Magic Quotes - Page 4

Sorcery rules the world. Of course, most don't call it sorcery; indeed, many would be horrified by such a notion.

The role of a story was, in the broadest terms, to transpose a single problem into another form. ... It was like a piece of paper bearing the indecipherable text of a magic spell.

Haruki Murakami

M.T. Stone was the poster boy for what an assassin should look like.

Magic and miracle they are nothing but manipulation of sight and heart.

Crazy is such a misunderstood term. I like to think that I march to the beat of my own drummer.

Eva Sloan

If you don't beleve in yourself, who will?' ~Maybeck

Blessed are the powers that grant me magic.I promise to use their gift well.To help mend my world.To help mend all worlds.And should I forget to mend,Should I refuse to mend,Still I will rememberTo do no harm.

Janni Lee Simner

It's a bird of some sort. It's like a duck, only I never saw a duck have so many colors."The bird swam swiftly and gracefully toward the Magic Isle, and as it drew nearer its gorgeously colored plumage astonished them. The feathers were of many hues of glistening greens and blues and purples, and it had a yellow head with a red plume, and pink, white and violet in its tail.

All magic is unnatural, and for that reason is to be feared and avoided ~ The Scarecrow

The longer Ellen Cherry thought about it, the more convinced she became that the mission of the artist in an overtechnologized, overmasculinized society was to call the old magic back to life.Could it be done? Yeah, you pessimistic wimps, it could. Could she do it? Probably not, but she could give it a whirl.

My dad liked to say that magic itself is never black; only the uses to which it is put, but mind magic is already tinted a deep, dark gray.

Christine Amsden

...on a number of occasions this book has made reference to magic, and each time you've shaken your head, muttering such criticisms as "What does he mean by 'magic' anyhow? It's embarrassing to find a grown man talking about magic in such a manner. How can anybody take him seriously?" Or, as slightly more gracious readers have objected, "Doesn't the author realize that one can't write about magic? One can create it but not discuss it. It's much too gossamer for that. Magic can be neither described nor defined. Using words to describe magic is like using a screwdriver to slice roast beef."To which the author now replies, Sorry, freeloaders, you're clever but you're not quite correct. Magic isn't the fuzzy, fragile, abstract and ephemeral quality you think it is. In fact, magic is distinguished from mysticism by its very concreteness and practicality. Whereas mysticism is manifest only in spiritual essence, in the transcendental state, magic demands a steady naturalistic base. Mysticism reveals the ethereal in the tangible. Magic makes something permanent out of the transitory, coaxes drama from the colloquial.

We have to think of a question that we wouldn't otherwise want to answer.'He stood over the pot, looking down at the leaves. 'Something like, Who do you fancy?''That might work,' I said, even though it was the last question I wanted to answer. But it was impossible, suddenly, to tell a lie.Benjamin took a deep sniff over the steam and turned to me. 'All right,' he said. 'So who do you fancy?'I hesitated. 'Fancy means like, right?' I said stalling.'Of course.'I gritted my teeth against the answer coming out. but I couldn't stop myself. 'You,' I said helplessly.

I create other worlds, magical never-never lands where the camera is my weapon and the battles I fight are with the elements. i stretch the laws of the mind and displace people from their realities to capture a side of them they didn’t even know they had. Photography has the ability to freeze people in this time and space—no matter what happens after that moment, it cannot change—they are exactly how i want them to be.

He wanted a faery. More than anything else in the world. He had already imagined exactly how it should happen. He would set up the invitation, and the next day there would be a petal-winged pisky clinging to the top of his bedpost. It would have a foolish grin on its face, and large ears, and it wouldn’t notice at all that Bartholomew was small and ugly and different from everyone else. But no. Mother had to ruin everything.

Stefan Bachmann

A figure stood at the far end, cloaked in black and beckoning him.

Patrick W. Carr

The Glass Cat is one of the most curious creatures in all Oz. It was made by a famous magician named Dr. Pipt before Ozma had forbidden her subjects to work magic. Dr. Pipt had made the Glass Cat to catch mice, but the Cat refused to catch mice and was considered more curious than useful.This astonishing cat was made all of glass and was so clear and transparent that you could see through it as easily as through a window. In the top of its head, however, was a mass of delicate pink balls which looked like jewels but were intended for brains. It had a heart made of a blood-red ruby. The eyes were two large emeralds. But, aside from these colors, all the rest of the animal was of clear glass, and it had a spun-glass tail that was really beautiful.

Look closely Jane. This is Majesty Park, the city of wonder. Here you are free to dream dreams and follow them wherever they may take you.

Any fool would not be braveWho takes no heed of this verseNo heroic deed or action saveAny man from Finndragon’s curse

My father once told me love is magic, sir.

