desire to understand who and what we truly are.
— Mark Frost, The Secret History of Twin Peaks
He avoided small talk at the best of times and this, unquestionably, was a million horrific miles from the best of times.
— Jane Harper, The Dry
Mysteries precede humankind, envelop us and draw us forward into exploration and wonder. Secrets are the work of humankind, a covert and often insidious way to gather, withhold or impose power. Do not confuse the pursuit of one with the manipulation of the other.
— Mark Frost, The Secret History of Twin Peaks
There's a certain sort of a man whose every charm lies in his predictability.
— Louise Doughty, Apple Tree Yard
The sun appeared over the hillside. "I'm tired, Tom.""It's okay to go home,' he choked. "Hold my hand?"His arms tightened around her and his fingers interlaced with hers. She closed her eyes against the brightness. "I love you.""I love you too," he whispered. Jennifer died feeling the warmth of the rising sun
— Dee Henderson, The Healer
It must be every barrister's nightmare, something that finds him or her unprepared.
— Louise Doughty, Apple Tree Yard
Before we begin to investigate that, let us try to realize what we do know, so as to make the most of it, and to separate the essential from the accidental.
— Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventure of the Solitary Cyclist
Now, Watson," said he, "we have picked up two clues this morning. One is the bicycle with the Palmer tyre, and we see what that has led to. The other is the bicycle with the patched Dunlop. Before we start to investigate that, let us try to realize what we do know, so as to make the most of it, and to separate the essential from the accidental.
— Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventure of the Priory School
Her fingers clutched him now, and her body writhed with a frustration he knew all too well.	He wanted her.	Now.	Here.
— Madeline  Martin, Highland Spy
Everything is disproportionate in the middle of the night.
— Louise Doughty, Apple Tree Yard
For Elena Text fans, here is the the first paragraph of the press release which will be hitting the world's media in the days before the book launch on January 26, 017.The Elena Text: Explosive New Thriller, Hailed “Upmarket Dan Brown”, Excavates Delphi’s Most Secretive TreasureMeticulously researched and masterfully crafted by award-winning filmmaker, Martin Weitz, ‘The Elena Text: Ambition, Desire & Betrayal’ makes fact and fiction indistinguishable as it fuses a provocative, blistering thriller with the untold story of a closely-guarded secret unearthed at Delphi, Greece in the 1930s. But this isn’t just a story that exposes and unravels one of history’s most elusive and prized antiquities; it’s also an unorthodox journey into research on sexual orgasm and ecstasy, and its shocking links to prophetic teachings by the Greeks over three millennia ago. Intricate, intelligent and a new paradigm of historical fiction, it’s no wonder critics are hailing the volume as something even Dan Brown could never have conceived.
— Martin Weitz, The Elena Text
It's time the world knew what was really discovered at Delphi." says Dr Moses Frank, in The Elena Text. But who is Moses Frank and what was he referring to? The Elena Text is a controversial and provocative thriller set in the world of antiquities and archaeology, based around the untold story of what was really discovered at Delphi in Greece - but has remained a closely-guarded secret since the 1930s. In Moses Frank we have a character who single-handedly defines the extremities of recent times, the stateless survivor, against all the odds, the refugee turned millionaire, the entrepreneur who creates his own rules, a charming and educated artist with a first class degree from the university of life, a thinker but an unashamed money-maker and pleasure-seeker. Moses Frank is a man who can be forgiven almost anything because he is so hugely admired as a dealer, a canny sleuth who has tracked down the world’s greatest missing antiquities.But despite all his gifts and talents, Moses Frank is also a man bristling with self-doubt - searching endlessly for the finest examples of human art, the sensual peaks of female beauty and some thin slivers of meaning in his terribly successful life.I believe Frank is a rich, unpredictable and multi-facetted lead character who will continue to fascinate readers in volumes 2 and 3 of THE MOSES FRANK TRILOGY.
— Martin Weitz, The Elena Text
Two young adventurers for hire. Willing to do anything, go anywhere. Pay must be good. No reasonable offer refused.
— Agatha Christie, The Secret Adversary
In any story where solutions to mysteries are found, there should always be at least one mystery which remains unsolved.
