Best 650 quotes in «witches quotes» category

In unison, they recited an ancient rhyme. "With one blue eye to rule the sky, An eye of brown controls the ground; Magic swirls within our souls, Cryptic, mystic, spiritualistic, To protect the weak from evil's effect, Elements guide us, ever bind us. A band of witches scattered wide From Warlock Morpheus we must hide.

I put the carpetbag on a ledge, and then, hanging upside down by my razor-clawed feet, slept until sunset. A first for me, and actually quite comfortable. Lord help me.

I said say my name, daughter, or I’ll slit your throat before cutting my children from your womb.

I see this is not the first time you've gotten yourself injured," she said, sounding irritated. "I suppose battle scars are a badge of honor for you Highlanders." He shrugged. "Every scar provides a tale to share around the hearth." "You should be more careful," she scolded. "I am careful," he said with a laugh. "That's why I live to tell the tales.

Is he evil?" the dog asked, an eager gleam in his wide brown eyes. "If he's evil, I'd be happy to eat him for you.

I sighed. “What’s a couple of bullets to the chest when compared to a grenade? Bulletproof vests are great things. Every girl should have one.” Blain, RJ (2014-05-11). Inquisitor (Witch & Wolf Book 1) (Kindle Locations 1452-1453). Pen & Page Publishing. Kindle Edition.

I sighed. "Would it be too much to ask that Asgard be peaceful? Made up of big, fluffy clouds, serenity, and lots of hot yoga?

I swear. Tell someone you're a vampire or a werewolf and they think it's sexy. Tell someone you're a witch and they go from zero to Torquemada in three seconds flat.

I should tell you something about what happens after I play." "What's that?" He pulled her back into his arms. "I get excited...

I spent most of my life believing there would never be a Prince Charming out there for me. Kissing toads can have that effect on a girl.

Is that why this body of yours is in such perfect shape? Because it’s in damn excellent condition for being ten centuries old.

I tell you, Richard, if you ever get ready to sell your soul, don’t bother to sell it to another human being. It’s bad business to even consider such a thing.

I think I finally understand the saying like a moth to a flame. I’m the moth. My heart flutters like the paper thin wings. And he is the flame, incendiary, scorching my soul. He inhales so heavily, like he’s been holding his breath under water. He presses his lips against mine and tugs at my hair gently. My head falls back and my mouth falls open. His tongue, slick as silver, dances with mine. I’m wrong. I’m not a moth. I’m Icarus and I’ve flown too close to the sun.

I think she’s too ignorant to be a witch.

I swore I wasn't going to rescue any more damsels in distress," Day muttered. To his surprise, Barbara gave him a lopsided grin, banging on the side of the trailer to make it produce a door. "What makes you think she isn't rescuing you?" she asked, and stomped inside without a backward look.

It is not the sort of place where one would expect to find a witch. But a witch did live there, though she is not buried there.

It might have interested Newt to know that, of the thirty-nine thousand women tested with the pin during the centuries of witch-hunting, twenty-nine thousand said “ouch,” nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine didn’t feel anything because of the use of the aforesaid retractable pins, and one witch declared that it had miraculously cleared up the arthritis in her leg.

I took a step back, shaking my head, wishing I could place a gnarly black hex on him. My daddy taught me better than that.

It's about damned time," he said in a husky voice. "If I had to wait five more minutes to kiss you, I think I probably would have turned into a dragon myself.

It’s a terrible thing to limp along the sides of a life you once ran through.

It was Jaenelle's voice, but... She was medium height, slender, and fair-skinned. Her gold mane--not quite hair and not quite fur--was brushed up and back from her exotic face and didn't hide the delicately pointed ears. In the center of her forehead was a tiny, spiral horn. A narrow strip of gold fur traced her spine, ending in a small gold and white fawn tail that flicked over her bare buttocks. The legs were human and shapely, but changed below the calf. Instead of feet, she had dainty horse's hooves. Her human hands had sheathed claws like a cat's. As she shifted position to slip another shard into place, he saw the small, round breasts, the feminine curve of waist and hips, the dark-gold triangle of hair between her legs. Who...? But he knew. Even before she walked over and looked at him, even before he saw the feral intelligence in those ancient, haunted sapphire eyes, he knew. Terrifying and beautiful. Human and Other. Gentle and violent. Innocent and wise. *I am Witch,* she said, a small, defiant quiver in her voice. *I know.* His voice had a seductive throb in it, a hunger he couldn't control or mask.

