Best 397 quotes in «witch quotes» category

Adam leaned down and placed his lips next to her ear. He blew gently on it before he spoke. Mona leaned even closer into him as she listened intently to his words. "Desdemona." She moaned at the sound of her name on his lips. "I need to tell you something." His words were accompanied by warm air caressing her skin. "Before my time is done, I will watch the light fade from your eyes as you are sent to the hell you so deserve." Though his words promised destruction, the cadence of his voice still held her in a seductive rapture.

A female magician named Catherine Trianon, who lived together 'as man and wife' with another cunning-woman, was described as having more learning 'in the tip of her finger' than others acquired in a lifetime. When her house was searched in 1680 twenty-five manuscript volumes on the occult sciences were found.

Alanna Carrington, head witch of the Philadelphia Coven, hurtled his way, and with her, trouble was a guarantee.

Alec moved his mouth over her neck and the top edge of her breasts. “You must really want me to heat you up.” A hint of humor sparkled through the deep velvet tone. “To volcanic levels,” she replied.

All it takes is one small voice to make a difference." ~Artum Keogh~

All my life,I've been afraid of things, as a child and a woman must be. I lied about it naturally. I fancied myself a witch and walked in dark streets to punish myself for my doubts. But I knew what it meant to be afraid. And now, in this darkness, I fear nothing. If you were to leave me here, I would feel nothing. I would walk as I am walking now. As a man, you can't know what I mean by what I say.You can't know a woman's vulnerability. You can't know the sense of power that belongs to me now.

A long time ago I lived in Lisbon,' she said, in softly slurred Portuguese that made the name of the city Leesh-boa. 'But before that, meus neto, my tribe was in the mountains where there are only old things, like the trees and the rocks and the streams. There are truths to be learned from the old things -' She hesitated, and her brown, shrunken claw closed over Pete's hand. 'Do you know the truth, Pedrinho?' ("Before I Wake...")

Always the wild child, conceived in flames, born of fire. Drawn to the forbidden, witch, warlock, burning stones. Her blood is made of moonlight; part dark, part light. Her heart, it's a sword; fiercely loyal and will fight to the death for those whom she loves. You can throw her in the fire, she always returns as a flame: the fervor is her anchor, her safe-haven... her blood.

Always life would bring with it joy and sorrow combined. To allow herself to love and to love well, she opened her heart to loss, but to live without love would truly be no life at all. Alainn was well aware with any great love there would be great loss. It was both the cost and the reward of loving.

Also, in the dismal Cold Waste, any man treasures illusions, though knowing them almost certainly to be such.

And she was angry because she knew she was capable of many things she couldn't even define to herself, so they seemed like bad dreams - that is what she told me. She told me she was eaten up with unused power and thought she might be a witch - except, she said, if she were a man, these things she thought about would be ordinarily acceptable.

...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.

And if I said "because I'm a witch," they'd think I was crazy.' 'That's exactly right,' she confirmed. 'Because everybody knows witches aren't real.' She nodded. 'Yes.' 'Except they really are real.' She continued nodding. 'Mm-hmm.' 'But you also told me Santa and the tooth fairy were real.' 'Those were lies,' she said. 'But they're lies every parent tells their children. So they're not really lies so much as a script.' 'I slept with teeth under my pillow, so it seems like a lie to me.

An experienced Witch takes magickal action based on inspiration, NOT desperation.

An experienced witch does not rely on karma. She relies on magickal justice.

Any divinity that can't see me as a good witch in street clothes has no business hanging up a shingle as a god.

An older witch once told me about this French saying – vous tombez bien.” “What does that mean?” Alec asked. “You’ve fallen well.

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

Are you awake then, Lainna?” he shispered gently against her ear. “Aye, well, if I wasn’t already awake I soon would be with you pokin’ me with your diddler!

A real relationship with nature is vital for our magical and spiritual development, and our psychic and spiritual health. It is also a vital base for any work we do to heal the earth and transform the social and political systems that are assaulting her daily.