— Sean Terrence Best
Life, like that water droplet, is everlasting and imperishable. There is only a transition, never an end !
— Rajib       Mukherjee, Partho, the Unconventional Investigator: The mystery of the missing bags
Authors always take rejection badly. They equate it with infanticide.
— P.D. James
The shriek cut thinly though the drizzling dimness, holding for a long moment. At last it broadened and dropped to the old.
— Natalie Babbitt
Listen to me very closely, Mr. Corvus. You must never, ever let a man disarm you. If a man can disarm you, he will take your life, as surely as you would snuff out a candle. Are you a candle, Mr. Corvus?
— Kyle Slade, All The King's Horses
Well, typically the state of hypnosis is perfected at the right combination of light and sound frequency when the mind completely relaxes. At this state, the mind also becomes highly suggestible, which means the word of the hypnotist becomes the new reality of the subconscious mind.
— Rajib       Mukherjee, Partho, the Unconventional Investigator: The mystery of the missing bags
To understand the new birth is to have a revelation of its mystery
— Sunday Adelaja
The German pilot had come up and was standing by smiling as Mr. Parker Pyne finished answering a long interrogation which he had not understood."What have I said?" he asked of the German"That your father's Christian name is Tourist, that your profession is Charles, that the maiden name of your mother is Baghdad, and that you have come from Harriet.
— Agath Christie
The dean put a finger to his chin as he studied this great and troubling mystery. The applicant’s response reeked of insincerity, like, “Have a nice day!” with all the friendly burned off. “Okay, Mr. Darlington. I’ll just be a minute.
— Michael Benzehabe
What really happened to JonBenet Ramsey? Was her death intentional or an accident, covered up to look like a botched kidnapping? What are the facts about the case DNA? What does it really tell us? Is it relevant to the crime or is it contamination? Can it be tied to an intruder, or was Mary Lacy’s attempt at exoneration of the Ramseys based on faulty interpretation of the actual lab results?“Listen Carefully: Truth and Evidence in the JonBenet Ramsey Case” contains 16 pages of explosive DNA reports from Bode Cellmark Forensics that had been hidden until recently, as well details of the 2013 shocking revelation John and Patsy Ramsey were indicted by a Grand Jury in 1999, but the district attorney declined to prosecute. Exposing the many myths and misrepresentations of facts in the Ramsey case, the book uses documented evidence and detailed research, as well as extensive interviews with many who were involved in the case, to present the truth surrounding JonBenet’s death and the 20-year investigation.With a thorough linguistic analysis of the ransom note, as well as handwriting comparisons, crime-scene photos, footnotes, a bibliography for further reading and five appendices (including timelines, Ramsey house plans, and a guide to understanding DNA), the book is essential for anyone interested not only what happened to JonBenet, but why.
— True Crime Detectives Guild
Make sure you wear something appropriate, dear. You never know who you’ll run into and it’s always smart to look your best.
— Joanne Fluke, Lemon Meringue Pie Murder
She skinned her hair back into a ponytail, a style she knew was probably too young for her, but she planned to drive with her windows open and she could ditch the elastic band once she got to the lake.
— Joanne Fluke, Lemon Meringue Pie Murder
I may like to be on my own, but I like being alive.
— Donna Grant, The Hero
Matthew would not like this, she had said. He would have liked it even less had he know how much Strike had liked it.
— Robert Galbraith, Career of Evil
At the heart of nature's mystery lies another mystery.
— Ransom Riggs, Hollow City
That's rather a broad idea," I remarked. "One's ideas must be as broad as Nature if they are to interpret Nature," he answered.
— Arthur Conan Doyle
The next time you come to the Cookie Jar, the coffee’s on me. You could probably bottle that stuff of yours and sell it for rat poison.
