Best 397 of Witch quotes - MyQuotes
witch-hunting misogyny is fiercely recurrent in this nation, even if its forms vary with the ages.
Granny Weatherwax was a witch. That was quite acceptable in the Ramtops, and no one had a bad word to say about witches. At least, not if he wanted to wake up in the morning the same shape as he went to bed.
To understand how to create change, you must understand the sequence of events it entails. The cycle is as follows: Knowing – Witchcraft – Magic.
Magick happens when you step into who you truly are and embrace that which fulfills your soul.
A witch stands comfortably within her mystery and allure.
Witches escape to the forest to listen to the whispers of nature itself...
The way to any woman's heart, be she witch or Wonderwoman, princess or Pocahontas, is through her stomach.
A piercing screech from above caught my attention. However, it was the arm landing beside me with teeth marks that let me know what was going on. “Can you be a little more careful where you let body parts fall?” - Faith, Witch Devotions
Ding-dong, the wicked witch is dead.
i am the girl with the arsonist heart
F. T. Mckinstry
My woman has a wandering eye; Yarrow, thyme and thorn. She eyes the ocean and the sky While stitching sails, forlorn. I got a kiss, and then a tear As she bade me go; But on the waves, my heart's in fear: My woman's in the know.
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.
Every woman is a mad ugly bad old witch somewhere in her heart.
They took form in a bedroom, Khloe realized with a scowl. He noticed and gave her a sideways grin. Arrogant ass. Laugh it up, demon.
There is no trick of a magician or spell of a witch doctor, no drug or mesmerism or bribery or torture or coercion that can compare in power with the force for change unleashed in the human breast through the touch of love.
It's Coke, my man. You really think I'm going to let you pour any more alcohol into your body tonight?
The one who's afraid has already lost.
I am against justice … whenever it is carried out by a mob.
Games can sometimes be fun." He smiled and lifted his wineglass. "A toast." She lifted hers. "To dangerous games." He smiled. "To winning." She clinked her glass against his.
...Amelia was sitting on the pavement in her lawn chair, a glass of wine in her hand. When we emerged, she set the glass down very carefully on the ground and then looked us over from head to toe. 'Okay, don't know how to react,' she said, finally.
She was both strikingly gorgeous and completely natural, and her perceptive eyes said she was not afraid to wield said power over a man.
Witchcraft offers us the connection we need to be more than desperately criss-crossing the wasteland and perilously low on gas. In a real sense we have become severed from connections, overwritten, cut-up, lost in a globalised symbol set that provides no meaning beyond a message to consume.
Leigh Ann Edwards
You were so intent on what your purpose would be. I remember it nearly word for word." "Recite it for me then, my Lainna." She smiled a warm, soft smile, and her eyes filled with light. "You would waken in your bedchamber with your lady beside you...
Magick is not just something you do. Magick is something you ARE.
This is, indeed, a place where magic happens…
Witchcraft involves being willing to understand and embrace your true self. It is about exploring your light and learning to celebrate your darkness.
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")
Why are you helping me?” Maximillion blinked, drawing in a deep breath. He let it out. “Because it’s the right thing to do. There, your question is answered.
In my dream I drank fully of water, but when I woke, I was thirsty." Ned Low
As long as women are denied the priesthood, we will try to make our own rituals at our own kitchen altars and we will sew our own magical capes at our own sewing machines
Nathan Reese Maher
She points to where he went and looks to the neutral Baumen. “He—he did that to me on purpose! He’s insane. Literally, insane!” The munchkin just shrugs. “Welcome aboard!” and returns unconcerned to his work.
We believe that you can bring forth peace by first learning to love and appreciate yourself and your ancestors. We believe that rules are not arbitrary, but made by you in accordance with your own beliefs. We believe in free will. And we believe in magic and the power that it holds! We adhere to the wisdom of our own voice, because we know the greatest gift in the universe is free will—ultimate and omnipotent— bound only by love and ameliorated by the practice of magic".
A black cat crossed my path, and I stopped to dance around it widdershins and to sing the rhyme, Ou va-ti mistigri? Passe sans faire de mai ici.
I didn’t know I was looking for you, but I was,” he whispered.
