Best 3503 quotes in «magic quotes» category

She stared at the leaf in her hands and then at me. “What the hell was that?” “That was you,” I said. “You’re magic.

She squinted at his nametag. Her eyes weren't quite working. "What's your name?" "Stig." "Stick?" she asked, half ready to believe it. He shook his head and pointed his long index finger at the name stitched on his uniform. "S-T-I-G. Stig." Harriet's breath caught. "I can't believe it. I've been looking for you.

She tilted her chin up and gave him a big cheeky grin. “I’m official.” Kylah pulled her shirt to the side to reveal her mark. “See.” A low growl came from Aerric when she showed a little more than just her mark. He moved to pull her close and she chuckled right before she shimmered out. “Catch me if you can, dragon boy.

She told me that if magic gives people what they want, then not using magic can give them what they need.

She told me later that her parents had told her to steer clear of me at school. "My mum said that nobody really knew where you came from. And that you might be dangerous." "Why didn't you listen to her?" I asked. "Because nobody knew where you came from, Simon! And you might be dangerous!" "You have the worst survival instincts." "Also, I felt sorry for you," she said. "You were holding your wand backwards.

She was both strikingly gorgeous and completely natural, and her perceptive eyes said she was not afraid to wield said power over a man.

She wasn’t looking at herself in the glass, but out at a great silver moon hanging beyond a thin metal balcony that looked over the grey towers of a human city.

She was tasked with guarding the doorway to the Otherworld, keeping the balance of nature (as much as anyone could in these modern times), and occasionally, helping a worthy seeker.

She was sleeping on the bed like a novel that is yet to be read and he sat on the floor, reading her, moving his fingers through her hair and staring at her face like she was magic that none ever understood.

She was the one person he’d hoped to avoid as much as possible when he’d taken his place as Sheriff of Maxville. It wasn’t that he disliked her, that was the problem. Despite his better judgment and a glutton for punishment, he still cared too damn much for the woman.

She was the kind of elegance That would never tarnish. A mixture of lace and mesh, Like a classic heirloom that begged to be worn. She was sharp intellect and quick wit. The type of woman that spoke her mind, Even if it shook. (Or even if no one was listening.) She was beautiful. But not someone you’d see in magazines, Her hips were too wide, her hair a mess of wispy tendrils, (Rather, she was actually very ordinary.) My, was she stubborn! She’d drive you mad! (Sometimes, you’d probably call her crazy.) But mostly, her laughter was a joyful moments. Like a warm towel fresh from the dryer, Or finding a twenty-dollar bill in your winter coat. And that was the true revelation. That magic does exist, It ran through her like a wild, fiery current.

She: You are just adorable! I can never forget that you helped me fight depression! He: You are magic! You made me fall in love with life again!

She wrote love with her smile and magic with her eyes.

She: You are just adorable! I can never forget that you helped me fight depression! He: You are magic! You made me fall in love with life!

She would have found it peaceful and relaxing here, but in every town they traveled through, people radiated anxiety under uneasy masks of optimism. Their dependency on magic had made them nearly helpless now that everything magical was corrupted.

Sikander was right—they were just stories, and stories couldn’t save people. Maybe those stories did more harm than good by giving us false hope. All they did was reinforce our faith that the world was once made up almost entirely of magic or miracles. But where was that magic now, when we needed it?

Silent. So it should be. You have no place in this world, Luthiel. And there is no other.' Zalos reached out and lifted a few strands of her hair. 'Bright songs and the magic of hope are but a dangerous illusion. The fake comfort of witches charms.

Silent as shadows. Bold as night. Calm as wind. One shall die tonight.

Silver constellations sparkled across the velvet sky, revealing the mythical creatures that lingered in the valley of stars.

Since moving to the Castle, she'd discovered that only the white men talked of "black magic." As though magic had a color.

Since that night you walked through my dreams, the world is full of magic things.

Since when do wizards wear robes?" I whispered. "That's falling into every human stereotype ever created." Jeezum. Next thing you knew, they'd be waving around magic wands. "The First Elder thought they'd look more intimidating in robes than in business suits," Alex whispered back. "They look like they're on their way to a costume party at Hogwarts.

Slap on a plume and call me a Fuerma, I can’t believe you’re the Ieta.

Sitting to think of what to write will only set your ass on fire, give you headache, twist your face to look stupid, instead, walk around with a blank mind and something from somewhere will fill it up.