— Joanne Fluke
The so-called seven colours of the spectrum together go to make up what is known as light — what, in other words, the scientists say is no more than a mere fractional band in the whole range of electro-magnetic waves— the only section of the wave-range which the visual sense can directly grasp. Indeed each colour is experienced as a particular limitation of light: light itself appears to be a particular limitation of the electro- magnetic wave-range. So would the five senses seem to be five specific limitations of the infinite— five exclusive ways of screening off, of shutting out the rest. In fact, the "outer world", as known through the senses, seems to be conditioned by — shall one say our knowledge of it depends on —the limiting and sifting qualities of our five senses. By means of sifting and excluding, form could be said to be created from Chaos and thus our five senses are at the same time five creators and five ways of being partially blind. We live, as it were, in a cathedral with stained windows whose, to us, magnificent colour patterns let in a little of the light which the sun sheds indiscriminately outside. (1947)(Later addition:) But the "sun" would then stand for Chaos in our simile and how would that be wrong?
— Nanamoli Thera
Wait. Is a real, live adult person actually asking me details about the games I play? This is unheard of.
— Denis Markell, Click Here to Start
She tried to shriek for help, to cry out against the blinding agony, but her mouth wouldn’t open. The scream stalled in her throat and she gagged. Oh my God. She couldn’t move her lips. She couldn’t say one word.
— Meryl Sawyer, Half Moon Bay
The Shelly he knew had tried too hard to be sexy. This woman didn’t bother with make-up or fixing her hair. Yet she was damn near irresistible. For a second he imagined this babe chasing him around like Shelly had… and letting her catch him. He’d have that sundress off her in no time.
— Meryl Sawyer, Half Moon Bay
What is Life?(1) Tale told by an idiot full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.(2) Dictionary definition in biology (chemical process within organic entities involving metabolism etc.)(3) Mrs Woolf: ‘Life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding us from the beginning of consciousness to the end.’(4) Series of actual and hypothetical behavioural data which differ in certain assignable ways from data defining dead or inanimate entities.(5) That which the Lord infused into Adam. See Genesis 1. 4 [sc. 2. 7].Which?Mental Cramp.
— Isaiah Berlin
In the days before computers and emails,” she explained, “people used to write messages on paper and send them to each other using a fax machine. It’s sort of like sending a photograph through a telephone line. Hardly anyone uses a fax these days. They’re very old fashioned,” she continued, “but they used to be very popular once upon a time. Lots of little children used to send their letters to Santa that way.”  "Wow!” said Poppy Noodle. “That sounds like Magic.” “No,” answered Flora sharply. “That’s not Magic, that’s technology. Never confuse the two.
— Harald Davidson, Francesca Spaghetti and Poppy Noodle's Christmas Mystery: Funny Adventure Series for 7-11 Year Old Girls
This is an education on seduction,” Delilah said in a reverent tone…	Ariana let her gaze skim across the silk wall hangings and shrugged. “I’ve not ever kissed a man.” ... Truthfully, she had not. She’d been so fixed on her attempts to placate her parents in the hopes they might pay her the slightest bit of positive attention, she had not so much as considered kissing any man. 	Delilah’s fingers touched Ariana’s chin, feather light, and tilted her face toward hers. “It is the most delicious thing. Close your eyes and I will tell you of it.”	Obediently, Ariana closed her eyes, hoping if she did as she was told, the lesson would end sooner.	It was an awkward sensation to sit in the ridiculous pillow-laden room with one’s eyes closed.	“Relax,” Delilah said in a velvety tone. “Listen.”	Ariana let her muscles slacken.	“Imagine a man, tall and lean with muscle.” Delilah’s voice was quietly intimate. Hypnotic. “He’s staring at you as if you were the only women he’d ever seen. Truly seen. The only woman he’s ever wanted. The desire for you burning in his eyes.”	Hazel eyes rose to the forefront of Ariana’s mind, a sharp jaw shadowed with a day’s growth of beard.	Connor.	She swallowed.	“His arms come around you,” Delilah continued. “So strong, so warm. They offer you a protection unlike anything you’ve ever felt and make you wish you could melt into his embrace for the rest of your life.”	In Ariana’s mind, Connor’s arms wrapped around her. But she didn’t shy from his touch – she welcomed. It. The chill of the room ebbed into a pleasant heat.	“Your eyes meet. His fingers touch your face and his breath whispers over your lips. He lowers his head and you close your eyes just as his mouth touches yours, warm and demanding.”	Ariana’s heart quickened and her breathing went almost ragged. Her mouth was suddenly dry and she flicked her tongue over her lips.	“His body is a wall of strength against you, holding you upright, as your knees feel as though they will buckle. Then his tongue strokes yours, velvet fire and heady seduction.”	Ariana drew a shaky breath….