Victoria Alexander

So why hadn’t he confronted me? Why hadn’t he torn through my lies and forced me to own up that I’d caught him in a Binding? It wasn’t like he could just brush this off. And that smile before he left, as if he’d been pulling my leg to see my reaction…I shook my head. Ryan was certainly providing his fair share of riddles. There was the tiny possibility he was still clueless and was just teasing me, but I doubted anyone could be that naïve. Even him. My mind began to tick over, desperate for an answer. Only one other thing stuck out in his behaviour. Maybe he was going for a fair exchange strategy. He wouldn’t question my secrets, in the hope I wouldn’t question his.Now that was naïve.

Sam Dogra

My heart almost vaulted out of my chest. I was snuggled against Ryan’s shoulder. We were burrowed under the cloak and sleeping bag, and my hand rested on his cheek, about to swat the stray hair that had fallen over my face. This wouldn’t have been so bad, if not for one tiny detail.Ryan was awake.

Sam Dogra

Adam glanced at me. His grin was back. I’d forgotten how easily he could wind me up.“You know, Eliza,” he said, “maybe you’re missing something here.”“You’re going to be missing a few teeth if you don’t explain yourself,” I growled.

Sam Dogra

I remained silent, adrift in a torrent of mixed feelings. The Binding urged me to curl up in his embrace, to lose myself in his scent and surrender to his lips again; however, my own thoughts begged me to turn away. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t deny there was something between Ryan and me, but what? It was the curse!It had always been the curse…

Sam Dogra

If the bird was made, it chose to be made. It's here because it chooses to be with you.

The greatest peril of life lies in the fact that human food consists entirely of souls. All the creatures that we to kill and eat, all those that we have to strike down and destroy to make clothes for ourselves, have souls, souls that do not perish with the body and which must therefore be pacified lest they revenge themselves on us for taking away their bodies

Fox is a television character, and she isn’t dead yet. But she will be, soon. She’s a character on a television show called The Library. You’ve never seen the Library on TV, but I bet you wish you had.

Lovers are the coolest their hearts beat the best & they kiss magic as hell

Childhood is this time of magic and monsters; hoping for one and fearing the other... The worst part of being a kid is discovering which one exists... So, I chose to believe in magic.

Thomm Quackenbush

Kindness is a kind of magic, in return we get love which is eternal.

Come closer, my dears, let me give you a warning,Of the fate that befalls those who stay out past morning,In the darkest hours before the dawn,When witches roam and demons spawn,And children die with spirit gone,Magicked away in the gloaming.

To go home, you usually will use that door over there." I looked where Trom gestured and saw empty space."What door?" I asked."Oh, sorry. Until you go through your closet door for the first time there won't be a door there.""So then what do I use now?" I asked."You use that door." I looked and this time what he showed me was a door-only it looked like a pet door."Is that an oversized pet door?" I asked.

Jennifer Priester

Yeah, well, what are you going to teach me next...how to take over the world?” I asked sarcastically.“Good idea!” Sampson exclaimed a little too enthusiastically.“No, bad idea!” I stressed.“See? You are learning,” Sampson said.

Jennifer Priester

I did exactly as Sampson said and I conjured up a creature with rabbit ears,a wolf face, a snake body, frog feet, a pig tail, and spikes running from the top of its head to the end of its tail.“Now,” Sampson said. “This is thekind of magic that you shouldn’t do.

Jennifer Priester

Subconsciously, every one believes in angels, fairies, magic and a happy ever after.

Kaye P.

Fact is not truth, but a poet who willfully defies fact cannot achieve truth.

Magic has big sharp teeth. When it bites, it doesn't nibble. It takes big, bloody chunks. So be very, very careful.

William Blystone

Make no mistake in denying it…magic is real. It happens when you touch her hand for the first time and your palms mysteriously sweat, it transpires within those sustained seconds just before your lips touches hers your heart miraculously races, and it occurs when you cross paths with someone you never met or knew, but have always waited for and instantly know.

The witch knew who had killed her and she snatched pieces of time, here and there, from the business of dying, to make her revenge.

From: The Crown of TelusShe opened her eyes, saw the crown sitting on her bedside table, and wished that it was all a dream. The crown of Trist was nothing special. It had no gemstones, no gold or silver filigree; instead it was simple, a metal circlet with four points and some inlay around a scratched and dented band. “It’s a working man’s crown,” she remembered her father holding the symbol of power out to her when she younger. “See the inlay? Three moons, one for each of our gods, over an oak which represents the mighty forests of the north, a shock of wheat for the Plainsmen to the south, a ship for the Gheltes to the west, and a hashap flower for the spice in the east. Nothing more. We don’t need anymore.”Tears welled in her eyes. A working man’s crown. Nothing fancy or bejeweled, a symbol of the power that guides the land and cares for its people. This was going to be the first day she wore it as queen.

