The Bermuda Triangle got tired of warm weather. It moved to Alaska. Now Santa Claus is missing.

To the lover of wilderness, Alaska is one of the most wonderful countries in the world.

I have been in meetings where a head of state will say, ‚I like your tie,‘ to a man… or, ‚I like your country because the weather’s good,‘ or whatever. So for me, the pins in some ways were openers.

In writing, I apply my feminine side and respect the mystery involved in creation.

The more unintelligent a man is, the less mysterious existence seems to him.

I love artists like Prince, who hold on to that element of mystery.

I’ve lived in good climate, and it bores the hell out of me. I like weather rather than climate.

It’s a mystery. That’s the first thing that interests me about the idea of God. If there is one, it’s mysterious and powerful and awesome to even consider the concept, and you have to take it seriously.

I’m not a good storm-outer… because I forget stuff.

It is the flash which appears, the thunderbolt will follow.

The supernatural is the natural not yet understood.

The reproduction of mankind is a great marvel and mystery. Had God consulted me in the matter, I should have advised him to continue the generation of the species by fashioning them out of clay.

I don’t think that faith, whatever you’re being faithful about, really can be scientifically explained. And I don’t want to explain this whole life business through truth, science. There’s so much mystery. There’s so much awe.

What a nice night for an evening.

Conversation about the weather is the last refuge of the unimaginative.

All the world lies warm in one heart, yet the Sierra seems to get more light than other mountains. The weather is mostly sunshine embellished with magnificent storms, and nearly everything shines from base to summit – the rocks, streams, lakes, glaciers, irised falls, and the forests of silver fir and silver pine.

London is too full of fogs and serious people. Whether the fogs produce the serious people, or whether the serious people produce the fogs, I don’t know.

What constitutes a real, live human being is more of a mystery than ever these days, and men each one of whom is a valuable, unique experiment on the part of nature are shot down wholesale.

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.

There is no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.

Women. They are a complete mystery.

Faith minus vulnerability and mystery equals extremism. If you’ve got all the answers, then don’t call what you do ‚faith.‘

Democracy is only a dream: it should be put in the same category as Arcadia, Santa Claus, and Heaven.

No matter what, I always make it home for Christmas. I love to go to my Tennessee Mountain Home and invite all of my nieces and nephews and their spouses and kids and do what we all like to do – eat, laugh, trade presents and just enjoy each other… and sometimes I even dress up like Santa Claus!

The Edge… there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over.

To me, ideology is corrupt; it’s a parasite on religious structures. To be an ideologue is to have all of the terrible things that are associated with religious certainty and none of the utility. If you’re an ideologue, you believe everything that you think. If you’re religious, there’s a mystery left there.

Curiosity is lying in wait for every secret.

Happiness is a mystery, like religion, and should never be rationalised.

Mystery creates wonder and wonder is the basis of man’s desire to understand.

Still round the corner there may wait, A new road or a secret gate.

The secret of my influence has always been that it remained secret.

You can’t get too much winter in the winter.

The only secrets are the secrets that keep themselves.

I have always loved blizzards, if only because of the driving experience – which is definitely an acquired taste.

Life is a succession of lessons which must be lived to be understood. All is riddle, and the key to a riddle is another riddle.

It was the experience of mystery – even if mixed with fear – that engendered religion.

I was one of the wildest Santa Clauses they ever had.

The weather and my mood have little connection. I have my foggy and my fine days within me; my prosperity or misfortune has little to do with the matter.

I agree with people like Richard Dawkins that mankind felt the need for creation myths. Before we really began to understand disease and the weather and things like that, we sought false explanations for them. Now science has filled in some of the realm – not all – that religion used to fill.

Lightning is something which, again, we would rather avoid.

Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead.

Nature is wont to hide herself.

For me, time is the greatest mystery of all. The fact is that we’re dreaming all the time. That’s what really gets me. We have a fathomless lake of unconsciousness just beneath our skulls.

If you saw a heat wave, would you wave back?

The face of a lover is an unknown, precisely because it is invested with so much of oneself. It is a mystery, containing, like all mysteries, the possibility of torment.

Many admire, few know.

It is always the unreadable that occurs.

I find in my poetry and prose the rhythms and imagery of the best – I mean, when I’m at my best – of the good Southern black preachers. The lyricism of the spirituals and the directness of gospel songs and the mystery of blues are in my music or in my poetry and prose, or I missed everything.

I was enjoying myself writing, because I don’t know what’s going to happen when I take a ride around that corner. You don’t know at all what you’re going to find there. That can be thrilling when you read a book, especially when you’re a kid and you’re reading stories.

‚Mystic River‘ just smelled interesting to me. So I read it and liked it right away. Even the dialogue in it was great.

The first step towards vice is to shroud innocent actions in mystery, and whoever likes to conceal something sooner or later has reason to conceal it.

A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other.

How great is the mystery of the first cells which were one day animated by the breath of our souls! How impossible to decipher the welding of successive influences in which we are forever incorporated! In each one of us, through matter, the whole history of the world is in part reflected.

A box without hinges, key, or lid, yet golden treasure inside is hid.

The long, dull, monotonous years of middle-aged prosperity or middle-aged adversity are excellent campaigning weather for the devil.

The undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveler returns.

Our existence is beyond our explanation, whether we believe in God or we have religion or we’re atheist. Our existence is beyond our understanding. No one has an answer.

The union of the Word and the Mind produces that mystery which is called Life… Learn deeply of the Mind and its mystery, for therein lies the secret of immortality.

I’m leaving because the weather is too good. I hate London when it’s not raining.

Thaw with her gentle persuasion is more powerful than Thor with his hammer. The one melts, the other breaks into pieces.

The greatest delight which the fields and woods minister is the suggestion of an occult relation.