— Madeline  Martin, Highland Spy
He didn’t save women. He damned them.
— Madeline  Martin, Highland Spy
He poured a splash of liquid into a second cup. “Come in and warm yerself by the fire.”	Ariana walked deeper into the room, toward the glow of the hearth. It’s heat enveloped her skin and eased away the chill with such expediency, she almost sighed.	Connor appeared beside her with a metal cup extended. “I canna sleep often myself.”	She closed her fingers around the cool surface and glanced at the dark liquid within. A sharp scent hit her nostrils.	“Whisky,” Connor said.	He was perfection in the firelight. Shadows etched his jaw while the light softened his face, his lips. The powerful lines of his chest were visible at the neck of his leine, as well as a dark peppering of small curling black hairs.	“Whisky,” Ariana said with a forced stare at the cup instead of him. “Of course. I drink this all the time.”	“Aye, I knew that about ye. When I first saw ye, I thought, ‘Now there’s a lass who can handle her whisky.’” Connor winked at her with disarming playfulness. “It’ll do ye some good. Take off the chill and settle yer thoughts.”	“Why do you assume my thoughts are unsettled?” she asked.	He took a swallow from his cup. “Because sleep comes easily to those without weight on their minds.”	Ariana took a careful sip from her own cup, the way she’d seen men at the card tables drink. The liquid burned like sin down her throat and caught in her chest.	She gritted her teeth and swallowed hard several times to keep from sputtering.	Though she’d hoped to keep her reaction discreet, the grin on Connor’s face told her he saw through her guise.	“It’s good.” Her voice came out in a croak and Connor laughed. It was a warm, rich sound and she found it terribly pleasing.	His eyes crinkled. “Now that we’ve discovered yer love of whisky, why dinna ye tell me what’s got yer thoughts heavy?
— Madeline  Martin, Highland Spy
I canna let you die like Da,” he said softly.	“And yet ye canna let me live,” she replied.
— Madeline  Martin, Highland Spy
Her breathing came faster, evidenced by the repeated rapid swell of her breasts against the low-cut bodice.	Before he could let his thoughts circle around once more, he cupped the elegant line of her jaw in his palm.	Her eyes widened.	“Are you going to kiss me?” she whispered.	Instead of answering, he lowered his mouth to the luscious warmth of hers.
— Madeline  Martin, Highland Spy
It's amazing what the discovery of a corpse can do for one's spirits.
— Alan Bradley, Thrice the Brinded Cat Hath Mew'd
One of the earliest and most vivid memories of Robin’s childhood was of the day that the family dog had been put down. She herself had been too young to understand what her father was saying; she took the continuing existence of Bruno, her oldest brother’s beloved Labrador, for granted. Confused by her parents’ solemnity, she had turned to Stephen for a clue as to how to react, and all security had crumbled, for she had seen, for the first time in her short life, happiness and comfort drain out of his small and merry face, and his lips whiten as his mouth fell open. She had heard oblivion howling in the silence that preceded his awful scream of anguish, and then she had cried, inconsolably, not for Bruno, but for the terrifying grief of her brother.
— Robert Galbraith, The Cuckoo's Calling
The mystery is solved when you have become the mystery itself.
— Osho, Hsin Hsin Ming, the Book of Nothing: Discourses on the Faith Mind of Sosan
With the known, you simply repeat the process. With the unknown, you access the new doorways to life.
— Roshan Sharma
A tree.” She spotted one. It was hidden behind a much larger tree, its limbs misshapen in its attempt to fight for even a little sunlight in the shadow. “Dana has this tradition of giving a sad-looking tree the honor of being a Christmas tree.” She walked over to the small, nearly hidden tree. “I like this one. “It’s…”	He laughed. “Ugly?”	“No, it’s beautiful because it’s had a hard life. It’s struggled to survive against all odds and would keep doing that without much hope. But it has a chance to be something special.
— B.J. Daniels, Cardwell Christmas Crime Scene
Your mind is not part of the brain, but its part of the spirit. The appearance of the mind is like subtle clothing that covers the whole brain, heart and body, and all the images, thought process, feelings, emotions, dreams, desires, experience and impressions of life, take place, inside of that clothing.
