Best 3503 quotes in «magic quotes» category

Stop looking at my mouth.” His eyes darkened, as she saw his pupils dilate. He mouthed back, just as silently. “What if I don’t want to stop looking at your mouth?

Stop fighting me!" he said, trying to pull on the arm he held. He was in a precarious position himself, straddling the rail as he tried to lean over far enough to get me and actually hold onto me. “Let go of me!” I yelled back. But he was too strong and managed to haul most of me over the rail, enough so that I wasn’t in total danger of falling again. See, here’s the thing. In that moment before I let go, I really had been contemplating my death. I’d come to terms with it and accepted it. I also, however, had known Dimitri might do something exactly like this. He was just that fast and that good. That was why I was holding my stake in the hand that was dangling free. I looked him in the eye. "I will always love you." Then I plunged the stake into his chest. It wasn’t as precise a blow as I would have liked, not with the skilled way he was dodging. I struggled to get the stake in deep enough to his heart, unsure if I could do it from this angle. Then, his struggles stopped. His eyes stared at me, stunned, and his lips parted, almost into a smile, albeit a grisly and pained one. "That’s what I was supposed to say. . .” he gasped out. Those were his last words.

Stories of Fantasy are nothing more than the retelling of our own triumphs and sad, sad tragedies ... Tod Langley I have that painted on my office wall and love to stare at it.

Stories matter in an enchanted forest.

Strong hands slipped over her shoulders as Alex joined us, standing so close, I could feel his body heat radiating up my back….He squeezed my shoulders a little hard for it to be a show of solidarity. I’d probably have bruises. He was marking his territory.

Stupid girl. You will never win anyone through pity. You must create the right kind of dream, the sober, adult kind of magic: illusion born from disillusion.

Submitted for your approval--the curious case of Colleen O’Brien and the gorgeous time traveling Scot who landed in her living room.” – Rod Serling

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

Success is hard, rewards are scant and the glory not always there.

Success is math; not magic. It is the sum of a behavioral equation… not the spontaneous fruition of wishful thinking.

Success is no magic; grab a handful of hope and never let it go till you get there!

Suddenly, the shadow disappeared through the wall! Maybe the shadow disappeared again.Can we please go back home now?I really don’t like it here & I’m scared! Julia pleaded. The shadow was standing by a very small cage, pointing its long, thin finger towards the floor.

Such is my curse, Branwyn O'Tyre. Every woman I touch is forced to lavish her affections upon me.

Suffering took hold of me like a magic spell abolishing all differences between friends and strangers.

Suddenly the zephyr kicked up the leaves as well, and Sylvia saw something like a great, green angel arise in the spot where the mask had lain. Sylvia stood frozen to the spot watching as a face of living wood took shape from the mask-like object and rose over six feet with the leaves flowing over limbs.

Supernaturals is a broad term used to classify beings that include Elementals and numerous other creatures. Like what? The list is endless. Witches, Demons, Spirits, stuff like that. Wow, I commented dryly. It's like a giant Halloween party isn't it?

Sweet Jesus," he whispered, trailing kisses along the line of her jaw. "Our excavation must have freed some deep, dark ancient enchantment from the earth. How else to explain this magic?

Symbols fell from her lips like glowing glimmers of smoke and every star in the sky winked out. Well, that's more extreme than I intended, Nadya thought with a wince. I should've known better than to ask Horz for anything.

Take a deep breath and pause for one minute without doing anything! There did you feel the magic?

Take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are magic.

Take that absurd fool Elipas Levi who was supposed to be the Grand High Whatnot in Victorian times. Did you ever read his book, The Doctrine and Ritual of Magic? In his introduction he professes that he is going to tell you all about the game and that he’s written a really practical book, by the aid of which anybody who likes can raise the devil, and perform all sorts of monkey tricks. He drools on for hundreds of pages about fiery swords and tetragrams and the terrible aqua poffana, but does he tell you anything? Not a blessed thing. Once it comes to a showdown he hedges like the crook he was and tells you that such mysteries are far too terrible and dangerous to be entrusted to the profane. Mysterious balderdash my friend. I’m going to have a good strong nightcap and go to bed.

Talismans can only be perceived but never fully translated into words.

Talking big in dark corners seldom achieves anything other than getting you into trouble.

Teach him something useful, will you?" Elorian shook his head. "It is like housebreaking a puppy. There are bound to be lots of accidents and lots of cleanups." Frustrated beyond measure with the whole situation, her missing staff, an out-of control mage, a frozen mage, and a cursed phantom fae turned raven, Ena couldn't believe the mess they were in.

Tea is just an excuse. i am drinking this sunset, this evening. and you.

That's how I do this life sometimes by making the ordinary just like magic and just like a card trick and just like a mirror and just like the disappearing. Every Indian learns how to be a magician and learns how to misdirect attention and the dark hand is always quicker than the white eye and no matter how close you get to my heart you will never find out my secrets and I'll never tell you and I'll never show you the same trick twice. I'm traveling heavy with illusions.

Thank God!" he said, and kissed her. Kissing Mairelon was much nicer than anything she had ever dared to imagine, despite the headache.