I know essentially you're some kind of enchantress. Maybe you're still serving your apprenticeship, but you're an enchantress all right. Probably I'd get used to you in time. Right now, it's only my demonic will that's keeping me playing it mighty cool.

If you don't believe in yourself, who will?' ~Maybeck

I thought the assassin was moving kind of slow for an assassin. Maybe the magic had done something after all. Or maybe he felt sorry for me. That sort of thing happens among cutthroats more often than you'd expect.

Cassandra Rose Clarke

Laughter is magic that dispenses clouds and creates sunshine in the soul.

Richelle E. Goodrich

A certain amount of native skill and training can allow many individuals to be fairly successful magicians, achieving a surprisingly high ratio of positive results through sorcery.(...) These outer changes, no matter how dramatic, will not necessarily have a deep impact on the deepest levels of your psyche, which is where the process of initiation most meaningfully manifests.'--Zeena Schreck for “Contemporary notions of Kundalini, its backgroundand role within new Western religiosity,” University of Stockholm, Malin Fitger 2004

Unbelievable,” Gavin said. “There’s a whole legion of magical beings living on Earth and only Aquarians know about them.”“We come in peace,” Ilauria said, surprised at her attempt at levity.A wide grin replaced his serious expression. “Lucky for us.

May the magic rise in YOU!

Pick up a thing," [Wizard Kadmeion's]mother would say. "Touch, smell, and taste it. Listen to its nonsense. Then put the funny thing in its proper place.

Others may sit around and wait for magic to happen… I like to get up early and work towards my goals and dreams. Every morning I plant the seeds of what the haters call ‘luck.’ Now, I love magic as much as the next guy, but I realized a long time ago that the magic that turns dreams into reality is YOU. When you are inspired by a dream, create a good plan. Creating that plan turns your dream into a goal. Then, take action! Live your life in a way that will bring that dream, that goal, to life. The magic is you.

I don’t know about black or white magic I just know one type and that is your magic.

Magic is difficult to describe, to understand and to come to terms with and many people don’t want to feel different or unusual.

The idea of magic being something that is separate from everyday life – known to the magicians but not the ordinary people – still slows down our recognition that it is here, now, of the Earth and Universe, all around us, and perhaps most essentially, in us.

If magic is energy, then using it is about guiding it's flow rather than possessing it and squirreling it away. Some people seem to me to approach magic as though adding spells and charms and even gurus to their museum – sometimes a secret museum. My worry is that this leaves you weighed down with exhibits too precious to use or to let go of when you need to move on.

He is a dull observer whose experience has not taught him the reality and force of magic, as well as of chemistry.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

As he hurtled through the air Simon saw the boiling emerald fire hit his protective spell and explode into sickly green sparks, inches from where Falamir was still crouched, oblivious to the chaos unfolding around him.

Anyone without a sense of humor is too pretentious to be a good magician.

Anton Szandor LaVey

A major determining factor by which a superior human can be isolated from his average counterparts is his very isolation—the degree to which he naturally removes himself from mass-media input and stimuli. You cannot be an elitist, a Magician, and be plugged into the system.

Anton Szandor LaVey

Hasn't there always been a moon?""Bless you. Not in the slightest. I remember the day the moon came. We looked up in the sky--it was all dirty brown and sooty gray here then, not green and blue...

My path will weaveThe way you sayThere is no doubtYou'll create the way

William O'Brien

Something that once had importance might be forgotten by most people but because millions of people once knew it, a force is present that can be harnessed. There might be so much significance attached to a song, for example, or a fact, that it can’t die but only lies dormant, like a vampire in his coffin, waiting to be called forth from the grave once again. There is more magic in the fact that the first mass worldwide photo of the Church of Satan was taken by Joe Rosenthal – the same man who took the most famous news photo in history – the flag-raising at Iwo Jima. There’s real occult significance to that – much more than in memorizing grimoires and witches’ alphabets. People ask me about what music to use in rituals – what is the best occult music. I’ve instructed people to go to the most uncrowded section of the music store and it’s a guarantee what you’ll find there will be occult music. That’s the power of long-lost trivia. I get irritated by people who turn up their noses and whine ‘Why would anyone want to know that?’ Because once upon a time, everyone in America knew it. Suppose there’s a repository of neglected energy, that’s been generated and forgotten. Maybe it’s like a pressure cooker all this time, just waiting for someone to trigger its release. ‘Here I am,’ it beckons, ‘I have all this energy stored up just waiting for you – all you have to do is unlock the door. Because of man’s stupidity, he’s neglected me to this state of somnambulism – dreaming the ancient dreams – even though I was once so important to him.’ Think about that. A song that was once on millions of lips now is only on your lips. Now what does that contain? Those vibrations of that particular tune, what do they evoke, call up? What do they unlock? The old gods lie dormant, waiting.

Anton Szandor LaVey

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