It was hard to say which one was real – the face she showed the world during the day or the one she hid at night. Maybe neither.

It was not accustomed to being summoned.

It wasn’t like he was going to bite her—and she was immediately sorry she’d thought of that, because hey, it sounded kind of hot. What she wouldn’t give just for a repeat of that killer kiss…

I've a need for knowing what potion you mixed with these, lass." The rich baritone of his voice washed over her with a mesmerizing quality. She liked the sound. A lot. 'Twas deep and majestic, the kind of voice a body would never tire of hearing.... Apparently we have company. We shall finish this conversation anon." "I highly doubt that we will," she retorted. "My brother has arrived to accuse me of witchcraft and arrest me. Unless you are available for hire as my protector, this conversation is quite finished." Instead of appearing shocked, the stranger's eyes took on a twinkle. "Is that so? Most damsels in your distressed shoes would be either weeping or swooning by now. Instead you offer me employment. I'll admit I am fascinated by your offer.

I've got the perfect dress. It's going to knock your socks off." Marcus wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but he couldn't wait to find out.

I wanted to hear him disappoint me in that sexy domineering way he always did.

I want to know who killed my father,” Peter growled, shrugging off her fingers and pushing himself away from the wall to stand up straight. “If you think you can help me with that, then you are welcome to try.

I think when magic is dark enough, it can look like anything it wants.

I think you’ve forgotten that this place holds a lot more than just betraying Hobgoblins. Call upon the spirits, summon fairies, raise the dead! My brother, you have the power to do so--now get off of your butt and use it!

I thought that you would be frozen in awe when you found the sequence, when you heard a bird's song repeating my Morse code, my cry for help, my S.O.S, when you saw the same numbers in the petals of a flower and the structure of a pine cone, when you saw with your own eyes the interconnectedness of all things. But I was wrong. You searched for a male god, a creator, an intelligent designer, or you banished the beauty and mystery of the world beneath the cold concrete grave of closed-eye skepticism. The few of you who could still hear my music felt tortured and misunderstood; you reached out for any conspiracy theory large enough to explain your alienated despair, your sense that the Earth was dying and no one cared. But listen to me -- you are not alone. Run your fingers through the grass and grab it in your fists, feel my pulse echoing through your blood. You. Are. Not. Alone. And I -- I am not dead yet.

i want you so much I feel like I'm going to explode." "I hear that Marines are good with explosions," Beka said.

It is Halloween,” he explains coyly. “I wanted to come out as something beautiful. None of this witch stuff for me. My God, don’t we spend our whole life as witches?

I was born ready.' Zoe to Fee.

I was born on the night of Samhain, when the barrier between the worlds is whisper-thin and when magic, old magic, sings its heady and sweet song to anyone who cares to hear it.

I was not being mean. Mean was her mother giving her the name Bernice Woodward. Ryals, R.K.. Cursed (The Thorne Trilogy Book 1) (Kindle Locations 66-67). . Kindle Edition.

I was so sleep deprived that I could barely see straight as we walked into the soundless dark. I tried to get the boy to speak to me but he just continued walking forward without muttering a word.

I was so close to her that I could lean down just a bit...her lips were so close...I could lean down and kiss those full pink lips. I heard her heartbeat speeding up in her chest and it almost shattered any control that I had.

I will do what I must to protect you. If you were seriously hurt…Don’t make me live with that. Don’t make me have to survive your death.

I will keep my bulk. All of it, if ye dinna mind. I will have need of it, thank ye." Derrick to Samantha.

