Witch Quotes

A witch is a woman who emerges from deep within herself. She is a woman who has honestly explored her light and learned to celebrate her darkness. She is a woman who is able to fall in love with the magnificent possibilities of her power. She is a woman who radiates mystery. She is magnetic. She is a witch.

Dacha Avelin

When she had arranged her household affairs, she came to the library and bade me follow her. Then, with the mirror still swinging against her knees, she led me through the garden and the wilderness down to a misty wood. It being autumn, the trees were tinted gloriously in dusky bars of colouring. The rowan, with his amber leaves and scarlet berries, stood before the brown black-spotted sycamore; the silver beech flaunted his golden coins against my poverty; firs, green and fawn-hued, slumbered in hazy gossamer. No bird carolled, although the sun was hot. Marina noted the absence of sound, and without prelude of any kind began to sing from the ballad of the Witch Mother: about the nine enchanted knots, and the trouble-comb in the lady's knotted hair, and the master-kid that ran beneath her couch. Every drop of my blood froze in dread, for whilst she sang her face took on the majesty of one who traffics with infernal powers. As the shade of the trees fell over her, and we passed intermittently out of the light, I saw that her eyes glittered like rings of sapphires.("The Basilisk")

R. Murray Gilchrist

The Witch film, was one suspensed and good made one, it could be well made with some more victims... But...

Deyth Banger

Witchcraft is a path of personal freedom.

Dacha Avelin

Maybe the witch thought she was protecting Rapunzel, not punishing her. Maybe she thought that if Rapunzel was locked away, no one could ever hurt her. Maybe the witch kept Rapunzel because she loved her, because she was scared that if other people could get to Rapunzel, they would hurt her. And maybe Rapunzel didn't understand the witch; maybe she was angry at her - but maybe she loved her too.

Alyssa B. Sheinmel

When you start to notice the mystical, the mystical will start to notice you.

Dacha Avelin

When I was girl by Nilus stream I watched the deserts stars arise; My lover, he who dreamed the Sphinx, Learned all his dreaming from eyes. I bore in Greece a burning name, And I have been in Italy Madonna to a painter-lad, And mistress to a Medici. And have you heard (and I have heard) Of puzzled men with decorous mien, Who judged - the wench knew far too much - And burnt her on the Salem green?

Adelaide Crapsey

Ironically people will thank a deity for "letting" them win a race, but blame a "witch" if they stumble, look for the nearest suspect, and kill them. Why not blame the deity? Why not accept the setback as easily as they accept the victory/ Time people grew up some, I think - and stopped looking for theoretical "somebodies" to blame for their own misfortunes.

Christina Engela

Well," I ask, leaning over him, "do you wish to stay?""I do.""And why is that, Cole?" I say, tipping toward him so that our noses nearly brush."Well," he says with a smile, "the weather's quite nice.

Victoria Schwab

She was prisoner to an old, forgotten god, kept from her home, probably never to see it again, and yet... the way she sat, poised, calm, clear like a full moon night, she seemed much happier than me, the witch who contained them all, the jailer with the magic key.

Sarah Diemer

The spirits made her sick, and I don't just mean the Scotch.

Lenora Henson

Men have dragged us by our hair through the ages, and whether they give us crumbs or bright, shiny rocks, they truly give us nothing at all. If you have not opened your legs for them so that they could drawl out as babies or crawl in as men, they they will leave you to starve like a dog on the street. So now we are done playing the way they want us to play. Now we are moving to music they cannot hear, to a rhythm they cannot understand. They call it madness and we call it truth and find me the magistrate you can trust to judge between the two? Bah. So we dance on, we dance on.

Toby Barlow

How old are you?""Ah that is a good one. I do not know.""Before cars?""Before trains, before guns. Before people stole the curves from the high clouds and the angles from the flying flocks to build all their little alphabets.

Toby Barlow

She killed her sons first. Hammering a long fence nail through each of their hearts. Then, taking an ax, she methodically beheaded each one of her brothers-in-law. Going out to the pens, she drove the livestock into the barn, bolting it shut, and while the goat kids and spring lambs panicked and brayed, she put all the buildings to flame.