Thank God I didn't have to see his smug face. Sometimes, I wished I had a pie that I could smash into it. Well, if by pie I meant anvil, then yes. I smiled at the visual. I really was sick.

That poor innocent snake was far more terrified of Nana then she ever was of the snake. Cricket could barely believe her eyes, but when that shotgun went off with a boom so did the snake. Up until yesterday, Cricket had never seen a snake fly!

That's the thing about magic; you've got to know it's still here, all around us, or it just stays invisible for you.

That's the tragedy of fairy tales. The whole world puts them on a pedestal. People want their lives to be magical, but what people don't understand is that happiness is sacrificed. There is so much more to the story than what is written. The Cinderella you think she's so unfortunate with her mean sisters and stepmom. You think she deserves a happy ending with a prince, but the twenty-page journey is all you see. You learn little about who she is. What if Cinderella's just a good actress who has everyone fooled, when really, she sucks. She more than sucks.

That’s the beauty of magic. You can get it no matter how rich or poor you are.

That's the Wildcat I remember.

That's what you people never understand," said Rincewind, wearily. "You think magic is just something you can pick up and use like a, a -" "Parsnip?" said Nijel. "Wine Bottle?" said the Seriph. "Something like that," said Rincewind cautiously, but rallied somewhat and went on, "But the truth is, is -" "Not like that?" "More like a wine bottle?" said the Seriph hopefully. "Magic uses people," said Rincewind hurriedly. "It affects you as much as you affect it, sort of thing. You can't mess around with magical things without it affecting you. I just thought I'd better warn you." "Like a wine bottle," said Creosote, "that -" "- drinks you back," said Rincewind.

That was magic, sweetest.” The witch flexed her fingers, wriggled them in front of her. “Did she think it a wave of the hands? A slip of the tongue?” A kiss upon her skin. She could see the woman reaching out and taking her in hand, kissing each finger as though they were her possessions. Then it was gone. Charlotte blinked. The woman had not stirred. “Not all things are so simple. I was he and he was me and I took your poison into myself, and made it his. All things join beneath the earth. I burned, then so did he. More will burn. Come hair or wool, more will burn.

That which you call magic is simply not allowing the world to be other than as you will it.

That will teach me to meddle with magic meant for kings! Norrell is right. Some magic is not meant for ordinary magicians. Presumably John Uskglass knew what to do with this horrible knowledge. I do not.

Technically,' I said, "I'm not breaking any of the Laws of Magic. I'm not robbing you of your will, so I'm clear of the Fourth Law. And you didn't get loose, so I'm clear of the Seventh Law. The Council can bite me.' The bone ridges above Chauncy's eyes twitched. 'Surely, that is merely a colorful euphemism, rather than a statement of desire.' 'It is.

That guy with the silver hair, he’s your dad, right?” Amber questioned, surveying the scene. “Yes,” I said, reluctant to say anything but, considering what was happening, figured was the least of my worries. “Ooo la la. He’s, like, totally diesel. Look at those arms.” She went on, admiring my dad to a sickening degree. “All right, jailbait, back off. It’s practically incest.” She sucked air through her teeth. “I know,” she said regretfully. “But a girl can dream. And I have a feeling he’s going to be starring in a lot of them.

- '' That's nonsense young one, Your dreams are not very logical '' - '' The only non-sense I see here, is a living a life; blinded, By all that could have taken your breath away.

That's our cue to depart." "They know something " I pointed out. "I know something too. I know we're going to attract a lot of unwanted attention if they keep screaming. And then we have to make up some ridiculous explanation about how we heard screaming through the vents in our rooms and we followed the sound back to the basement and we found these girls lying on the ground and pretending to be tied up by invisible rope because they're practicing for the regional mime championships." I blinked at her. "Is that explanation more or less believable than we woke up because two girls who are actually evil magicians tripped a magical alarm wired to a door in the basement we aren't supposed to know about " Scout paused for a minute then nodded. "Point made.

That somehow, this insufferable girl would become the one person I am forever, hopelessly, madly drawn to against my will and possibly even my better judgment.

That's what you would do with untold power? Eat cake?

...that witchcraft requires no potions, familiar spirits, or magic wands. Language upon a silver tongue affords enchantment enough.

The archetype of the witch is long overdue for celebration. Daughters, mothers, queens, virgins, wives, et al. derive meaning from their relation to another person. Witches, on the other hand, have power on their own terms. They have agency. They create. They praise. They commune with nature/ Spirit/God/dess/Choose-your-own-semantics, freely, and free of any mediator. But most importantly: they make things happen. The best definition of magic I’ve been able to come up with is “symbolic action with intent" — “action" being the operative word. Witches are midwives to metamorphosis. They are magical women, and they, quite literally, change the world.

The air was full of salt and secrets.

The art of a Talismanist is to let you experience the Mysterious.

That's magic I admire, using something that exists anyway and turning it round into a curse.

The bet comes to the place it knows, It does not miss its former path, No kind of magic holds it back It comes to those who give it water.

The best teacher you'll ever have is yourself. I'm not your teacher! I'm here only to show you the way towards what you already know, and also, show you a way to find out what you don't know but feel that it exists.