As we acquire knowledge, things do not become more comprehensible, but more mysterious.

Yet as the world becomes more intelligible, it also becomes more mysterious - not, perhaps, in the sense of being problematic and baffling, but of being immeasurably grander, vaster, more complex, and, indeed, more imaginative than we had supposed.

In mysteries what we know, and our realization of what we do not know, proceed together; the larger the island of knowledge, the longer the shoreline of wonder. It is like the quantum world, where the more we understand its formalism, the stranger that world becomes.

Knowledge brings more questions than answers.

We are more than all our knowledge. What we know confronts an infinitely encompassing unknown. The world is a mystery, and each of us is a mystery to himself.

We know accurately only when we know little; doubt grows with knowledge.

The more I see - the more I know,
The more I know, the less I understand.

...science has "explained" nothing; ...the more we know the more fantastic the world becomes and the profounder the surrounding darkness....

The more you know, the more you know you don't know.

The more we study, we the more discover / Our ignorance.

You really only know when you know little. Doubt grows with knowledge.

"...science has "explained" nothing; ...the more we know the more fantastic the world becomes and the profounder the surrounding darkness...."

[S]ome things must needs gain in mystery before we can at all undertake to think upon them. Without mystery they are all obscure. Who can think, for instance, of the infinity of space without adding inconceivable things to his meditation?

Our knowledge of circumstances has increased, but our uncertainty, instead of having diminished, has only increased. The reason of this is, that we do not gain all our experience at once, but by degrees; so our determinations continue to be assailed incessantly by fresh experience; and the mind, if we may use the expression, must always be under arms.