— Roshan Sharma
You need to understand the inner flowing energy and the eternal truth, is revealed to you. This is the only mystery, cult, esoteric, elusive or magic of life exists in the universe.
— Roshan Sharma
With life, everything that’s needed to be known can be known by human. No mystery can be hidden from you if you really try to look into it.
— Roshan Sharma
I am a storyteller, spiraling fantasy and reality into mystical tales. That eerie space between fact and fiction, where only the brightest light can scare the shadows—you will find me there.
— Sara Frost
She had very much looked forward to a word in private with him. But she forgot, as she usually did, the silence that always came between them in these latter years, whenever they found themselves alone.The queer sensation in her chest, however, was all too familiar, that mix of pleasure and pain, never one without the other.She could have done without those feelings. She would have happily gone her entire life never experiencing the pangs of longing and the futility of regret. He made her human—or as human as she was capable of being. And being human was possibly her least favorite aspect of life.
— Sherry Thomas, A Study in Scarlet Women
Strange sounds, voices - A child's laughter heard through their mother's bedroom door. - The stories told at family gatherings. -Their mother's sometimes odd behaviour. - Twins Jahlil and Jahmeer, with the help of their uncle, a Philadelphia Detective, and a few friends, decide to find out what went on in the upstairs apartment where their mother lived as a young child. They are determined to discover the mystery behind The House On Galloway Rd that has continually traumatized their mother.
— Adele Frances, The House On Galloway RD
He locked gazes with her. “I have to wonder why you aren’t being straight with me. I hate getting myself killed without knowing why.
— B.J. Daniels, Cardwell Christmas Crime Scene
He’d been trying to save this woman in his dreams for years. Now here she was, all grown up, and he still felt helpless.
— B.J. Daniels, Cardwell Christmas Crime Scene
He started for his office, but something was bothering him. Turning back to her, he said, “I have to know. DJ walks in and you instantly like her. You’ve never liked any of the women I’ve dated, and you’ve never done more than share a few words with them on the phone. What is different about this one?” he demanded, trying to keep his voice down.	Marge smiled. “You’ll remember this one’s name.
— B.J. Daniels, Cardwell Christmas Crime Scene
I want to die.”	May shook her head. “Let me get a knife.”	“I’ve made a horrible mess of things.”	“Haven’t we all? If you don’t want your supper burned, die quietly while I get back to the kitchen.
— B.J. Daniels, Cardwell Christmas Crime Scene
You’re a real cowboy.”
— He laughed. “You’re just now realizing that?
DJ saw the change in his expression the moment before he dropped the ax, reached out with his gloved hand and, cupping her neck, drew her to him. “I believe you owe me a kiss.
— B.J. Daniels, Cardwell Christmas Crime Scene
I reckon it’s true what they say that good begets good and bad begets bad. The evil men do lives on after them, but what good they done gets buried with their bones.
— Lisa Kaye Presley, The Judgment
Death is not friendly. It's dark, black where you look at it. You're all alone. But it's no different when you're alive, right? No matter how many relationships we seem to have, we're all alone. - Misaki Mei
— Yukito Ayatsuji
There was no mistaking her daughter's handwriting. And the words... "If you're reading this, I'm already dead.
— Elizabeth Heiter, Stalked
Whiteness of moonlight builds a house that is not there
— Kathleen Raine
You're overconfident, mysterious, dark, picky, edgy, cold and have sixty-nine more faults. That's why you're perfect.
— TheDauntlessReader
Our highest assurance of the goodness of Providence seems to me to rest in the flowers. All other things, our powers, our desires, our food, are all really necessary for our existence in the first instance. But this rose is an extra. It's smell and it's color are an embellishment of life, not a condition of it. It is only goodness which gives extras, and so I say again that we have much to hope from the flowers.
— Arthur Conan Doyle, The Naval Treaty
Winston Breen was solving a puzzle, but then Winston Breen was always solving a puzzle.
— Eric Berlin, The Puzzling World of Winston Breen
To my editors, I graciously thank you. I now know “is” and “was” aren't the same thing. It's the periods and commas that got me. Can't see the darn things.
