Mystery is a word with no objective pertinence, merely describing the limitations of a mind. In fact, a mind may be classified by the order of the phenomena it considers mysterious.… The mystery is resolved, the solution made known. “Of course, it is obvious!” comes the chorus. A word about the obvious: it is always obvious.… The common mind transposed the sequence, letting the mystery generate the solution. This is logic in reverse; actually the mystery relates to the solution as the foam relates to the beer.…

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

You must not know too much or be too precise or scientific about birds and trees and flowers and watercraft; a certain free-margin , or even vagueness - ignorance, credulity - helps your enjoyment of these things.

Mystery is an emotion which is repugnant to a political animal.

Science is no more than an investigation of a miracle we can never explain, and art is an interpretation of that miracle.

There is a mystery about this which stimulates the imagination; where there is no imagination there is no horror.

Pleasure to me is wonder — the unexplored, the unexpected, the thing that is hidden and the changeless thing that lurks behind superficial mutability.

Mystery is at the heart of creativity. That, and surprise.

There is a vulgar incredulity, which in historical matters as well as in those of religion, finds it easier to doubt than to examine.

Our ignorance can be divided into problems and mysteries. When we face a problem, we may not know its solution, but we have insight, increasing knowledge, and an inkling of what we are looking for. When we face a mystery, however, we can only stare in wonder and bewilderment, not knowing what an explanation would even look like.

Art is a mystery. A mystery is something immeasurable. In so far as every child and woman and man may be immeasurable, art is the mystery of every man and woman and child. In so far as a human being is an artist, skies and mountains and oceans and thunderbolts and butterflies are immeasurable; and art is every mystery of nature. Nothing measurable can be alive; nothing which is not alive can be art; nothing which cannot be art is true: and everything untrue doesn't matter a very good God damn...

A great many people seem to delight most in what they least understand.

... we all know mysteries are very fascinating things.

Freud is completely unscientific. It's a cross between vision, poetry and deceit.