Toby Barlow

For the first time, they were seeing the dream beneath the flesh.Karla stared at the pointed ears that had come from the Dea al Mon, the hands with sheathed claws that had come from the Tigre, the hooves peeking out from beneath the black gown that could have come from the centaurs or the horses or the unicorns. Most of all, she stared at the tiny spiral horn.The living myth. Dreams made flesh. But, oh, had any of them really thought about who the dreamers had

Anne Bishop

I am Tersa the Weaver, Tersa the Liar, Tersa the Fool.

Anne Bishop

W-what are you?"Selena looked down at her rival. "What you should have been and never were. The Queen of the Witches.

Anne Bishop

You're not going to answer, are you?" Jaenelle asked after a minute of teeth-grinding silence."No.""Don't you know the answer?""Whether I know the answer or not is beside the point. It's not something a man discusses with a young girl.""But you know the answer."Daemon growled.

Anne Bishop

You disappoint me, Cassandra. Your legends paint you differently," Daemon said softly, his voice thick with malevolence."I'm a Priestess serving at this Altar," she said, working to keep her voice steady. "You're mistaken, if you think--"He laughed softly. She stepped back from the sound and found herself pressed against the counter. "Do you think I can't tell the difference between a Priestess and a Queen? And the Jewels, my dear, name you for what you are."She bent her head slightly in acknowledgment. "So I'm Cassandra. What do you want, Prince?

Anne Bishop

A witch is someone who has dedicated her life to learning about the connections between things. She studies the different cycles and her place in them. She learns how to use the energy in herself and in the world to make changes. And most of all, she tries to make the world a better place for herself and other people.

Isobel Bird

Am I witch? I don't know. That's what they call me. They say it's because I follow the rhythms of the earth, honor the seasons, dance under the moon and seek the ancient herbal wisdom of our ancestors. "Folk Lore, poppycock, myths," they say as they sneer at the rosemary in my cup, the comfrey brewing on the stove and turmeric stains on my hands. "Western medicine and science have replaced all that nonsense," they say. They make witches out to be evil and then call me a witch because I am seeking the knowledge & ancient wisdom that the world seems hell bent on forgetting. Well, they can call me what they like, but I know I am not evil. This is what I know: I am an intuitive woman who instinctively knows that this sacred earth holds healing that western medicine will never be able to replace. I will be here holding space. I will be their witch. So, here I am- A kitchen witch sipping her Rosemary tea, mixing up her herbal potion, dancing under the moon, and fighting for the knowledge & wisdom of our grandmothers to not be forgotten.

Brooke Hampton

Of course no one accused the old woman of being a witch. But she was foreign. Her words percolated up the tunnel of her throat , espresso-thick and strong. Bad weather had eroded her face. Some believed that the sun had crisped her skin into coriaceous pleats. Others blamed the chaw of a wintry climate. No one knew where she came from, though lots of people privately thought that perhaps she ought to go back.

Carys Bray

I am a child of the poisonous wind that copulated with the East River on an oil-slick, garbage infested midnight. I turn about on my own parentage. I inoculate against those very biles that brought me to light. I am a serum born of venoms. I am the antibody of all Time. I am the Cure. You do of the City, do you not? Manhattan is your punisher, let me be you shield.

Ray Bradbury

In the Scotland of the early seventeenth century, an old woman living alone in Kirkcudbrightshire was accused of witchcraft and on conviction was rolled downhill in a blazing tar barrel. One of the charges against her was that she walked withershins round a well near her cottage which was used by other people. The well was afterwards known as the Witch's Well. These episodes must surely serve as cautionary tales to anyone tempted to transgress the usual custom of walking deasil round a holy well.

Colin Bord

Wrong kind of witch." - Manon Blackbeak

Sarah J Maas

The first time I called myself a 'Witch' was the most magical moment of my life.

Margot Adler

Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog, Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting, Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing,— For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and caldron bubble.

