Best 397 quotes in «witch quotes» category

She eased across the creaking floorboards to the nearest window. The view encompassed the woods, with dark shapes smeared into one entity, like in her sketchbook. What lay amongst the trees?

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.

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.

She narrowed her eyes at Ciera. “You know, for a smart lady, you’re kinda dumb about some real-life stuff, aren’t you?

She said, “Thank God. The spell didn’t recognize you as an enemy.” He gave in to his impulse at last and cupped her chin, stepping close so that he could feel the heat from her body. It was a subtle warmth that touched him in places he didn’t understand and had long denied existed. “That’s because I’m not your enemy, Sophie.

She sagged against the wall, finding it hard to breathe. It wasn’t from fear. Gods, she hadn’t been that turned on in years. If that was her punishment, she was going to be lippy a little more often

She's magic, Cassandra. A single flower blooming in an endless desert.

She's as old as the hills, evil as a snake, all malevolence and magic and death.

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.

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.

She swung around, her hair flying about her like wildfire. Fire. The fireplace. She reached in with all the power Todd had taught her ti 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.

She wanted to lick her way across the sexy lettering on his chest just to hear his breath catch and feel the pounding of his heart beneath her tongue.

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 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.

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.

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

Some of the best advice you will ever hear will come from the forest.

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

Some of the more superstitious townsfolk even believed she was a witch. The fact that she had four dead husbands lined up in a neat row at the local Promise Land Cemetery was not an argument in her defense.

Sometimes thought Liir-his first thought in weeks and weeks-sometimes I hate this marvelous land of ours. It's so much like home, and then it holds out on you.

So, you're the Santa Claus of the magic world with a naughty and nice list?

Son, if you were any farther from fine you'd be in Nebraska.

Staring at a world too horrible to comprehend, believing -- by dint of ignorance and innocence -- that beneath this unbearable contract of guilt and blame there is always an older contract that may bind and release in a more salutary way.

Spellwork is a form of creation. Manifesting the invisible and the imaginable into real life verifiable forms, through perfectly natural means.

Surface beauty: blond hair, blue eyes" - she was looking at me - "is always easy to recognize. But if someone is braver, stronger, smarter, that's harder to see." - Kendra Hilferty

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?

Surrounded by death and decay rotting from bones to bones, my flesh lays bare the blubbery fat, traverse the land i shall, finding babies to devour, performing rituals of ancient magic, I, the witch of yore… Beware! i wander these places with guile and pure vice, All of you shall be my victims, I, the witch of yore, eternal dweller of internet message boards.

Take me deep into the woods, away from the others and make love to me, Killian, for I cannot bear to be parted from you any longer!” she whispered in his ear.

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

That little baggage hath witchcraft in her.

The enemy of her enemy was not necessarily her friend.

That woman's been riding the same broomstick for almost a hundred years.

The evening pulsed with omens gentle to the eyes, and Valentina had a romantic crush on it all, like every good witch should.

The man needed USDA Prime tattooed up his flank.

The old crone smiles crookedly and sighs. “There is more to magic than darkness, my dear.

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")

Then what’s changed?” You are the only witch in all of Antebellum who has earned Deasyvla’s trust and fully merged with a dragon. She shrugged. “So?” You, Sanna of Anguis, are now the High Dragonmaster.

The older wounds had long ago taken hold of her body, leaving behind a map of her biggest victories.

The Neo-Pagan Ten “Commandments” 1. Thou art God/dess. 2. As above, so below; as within so without. 3. Spirit abides in all things; words & names have power. 4. Maintain an attitude of gratitude (walk the talk). 5. Honor the ancestors, teachers, elders, and leaders. 6. All life is sacred. 7. All acts of love and pleasure are sacred. 8. Whatever you send out returns threefold. 9. Love is the law, love under will. 10. For the greatest good, an’ it harm none.

Then she’d straightened up and announced in irritation, “I’ve fallen out of time,” before vanishing in a great cloud of smoke.

Then your tail will divide and shrink until it becomes what the people on earth call a pair of shapely legs. But it will hurt; it will feel as if a sharp sword slashed through you. Everyone who sees you will say that you are the most graceful human being they have ever laid eyes on, for you will keep your gliding movement and no dancer will be able to tread as lightly as you. But every step you take will feel as if you were treading upon knife blades so sharp that blood must flow. I am willing to help you, but are you willing to suffer all this?" "Yes," the little mermaid said in a trembling voice, as she thought of the Prince and of gaining a human soul.

The one who's afraid has already lost.

The room flashed brighter still and then gasps filled the room. They were all gathered around Roxy and she was unsure why. She didn’t feel any different, Hadn’t the spell worked ? Roxy opened her mouth to speak and then she heard it…… a purr.

The Professor gripped his axe, having pulled it, with some difficulty, from the boy's head.

There is nothing more powerful than a witch who knows how to contain her power. Standing comfortably within its mystery and allure.

There’s dark magic there,” Luc warned. “Creatures who like the cold, who like girls who wander into their woods. Whatever you do, don’t let them kiss you.

There was nothing else in the entire universe, nothing but the two of them together. Her curves, his angles. Her light, his darkness. Her softness, his exquisitely aching hardness. Male. Female.

There is a collective force reawakening on the Earth each day: the reawakening of the Witch. Within every woman drawn to the path of witchcraft resides the powerful spirit of the Witch.

There is no such thing as White Magick or Black Magick. If you are participating in magick, you are interfering with the natural order of how life would have developed without your hand in it. You are manipulating reality to suit your own personal needs. Regardless of whether you perceive it as "positive" or "white light", you are manipulating life. If you are afraid of this responsibly or are intimidated by this statement, I encourage you to reexamine your belief structure. Witchcraft requires confidence and courage.

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