Are you always so mistrusting?” he said, lifting a brow. “When my escort is a demon, yes.

As it was, she never wanted to leave her bed because it meant seeing him when she fell asleep.

As Eldon continued to look around, he was anxious to realize people were gathering in the square. They paused to glower in disgust at Tobias, and a few bold children riding past on bicycles slowed down to stick out their tongues. Eldon heard Tobias mutter something under his breath, and as the children rode away, they lost control of their bikes and crashed into each other. “Toby!” “Are you rested now?” said Tobias, ignoring Eldon’s shock.

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

A wise witch knows the shadows come from the light.

As she glanced down at the great distance to the ground below, she whispered in his ear, "You have obviously taken the heights of passion to an entirely new level, Killian O'Brien!

At that instant the hag's noisy breathing stopped and with it all other sound. Her eyes opened, showing only whites - milky ovals infinitely eerie in the dark root-tangle of her sharp features and stringy hair. The gray tip of her tongue traveled like a large maggot around her lips.

A Witch awakens within herself qualities of the elements and forces of nature.

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

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.

Bad leather, Viking gods should be naked.

A Witch is a person who has honestly explored their light and has evolved to celebrate their darkness.

A witch works with the truth of the Earth itself.

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.

Beautiful. Autumn-raw. She must be a witch of some kind,

A witch stands comfortably within her mystery and allure.

Be a witch they cannot burn.

Becoming a Witch isn't something we acquire. The Witch is already within us. She is someone we become ready and willing to embrace. Someone we realize we ARE.

because she should be sure in her soul that the most terrifying thing in the forest was her

Being normal isn't that miserable." "Try it for a thousand years in a row, and you'll be grateful for a little zaniness.

Mace humphed. “You think I can’t protect you from a few uneducated humans?” He pulled into the lot, jerked the car into park, and shut off the engine. There was that confounding attitude again. “That’s not what I mean. But now that you mention it, we haven’t had a whole lot of luck keeping out of trouble, and this place screams trouble.” “I scream trouble,” Mace growled and exited the car.

Burning the witch Giordano Bruno is one more wound inflicted on Christ’s body.

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")

Carefully bracing himself so that he wouldn't hurt her, he leaned over and brushed his lips against hers. He raised his head. Her haunted sapphire eyes stared at him. "Daemon?" There was so much uncertainty in her voice. "Hello, sweetheart," he said, his voice husky with the effort not to cry. "I've missed you." Her hand moved slowly, with effort, until it rested against his face. Her lips curved into a smile. "Daemon." This time, when she said his name, it sounded like a promise, like a lovely caress.

Considering she’d conjured him, she supposed he should be drool-worthy. After all, he was the closest thing to a long term relationship she’d ever had, despite him totally being a figment.

Crazy is such a misunderstood term. I like to think that I march to the beat of my own drummer.

But I needed this, Whit. I needed to pay him back. For stealing my life. For stealing our life together. - Celia

But we have no [Marian] apparitions cautioning the Church against, say, accepting the delusion of an Earth-centered Universe, or warning it of complicity with Nazi Germany — two matters of considerable moral as well as historical import.... Not a single saint criticized the practice of torturing and burning “witches” and heretics. Why not? Were they unaware of what was going on? Could they not grasp its evil? And why is [the Virgin] Mary always admonishing the poor peasant to inform the authorities? Why doesn’t she admonish the authorities herself? Or the King? Or the Pope?

By God, Lainna, have you truly no notion how badly I want you, then?" "Oh, but did you not once tell me the anticipation is half the pleasure of it?

Christ can forgive you," he whispered, though he didn't believe it. There wasn't a hint of compassion in those ice-blue eyes. "That's grand," she said. Her features became again those of the pleasant brown-haired nurse. She smiled, pulled the pillow from under his head, and covered his face.