William Shakespeare

A Witch is born out of the true hungers of her time,” she said. “I was born out of New York. The things that are most wrong here summoned me. ("Drink Entire: Against The Madness Of Crowds")

Ray Bradbury

We designate the spirit of the well as 'she' because in most of her personifications she takes a female form, though not invariably. She appears in many guises - ghost, witch, saint, mermaid, fairy, and sometimes in animal form, often as a sacred fish - and her presence permeates well lore, and indeed water lore generally.

Colin Bord

Nothing else in the whole wide world matters as much as avenging your sister.

Jason Jack Miller

It's Coke, my man. You really think I'm going to let you pour any more alcohol into your body tonight?

Jason Jack Miller

Yeah, but a hellbender never dies. You ever see a dead one?

Jason Jack Miller

Henry,that's how you get rid of fleas. You keep them from laying eggs. You go to war with them.

Jason Jack Miller

May your glass always be full, may there always be a roof over your head, and may you dirty sinners be in heaven a half hour before the devil knows you're dead.

Jason Jack Miller

The witch is a dangerous person. Neither his appearance nor his behaviour betray his satanic nature. He does not wear special clothing, he does not have magical instruments. He does not boil potions, does not prepare poisons, does not fall into a trance, and does not perform incantations. He acts by means of the psychic power he was born. Malefaction is a congenital trait of his personality. The fact that he does evil and brings misfortune owes nothing to his predilections. It brings him not special pleasure. He simply is that way.

Ryszard Kapuściński

Here is all the invisible world, caught, defined, and calculated. In these books the Devil stands stripped of all his brute disguises. Here are all your familiar spirits-your incubi and succubi; your witches that go by land, by air, and by sea; your wizards of the night and of the day. Have no fear now-we shall find him out and I mean to crush him utterly if he has shown his face!

Arthur Miller

Well, I am no village cunning woman, no frightened merry-begot, but a woman born to riches, andeducated from the time I can remember, and given all that I could possibly desire. And now in mytwenty-second year, already a mother and soon perhaps to be a widow, I rule in this place. I ruledbefore my mother gave to me all her secrets, and her great familiar, Lasher, and I mean to study thisthing, and make use of it, and allow it to enhance my considerable strength.

Anne Rice

To the Sabbath! To the Sabbath!' they cried. 'On to the Witches' Sabbath!" Up and down that narrow hall they danced, the women on each side of him, to the wildest measure he had ever imagined, yet which he dimly, dreadfully remembered, till the lamp on the wall flickered and went out, and they were left in total darkness. And the devil woke in his heart with a thousand vile suggestions and made him afraid.

Algernon Blackwood

She stared at the bullwhip coiled Indiana Jones-style at his narrow waist, then at the black-handled dagger sheathed on his right hip. An obsidian rapier--Fae-forged and unbreakable--almost merged with one of the taped seams that ran down the sides of his pants. He even wore a dagger gunslinger-style at his hip. Dear Goddess, the man was a walking arsenal, but he was sexy as hell.

Kryssie Fortune

The mist enveloped her form. She was lifted into it, then instantly dropped. Swiftly, the mist retreated to the window.It was gone. The old woman lay flat on her back, eyes open and staring; her mouth open, too, unprettily.That was the over-all effect - the utter lack of anything beautiful.("The Witch")

A.E. van Vogt

Granny looked up at the zombie. He was - or, technically, had been - a tall, handsome man. He still was, only now he looked like someone who had walked through a room full of cobwebs.'What's your name, dead man?' she said.

Terry Pratchett

Nell was like a witch. Her long silvery hair rolled into a bun on the back of her head, the narrow wooden house on the hillside in Paddington, with its peeling lemon-yellow paint and overgrown garden, the neighborhood cats that followed her everywhere. The way she had of fixing her eyes so straight on you, as if she might be about to cast a spell.

Kate Morton

Witches were a bit like cats. They didn’t much like one another’s company, but they did like to know where all the other witches were, just in case they needed them.

Terry Pratchett

A boy and a girl, fated to rule all. Two will rise, and One will fall.