— S.N. Deinscheiss, Wuwpoo
But like so many others nowadays, poor Julian wanted to believe that man's life is profoundly more significant than it is. His sickness was the sickness of our age. We want so much not to be extinguished at the end that we will go to any length to make conjuror-tricks for one another simply to obscure the bitter, secret knowledge that it is our fate not to be.
— Gore Vidal, Julian
Who hides a ring? Who sets up this whole cockamamie production with puzzle pieces and treasure hunts and who knows what else over a ring?
— Eric Berlin, The Puzzling World of Winston Breen
She was our guardian angel. Lucy saved us from mystery. Without her, our marriage would be ruined. Her disappearance created an open wound that we can't fix but the most devasting reality is probably the fact that her body will never be found. She is a living ghost in Wilmington, North Carolina.
— Chloé Danielo
You have blotted out the past for me, you know, far more effectively than all the bright lights of Monte Carlo. But for you I should have left long ago, gone to Italy, and Greece, and further still perhaps. You have spared me all those wanderings.
— Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca
The tone of his remarks filled me with a burning desire to kick Mr. Horridge; but that being impracticable, I should certainly, if left to myself, have told him to go to the devil and forthwith walked out of the house.
— R. Austin Freeman, The Penrose Mystery
Great detectives are extremely rare. I believe they are the products of thousands of years of evolution. Their abilities to perceive and understand cannot be learned or taught. We can only wait for them to appear. It is unfortunate they are so few, and even more tragic that fewer still ever find their way into police work.
— Laurence Giliotti, Gambrelli and the Prosecutor
In this world, there are only 'things that seem like the truth' and 'things that seem like rumors - A-ya
— Suzumu, 終焉の栞 [Shuuen no Shiori]
My hobby is to make up these "false stories". The stories that I create impact the public in a completely different form... It's enjoyable when it proceeds just as I expect it to. - A-ya
— Suzumu, 終焉の栞 [Shuuen no Shiori]
...Yes... I am perfect. A perfect 'impostor'. B-ko
— Suzumu, 終焉の栞 [Shuuen no Shiori]
Many believe that the Vatican withheld important parts of the Third Secret, perhaps because its contents were too dangerous to reveal...
— Peter J. Tanous, The Secret of Fatima
Love is hope and expectation. If many want to pencil it in, some don’t dare to ink it in, because love also means mystery and enigma. ( " Love as dizzy as a cathedral")
— Erik Pevernagie
Mathematics is one of the major modern mysteries. Perhaps it is the leading one, occupying a place in our society similar to the religious mysteries of another age. If we want to know something about what our age is all about, we should have some understanding of what mathematics is, and of how the mathematician operates and thinks.
— Mortimer J. Adler, How to Read a Book: The Classic Guide to Intelligent Reading
No matter how much he denied his attraction to her, those red curls haunted his dreams like brilliant flames that couldn't be extinguished...	"Fuirich air falbh on teine," he said under his breath, but loud enough for her to hear. Stay away from the fire.
— Victoria  Roberts, Snakes in the Garden
Books make such good friends and quiet neighbors.
— Catriona McPherson, Quiet Neighbors
In my criminal work anything that wears skirts is a lady, until the law proves her otherwise. From the frayed and slovenly petticoats of the woman who owns a poultry stand in the market and who has grown wealthy by selling chickens at twelve ounces to the pound, or the silk sweep of Mamie Tracy, whose diamonds have been stolen down on the avenue...
— Mary Roberts Rinehart, The Window at the White Cat
I wondered if, by the time we'd been together as long as Phèdre and Joscelin, I'd be able to predict her reactions. I wasn't sure I would.I wasn't sure I wanted to, either.
— Jacqueline Carey, Kushiel's Justice
Did you fall asleep?""No. I couldn't sleep that night.""You were restless?""I was thinking of you."The answer almost unmanned me. Something in the tone, even more than in the words, went straight to my heart. It was only after pausing a little first that I was able to go on.
— Wilkie Collins, The Moonstone
And as he sat upon the Mount of Olives, the disciples came unto him privately, saying, 'Tell us, when shall these things be? And what shall be the sign of thy coming, and of the end of the world?