Sitting at the old patio table she’d cleared of leaves, she smiled and leaned back. The stars looked twisted in the limbs of the trees, like Christmas lights. She felt like part of the hollow around her was filling. She’d come here with too many expectations.

[...] Sivesh cried one name aloud. It was the name of Azhrarn, and in that name was all the pain and loneliness and despair and accusation that any mortal throat could utter.

Slicker than snot on a door handle.

Sleight comes with exercise, subtlety comes with experience.

Small Acts of Kindness are Priceless

So Blue sat down on the path and faced Grayson, and told him all about his world. He told him about the humans, his mother and sister, and how they went away. He told him about the long nights alone in the kennel, and the sadness that seemed to come from other dogs. All the while Grayson stared at him with his wide yellow eyes. He seemed amazed, and even sometimes frightened, as Blue recounted all the details. Finally, when he was finished telling his story, Grayson said 'You come from a scary world, Blue. A very scary and sad world indeed. It's so different from the magical forest where no one is ever alone, and no one is ever sad. ..

So, apart from casting runes, what other hobbies do you have? Forbidden rituals, human sacrifices, torturing? –

So confusing. It was some kind of magic, I knew that for sure, but I didn't understand the subtleties of it all. You'd have thought all those years of HBO and shit would have prepared me better.

So how did you do it? What makes the cold-hearted princeling mortal like the rest of us?

So is that a yes,' the sheriff asked. Daniel held his breath. The lawsuit, the cost of bail, these were enough to push Clyde into the zone. The world stopped on Rita's next breath. A single assertion could end this mess--protective custody; the sheriff would shield Daniel from Clyde's wrath. 'No,' Rita said in a steady strong voice. 'My husband does not abuse us.' The lie kicked Daniel as hard as Clyde's boot.

Solitude makes a writer weave magic with his pen.

Someday, Ry, you are going to realize who Darren really is. He’s a prince, and he’s only going to break your heart.

Some magicians say that magic shatters your worldview. But I think magic holds the world together. It’s dark matter; it’s the glue of reality, the putty that fills the holes between everything we know to be true.

Some Fairy tales are meant to teach us lessons, some may come true, sometimes Magic is real....

Some mystical concepts are an alchemical experience.

Some instantaneous connection had occurred between them. The very air in the room seemed to crackle with the awareness of it. A wave of heat suffused her body to centre between her legs, suddenly she felt breathless and hyper aware of him. There was no way this man could remain unaffected by the sheer magnitude of the invisible bonds that had just linked them irretrievably together. She wondered what he was thinking behind those beautiful navy blue eyes. Okay so she didn’t really expect him to open his mouth and spout poetry or declare his undying love but she certainly wasn’t prepared for his next words. “You aren’t going to throw up are you? This is one of my favourite suits.

Someone smashed a flutterfler and without even thinking she touched her Stone and used Wyrd to piece its broken body back together. She filled its empty vessels with dreams and it became the stuff it used for blood. It brushed her cheek with its wings, then flew off -- dancing in the hot air.

Some people allow you to be yourself when they are with you. They are magic!

Someone once said that love is the closest thing to magic that this world has, but magic enchants, deceives and casts a spell.

Some people are magic, and others are just the illusion of it.

Something that sounded like ripping metal shredded the deadly quiet. The inaudible bass smoothed into a low, steady hum. Outside, a low, mechanical growl rumbled closer and closer. Darius caught his breath. He knew that sound, and it wasn't magic. It was a motorcycle.

Some people spend their entire lives seeing the snow without ever seeing the magic in the existence of one snowflake.

...something was starting to take shape, out of magic and will. Smoke and bone.

Something stirred within her as she felt the truth in Anna’s words, but just to be sure she understood correctly, asked, “The Akashic record is a library?” Anna smiled. “Yes, a non-physical library containing all the knowledge of every souls life since before time. Look at it as similar to human technology, the internet, you can't see the connection, yet all the information is available at your fingertips. It works like that, we each have the capability to connect from inside. Only, most humans haven't learned to unlock the code, yet. Vo-ror-bla is the bright center of an invisible universal web called Siathia, which weaves and connects all life in existence.

Something breathing, something bleeding, something blue. It was time to cast her first spell as the Gargoyle.

Something soft turn to stone within her. She had no choice. She had to fight. She had to win. She would learn. And then she'd free them. Or join them.