James Patterson

She swung around, her hair flying about her like wildfire. Fire. The fireplace.She reached in with all the power Todd had taught her to exercise and grasped as much as she could. She imagined gasoline spilling onto the logs, leaving trails of burning kerosene around the room. In her mind bright orange and red exploded in dazzling sparks. The oxygen seemed to thicken and swell around her.Then the entire room was alight with flame.

Deidre Huesmann

In the gray world above, I hear myself howling with laughter. Far below me, in the psychic abyss that is part of the Darkness, I hear another howling, one full of joy and pain, rage and celebration.Not just another witch is coming, my foolish Sisters, but Witch.

Anne Bishop

A witch does not need to fix problems. She fixes the energy AROUND problems. Then the problems fix themselves…

Dacha Avelin

A cloud of white death veiled in black…

Jean M. Grant

Perhaps we can start counting those kisses once more. I think you owe me a few.

Jean M. Grant

Contentedly sat the old woman. Soon now, the sea would hold no terrors, and the blinds wouldn't have to be down, nor the windows shut; she would even be able to walk along the shore at midnight as of old; and they, whom she had deserted so long ago, would once more shrink from the irresistable energy aura of her new, young body.The sound of the sea came to her, where she sat so quietly; calm sound at first, almost gentle in the soft sibilation of each wave thrust. Farther out, the voices of the water were louder, more raucous, blatantly confident, but the meaning of what they said was blurred by the distance, a dim, clamorous confusion that rustled discordantly out of the gathering night.Night!She shouldn't be aware of night falling, when the blinds were drawn.("The Witch")

A.E. van Vogt

You're murderers," she told the stunned crowd. "You killed him. He was a miracle, and you killed him. Now you've just got me. And I'm a curse.

J.L. Bryan

That’s quite the specific search...'Sadistic Old-Bag-Murdering Witches'—I can’t even begin to imagine what that involves.

Stacey T. Hunt

Have you taught her to kill, Priest? Can you teach her such a thing? She's so wise in her innocence, so innocent in her wisdom.

Anne Bishop

Merry’s mind devolved into chaos. Ideas evaded her. Words chased one another into meaningless jumbles. Her breath came in shallow gasps as the ghastly image of William’s lifeless body twisting in the wind, solidified and held.

Susan Catalano

Quincy laughed. "If I were Elizabeth I shouldn't thank either of you for that comforting diagnosis. Would it do any good to open Aunt Sarai's grave and drive a stake through her? If you believe in as much sorcery as that, you must regret the days of witch-burners, Carew."Carew said quietly, "No. Witch-burners were barbarous blunderers. If I wanted to suppress a dangerous letter, could I do it by burning the envelope and leaving the letter loose? The witch would come back unchanged; I should merely have postponed the danger until another time and place. And have further handicapped myself to meet it, by depriving the witch, by violent death, of the years allotted her, or him, for evolution."Joseph said with dry humor, "She might not have used them for that, Carew. At least not for your idea of it."Carew shrugged. "That would be her responsibility, not mine. And, in any case, she would be that many years nearer the time of her inevitable change."This time Joseph did not answer, only smiled.

Evangeline Walton

The witch who claims to forbear her magick for fear of causing the next Indian tsunami is really saying that she is powerful enough to kill thousands of innocent strangers when all she meant to do was water her mugwort. She can't be challenged to produce evidence of this, because doing could provoke earthquakes and Africanized bee attacks.

Thomm Quackenbush

Because no retreat from the world can mask what is in your face.

Gregory Maguire

Impossible,'" Matthew said."'Impossible n'est pas français,' Ysabeau said, her tone tart as vinegar. 'And it certainly was not a word in your father's vocabulary.

Deborah Harkness

My woman has a wandering eye;Yarrow, thyme and thorn.She eyes the ocean and the skyWhile stitching sails, forlorn.I got a kiss, and then a tearAs she bade me go;But on the waves, my heart's in fear:My woman's in the know.

F.T. McKinstry

I'm going to Hell in a basketWeaved in from my sins,Like wickerWith little Wiccan tiesAs if I'm a witchAccused.

Matthew Little

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