— Peter J. Tanous, The Secret of Fatima
Too often the mentally ill are marginalized as people who just can’t pull up their socks. If only it were that simple.
— Suzanne F. Kingsmill, Crazy Dead
Every fairy tale needs a good old-fashioned villain.
— Moriarty
Because you can't be as in love as we were and not have it invade your bone marrow. Our kind of love can go into remission, but it's always waiting to return. Like the world's sweetest cancer.
— Gillan Flynn, Gone Girl
You are hiding something from me, I say and Sidney Grice shakes his head. 'No,' he tells me quietly. 'I am hiding a great many things'.
— M.R.C. Kasasian, Death Descends on Saturn Villa
We do not serve spirits to the ladies.''As you have probably guessed, I am not a lady
— M.R.C. Kasasian, Death Descends on Saturn Villa
Her eyes filled. "He forgot my birthday, two weeks ago," she said. "It was the first one he had ever forgotten, in nineteen of them." Nineteen! Nineteen from thirty-five leaves sixteen!
— Mary Roberts Rinehart, The Window at the White Cat
Where are your clothes? And do not pretend you do not know. I can accept that you may not know if you killed a man, but every girl always knows where her clothes are.
— M.R.C. Kasasian, Death Descends on Saturn Villa
Curiosity is the offspring of mystery. For without mystery there be no need for curiosity. Curiosity is the search for the things that can be, it is the inspiration of the true adventurer.
— Paul Bamikole
Lucy, you're as transparent as a pane of glass, and there's not a speck of guile to be seen in you. Yet in a way you're a mystery to me.
— Madeleine Brent, Moonraker's Bride
From now on, it is our task to suspect each and everyone amongst us. Forewarned is forearmed. Take no risks and be alert to danger. That is all.
— Agatha Christie, And Then There Were None
Think what it would be like if you got back to your island and there was no old man, no girl any more. No mysterious fun and games. The whole place locked up forever.
— John Fowles, The Magus
Whoever had said that appearances were deceiving was only partially right
—  they could also be deadly.
It could have been worse. He could have said he wasn't a 'dessert person' and then I would have been forced to jump out of a moving car.
— Saba Kapur, Lucky Me
Terrible fires resemble terrible people. They are unpredictable. They are selfish. they are deadly and ruinous. And no matter where they are prowling, no matter what treachery they are cooking up, they have something in common. They can be stopped.
— Lemony Snicket, Shouldn't You Be in School?
Humans are the mystery of the universe.
— Gabriella Jording
The commonest thing is delightful if only one hides it.
— Oscar Wilde
It was a puzzle, a dark and lonely one, and if I were a piece in this puzzle, I did not know where it belonged. I needed to put myself aside, just for a little while, until I saw where I might fit in.
— Lemony Snicket, When Did You See Her Last?
Three kilometres beneath the camp, sub-glacial Lake Ellsworth, and whatever secret it may hold, is sealed within a frozen tomb.
— L.A. Larkin, Devour
A killer on the payroll isn't good for business
— L.A. Larkin, Devour
When the lights suddenly go out, hold onto your diamonds for dear life. - Nancy Drew, The Mystery of Lilac Inn
— Carolyn Keene
Maggie Dove wanted to be a beacon of light. She dreamed of being the sort of person who made others laugh, calmed crying babies, soothed wild dogs, inspired hopefulness.
— Susan Breen
I promise it'll only hurt half as much as I wish it would." The words came out as smooth and sweet as if she'd just told him that mint chocolate chip was the best flavor ice cream ever.
— Avery Flynn, Brazen
We are unique not by comparison but by compassion (the moral of my book The Cheetah and the Snail)
— Shriram
A memory can taint your dreams
— Abilash Balan, En Route Goa: A Memory Can Taint Your Dreams
Scent of old books a mystery
—  a secret port of the dreamers.
It will take some time to adjust, but I promise you, this will be a real adventure for all of us.
— Jessica Haight and Stephanie Robinson
Excuse me, Tex," the nurse said, hands on hips. 'Would you mind reining in the voice. There are babies being born in this hospital. We wouldn't want the first sound they hear to be your painful howling. There could be lawsuits.