I will keep my bulk. All of it, if ye dinna mind. I will have need of it, thank ye." Derrick

I want to move my hands, but they’re fused to his rib cage. I feel his lung span, his heartbeat, his very life force wrapped in these flimsy bars of bone. So fragile yet so solid. Like a brick wall with wet mortar. A juxtaposition of hard and soft. He inhales again. “Jayme,” he says my name with a mix of sigh and inquiry. I open my eyes and peer into his flushed face. Roses have bloomed on his ruddy cheeks and he looks as though he’s raced the wind. “Mm?” I reply. My mind is full of babble, I’m so high. “Jayme,” he’s insistent, almost pleading. “What are you?” Instantaneous is the cold alarm that douses the flames still dancing in my heart. I feel the nervousness that whispers through me like a cool breeze in the leaves. “What do you mean?” I ask, the disquiet wringing the strength from my voice. “It doesn’t hurt anymore,” he explains, inhaling deeply. I feel the line of a frown between my brows. Gingerly, I lift the hem of his shirt. And as sure as I am that the world is round and that the sky is, indeed, blue the bruises and welts on his torso have faded to nothingness, the golden tan of his skin is sun-kissed perfection. Panic has me frozen as I stare. “I don’t understand,” I whisper. He looks down at his exposed abdomen. “I think you healed me.” He says it so simply, but my mind takes his words and scatters them like ashes. I feel like I’m waking from a coma and I have amnesia and everyone speaks Chinese. I can’t speak. If I had the strength to, I wouldn’t have the words. I feel the panic flood into me and fear spiked adrenaline courses through me, I shove him. Hard. Eyes wide with shock, he stumbles back a few steps. A few steps is all I need. Fight or flight instinct taking root, I fight to flee. The space between us gives me enough room to slide out from between him and the car. He shouts my name. It’s too late. I’m running a fast as my lithe legs will carry me. My Converse pound the sidewalk and I hear the roar of his engine. It’s still too late. I grew up here and I’m ten blocks from home. No newbie could track me in my own neighborhood. In my town. Not with my determination to put as much distance as I can between me and the boy who scares the shit out of me. Not when I’ve scared the shit out of myself. I run. I run and I don’t stop.

I want to savor you like a five-course dinner in a world-class restaurant and take all night.

Witch. The word drifted across his mind. We call such women so, because we have no other name.

Little by little I began to listen better: to the sap moving in the plants, to the blood in my veins. I learned to understand my own intention, to prune and to add, to feel where the power gathered and speak the right words to draw it to its height. That was the moment I lived for, when it all came clear at last and the spell could sing with its pure note, for me and me alone.

Live your life. The reset button has been pushed.

Lord help her, but she was instantly drawn to his scent - a mixture of smoke and salt and mystery - as well as his strength. The pulse of his heart, the hum of blood through his veins, the aura of power and danger surrounding him.

Los secretos, como los muertos, no siempre permanecen enterrados.

Love can give you such happiness, then can break the very heart it filled, leaving a hole that can never be fixed or protected by any armour.

Love isn’t easy, but it shouldn’t be this complicated. I hate the fact that I’m falling in love with him. I hate the fact that once this is over with, I will be just a memory to him, and he will live for thousands of years.” Sarah “Sarah deserves better; a human, not a ghoul who has all these problems. It’s pathetic to depend on magic to get rid of your demons.” Eric “Every time I am around Eric, I feel more acutely attracted to him. I don’t know if that’s part of his powers, but I don’t want him having that effect on me.” Sarah “Death affects us in so many ways. When you want to move on from the person you mourn, it feels like you are trying to forget about them.” Sarah “I miss Sarah’s laugh, the scent of her, the dimples in her cheeks, her drilling me with questions about everything, and I even miss her getting mad at me for trying to get her to try new stuff. I remember the first night we spent together when I made her jump off the cliff with me. I knew she was mine; I knew I wanted to bond with her. I just regret the fact I didn’t do it sooner.” Eric