Maybe Paula was even Eileen's mùirn beatha dàn
Witch," said Sarah Brown, "I have got to say something." "Oh, have you?" said the witch, a little disappointed at being interrupted. "Oh, well, I can sympathise, I know what that feels like. Get on and say it." The Dog David, who was really a good and attentive son to Sarah Brown, came and laid his chin, with an exaggerated look of interest, on her knee-cap. "Is it any use," said Sarah Brown, "fighting against the Habits in the world, there are so many. Who set these strange and senseless deceivers at large? Religion which has forgotten ecstasy.... Law which has forgotten justice.... Charity which has forgotten love.... Surely magic has suffered at the stake for saner ideals than these?" "Why, of course," said the witch impatiently. "Magic generally suffered because it was so sane. I thought everybody knew that." "All habits. All habits," chanted Sarah Brown. "What is this Charity, this clinking of money between strangers, and when did Charity cease to be a comforting and secret thing between one friend and another? Does Love make her voice heard through a committee, does Love employ an almoner to convey her message to her neighbour?" "Not that I know of," sighed the witch. "Sarah Brown, how long do you want me to keep quiet, while you say things that everybody surely knows?" ~ from Chapter IV 'The Forbidden Sandwich' of 'Living Alone' by Stella Benson, published 1919.
Claws grabbed his head from behind, curving round his face, serrated talons gouging into his eyes
He'd been born into duty. As a demigod descendant, a death reaper, his first commitment was to serve the god of the underworld. Hades, as a conduit to usher evil souls to hell.
Don't yield to that alluring witch, laziness, or else be prepared to surrender all that you have won in your better moments.
Don’t pack your bags just yet, stay awhile, Don't try to run away to higher ground, You're in my twisted clouds of sad misfortune, And you are such an entertaining crowd! (I’ve never had such cheerful toys to play with...) Forget I said that – just a little natural disaster Humour, Ha-ha-ha. Pull up a rusty lawn chair On the waterfront in New Orleans, And ignore the wind that howls, Things aren’t always as they seem. I can smell fear in the air, Fresh amidst the cornbread steam, Forgive me if I sound excited, (I’m going to be famous, you know!) And let me take your money, please! I’ll drown your family, hunt down your pets, I’ve got tricks that I’ve never even tried yet, And it’s so easy when I get the chance! (I’ll swipe your house in just one glance!) As the saying goes, it all comes out in the wash, But I’m the only wash that leaves no stone unturned, Financial devastation is my middle name, And social degradation is my third! You, little boy from the bayou bank, You used to fish for pointless fun (I can appreciate having fun), But after I go, you’ll find your parents poor, You’ll have eviction notices on your door, You’ll have to sell any fish you can catch, In a desperate grasp for money, Although I hate to break it to you, That bayou’s polluted, honey! I see nothing in your future but welfare cheques! And you there, little girl with the closet of toys, You were born well-off with a room of your own, You have dresses that look more like They’re from fairy-tales, Glittery lace on your schoolgirl gowns. Wait ‘till murky water licks those hems, And your family is bankrupt And you’re homeless with them! Accept what’s to come, won’t you please? I’m just a carousel of wild winds Who’ll bring you to your knees! Hell, yeah! Take a bow, take a bow, Take a bow before your god… I might just pardon you If you’ve got magic up your sleeve! If you’re swift and resourceful you could outrun me! I always love a challenge! I always love a game… The question on your mind Is in regards to my first name, Right? My name is Katrina, the witch of the skies, A sorceress whose debut dance makes everyone die, I know it’s not what you wanted! (But I’m selfish through and through), So, c’mon and make me happy! Whether you’re ready or not…
Cursed, I was cursed, and my mother said she’d given up magic for good, said it was a terrible thing, but she wasn’t above using it to keep me at her side, and she’s a hypocrite, a liar, a fraud and phony, and I hate her I hate her I hate her!
I don't know why one author writes westerns while another writes detective novels. You don't know why. You go where the intensity is. I feel most comfortable writing about monsters. It's possible that I feel like a monster myself. Or maybe it's because we all have a monster inside of us, a vampire, a ghost, a witch or a werewolf. You do it because it works and it feels really right and authentic.
I looked into her eyes, and saw my own staring back, the same peculiar shade, pale grey, flecked with yellow, rimmed with black. Now I knew the nature of her debt. It had weighed on her conscience for fourteen years. I was looking into the eyes of mother and I knew that I would never see her again.
Most people live their lives laying prostrate before a false god, waiting for a cue to rise. There are no cues, only decisions. Shall I have dessert? Shall I have the best of the wine? Shall I love the person next to me? They can all be brought to your table. Rise, I say, rise and look within to the truth, to the light, and tell it your decision.
When a woman embraces her inner witch, she finds new strength. She is overtaken by true serenity. She creates order where there was none before. Her eyes have now been opened.
While Grandma Welker didn't come right out and accuse Katie of being a witch, or something worse, it was easy to see that she wasn't comfortable around her.
You might even say their bark is as bad as their bite.
I think Ken should grow some balls and tell Barbie to piss off," Matt said after Ashley waved an accusing finger in Darren's (leg-puppy) face, then stomped off to a table beside a window.
So, you're the Santa Claus of the magic world with a naughty and nice list?
What I say is, if a witch can't look after herself, she's got no business calling herself a witch.