— Eoin Colfer, Half-Moon Investigations
Imagine a place where the dead rest on shelves like books.
— Victoria Schwab, The Archived
You still awake?' asked the anesthetist.'Nope,' I replied.
— Eoin Colfer, Half-Moon Investigations
I don't remember Sherlock Holmes ever mentioning what you are supposed to do when you've eliminated everything improbable, and nothing is left.
— Donnie Eichar, Dead Mountain: The Untold True Story of the Dyatlov Pass Incident
Morning, ma'am. I'm looking for Tommy Mason. Is he around?" Polite and professional, that was Senior Agent Broussard."Lord, what's that no-good sonofabitch done now? Wait, you ain't a cop; you're a game warden. "What'd he do, run over a fish?
— Susannah Sandlin, Wild Man's Curse
And many false prophets shall rise, and shall deceive many.
— Peter J. Tanous
Looking at the Blessed Mother, Kevin felt the pull of a special allegiance with her. To Serve God, to honor Mary who speaks to my soul, sending me messages I cannot know the meaning of? Is this what my life is about?
— Peter J Tanous
Heresy would like to think of itself as 'invented Truth'. But of course, all Reason and Logic would agree that no man can ever create Truth; he can only discover it. If heresy were ever at all beneficial, God would use it really to bring one right back to Truth, as countless 'inventions' have brought men to discovery.
— Criss Jami
People are mystery as far you go deeper as more mystery you can find. New generation, new tricks, new misteries, new problems... people are hard to be understand as deeper you go as more missunderstand the stuff.
— Deyth Banger
Zig´s snores went from cute fluttery noises to full out audio warfare
— Rhys Ford, Fish Stick Fridays
She held out a small voice recorder. 'By the way, could you describe exactly how you felt at the moment of impact? I'm writing this short story--''Put that away, Hazel,' hissed Mam. 'The poor boy is in pain.'Hazel persisted. 'Would that be a white-hot pain? Or more of a dull throbbing pain?
— Eoin Colfer
I stood on the outside of disaster, looking in.
— Dick Francis
The misbegotten town of Whistlebrass is hidden away in a forgotten corner of northern Vermont like a guilty secret or a bloody knife buried under the floorboards.
— Jack Keely, The Whistlebrass Horror
I don't believe in monsters.""Well, Red, I think you might want to start." Pike turned and looked him in the eye. "What do you think those green things were? And what do you think is trying to smash its way in here? A pony?
— Jack Keely, The Whistlebrass Horror
The ways of heaven are dark and intricate;Puzzled in mazes, and perplext with errors.
— Joseph Addison, Cato: A Tragedy and Selected Essays
Rachel slid inside her silver Kia and slammed the car door, grateful that the museum’s security guard was now watching from a distance. If he hadn’t been, she might have acted on a homicidal impulse and run Chase over, the manipulative jerk. In fact, it made her feel better just to imagine it.
— Kaylin McFarren, Severed Threads
Calvi was sobbing. This couldn't be! A moment ago the Pope was healthy, smiling. How could His Holiness be no longer? Only a month into his papacy!
— Peter J. Tanous, The Secret of Fatima
Whatever was in that document had caused the death of the leader of the Catholic Church. Who'd be next? Calvi shuddered. His life's work was safe-guarding this document. Whatever its purpose or mystery, it was his solemn and sole mission to protect it. Even if it meant giving up his life for it.
— Peter J. Tanous, The Secret of Fatima
The pope was lying fully stretched out on the floor, his body half-obscured by Cardinal Villot, who was leaning over him. Calvi's heart jumped into his throat. The pontiff 's eyes were shut, his face distorted in pain. He wasn't breathing. He was life-less, drained of color.
— Peter J. Tanous, The Secret of Fatima
Passion is such a stronge emotion that it dominates everything. It's like a strong spice in a meal, or a dominant red in a painting. Your senses are drawn to it at the expense of everything else. Dominic and I were not physical friends, so to speak. But I did love him. We can't help loving the people we do, can we? But the love doesn't have to be physical. You can be equally intimate. It doesn't matter.
— James Runcie, Sidney Chambers and the Shadow of Death