Cryptic Message Quotes

I've put in so many enigmas and puzzles that it will keep the professors busy for centuries arguing over what I meant, and that's the only way of insuring one's immortality.

I seal that which was not to be said in the tomb that I become.

Love is evil, spell it backwards, I’ll show ya.

Because of the vulgar advent, I decided to give way and, by dark and cryptic sentences, tell of the causes of the future mutation of mankind; especially the most urgent ones, and the ones I perceived, and in a manner that would not upset their fragile sentiments.

Shouldn't that be flipped right-side up?" I asked. "No," she said, eyes on the cards. After several moments of heavy silence, said, "You will destroy that which is undead." I waited about thirty seconds for her to continue, but she didn't. "Wait, that's it?" She nodded. "That's what the cards say to me.

What Tarquin the Proud said in his garden with the poppy blooms was understood by the son but not by the messenger.

I cannot tell you what hotel I'm staying at, but there are two trees involved.

This message, in point of obscurity, comes nearer my ideas of a Delphic oracle than any state paper which has come under my inspection. It is so cautiously expressed that every man puts what construction on it he pleases.

A few days back someone sent me two feathers. Two bird's feathers in a sheet of note-paper with a coronet, and fastened with a seal. Sent from a place a long way off; from one who need not have sent them back at all. That amused me too, those devilish green feathers.

The secret, if one may paraphrase a savage vocabulary, lies in the egg of night.

In a symbol there is concealment and yet revelation: here therefore, by silence and by speech acting together, comes a double significance. In the symbol proper, what we can call a symbol, there is ever, more or less distinctly and directly, some embodiment and revelation of the Infinite; the Infinite is made to blend itself with the Finite, to stand visible, and as it were, attainable there. By symbols, accordingly, is man guided and commanded, made happy, made wretched.

But for me, it was a code I myself had invented! Yet I could not read it.

We have to play it longer because there are no numbers or letters.

In almost every thriller, a point is reached when someone, usually calling from a phone booth, telephones with a vital piece of information, which he cannot divulge by phone. By the time the hero arrives at the place where they had arranged to meet, the caller is dead, or too near death to tell. There is never an explanation for the reluctance of the caller to impart his message in the first place.

I take a slow sip of lukewarm coffee, reopen the book, and read the words scribbled in red ink near the top: Everyone needs an olly-olly-oxen-free.