Best 650 quotes in «witches quotes» category

Are ya trying' to kill me, lass?" "Kill you? No." Maggie leaned closer, her hands drifting up and cradling his face as she rolled her hips again in one wicked pass. "Torture you? Maybe.

Are ya tryin' to kill me, Maggie?" Declan bit the words out and his fingers dug deeper into her hips. "Are ya wantin' to see a grown man beg?

Are you sure about this?" Rowan asked. "No," Lily shouted over the whipping wind. Her voice came out choked as it tried to get around her stomach, which was now lodged in her throat. "But it's the only way." Rowan looked over the side, his face serene as he timed it. Lily saw his willstone pulse as every sense in him sharpened, and he pulled her tightly against his body and launched them off the drake's neck into thin air. Lily shrieked uncontrollably, clutching at Rowan desperately as they fell.

Are you going to sit or are you afraid I’ll suck your blood?” “No, I am not afraid.” “Then come sit next to me.” ~ Trent and Kiara: Scarred

A rising tide of desire threatened to swamp her like a tidal wave, washing away fear and doubt and leaving behind it the knowledge that in her topsy turvy life, she was certain of only one thing: she wanted this man, right now, and she'd deal with the consequences later.... "I want to make love to you," he said, his voice low and thrumming through her veins as if it were a music only she could hear.

Arkadia wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head upon the muscular cliff face he called his chest.

A Seer dreams of all kinds of endings, but never a happy one for herself.

As my hair fell free, Cortez entwined his fingers in it and kissed me even harder. Then he slipped one hand from my hair and snapped his fingers over our heads. The lights went out.

A sudden intake of breath escaped her as soon as his lips touched the backs of her fingers. His rose birthmark tingled as if awakened.

At last the magic caught, and she managed to vault clumsily onto it before it trundled into the night sky as gracefully as a duck with one wing missing.

A tiny cage of butterflies suddenly buzzed around the inside of her gut. Her superhot professor wanted to take a nighttime stroll with her and he was offering her his jacket. Before she could decide whether she wanted to be the type of girl who did that sort of thing with her professor, which was clearly inappropriate, she grasped the leather jacket in her hands and slipped it on. Aw, shucks, who was she kidding? She totally was that kind of girl.

At Jenna's questioning glance, he explained, "As the White Rider, I used to wear all white. Few people here have ever seen me dressed in any other way. I wouldn't wonder that most of them could be standing right in front of me, wearing these clothes, and not even look twice." Jenna grinned at him. "Not if they're female, they won't. I doubt there's a woman alive who would not look twice at you, babe." He snorted, absurdly pleased by the flattery, although he tried not to show it. "We'll just have to try and stay away from women, then, won't we?

At its best, a coven is a spiritual community or a mutual aid society of witches who hang out.

At the sight of Day, her whole face lit up. "Mikhail! You came! Barbara said you would, but that we might have to wait for hell to freeze over first. Did it?

A witch ought never to be frightened in the darkest forest, Granny Weatherwax had once told her, because she should be sure in her soul that the most terrifying thing in the forest was her.

A witch is always a woman. I do not wish to speak badly about women. Most women are lovely. But the fact remains that all witches are women. There is no such thing as a male witch." (My own thoughts: I love women and I love witches)

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.

Being noticed is what being a witch is all about - Margrat Garlick

A year ago on my twenty-third birthday, I rebuffed the advances of a beautiful young woman whom I did not love. Alas, she turned out to be a sorceress. She repaid me by casting a spell that forces every female I touch to fall into a frenzy of lust." His mouth twisted bitterly. "Thus she robbed me of one of mankind's greatest gifts - the ability to seek and find true love.

Bella laughed, her head thrown back to expose the smooth line of her throat, and Sam suddenly lost his train of thought. While they'd been eating, the sun had set, and the sight of Bella standing in the moonlight laughing took his breath away. He didn't think he'd ever seen anything so beautiful in his life. And that was more terrifying than any fire.

Bez blew out a breath and leaned heavily against the bar. "Honestly, D, you're better off busting your subversive cherry with something else. A nice werewolf killing. A vampire blood drive.

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

But a girl starting out in life might well say to herself: 'Is this it? You worked hard and denied yourself things and what you got at the end was hard work and self-denial?

But I find it necessary to repeat in this particular place that the division into classes, which is so salient a part of modern demonology, had, and has, little significance for primitive man or for the peasant in a comparatively low state of mental development. To such people, spirits of all kinds - fairies, the ghosts of the dead, and even witches and water-kelpies - are all creatures of the supernatural class between which he scarcely differentiates.

But in that moment, I didn’t want to be trusted. I wanted something far more primal. I stretched up on my tiptoes and leaned in. I closed my eyes as his scent overcame me. When his lips touched mine it felt as if he’d caressed them with a feather. It was all I could do not to wrap myself around him and do things I’d never really thought about doing before.

But our forest is sacred & magical with many unusual creatures & plants.We don’t want people to destroy everything!

But then, not long after, in another article, Loftus writes, "We live in a strange and precarious time that resembles at its heart the hysteria and superstitious fervor of the witch trials." She took rifle lessons and to this day keeps the firing instruction sheets and targets posted above her desk. In 1996, when Psychology Today interviewed her, she burst into tears twice within the first twenty minutes, labile, lubricated, theatrical, still whip smart, talking about the blurry boundaries between fact and fiction while she herself lived in another blurry boundary, between conviction and compulsion, passion and hyperbole. "The witch hunts," she said, but the analogy is wrong, and provides us with perhaps a more accurate window into Loftus's stretched psyche than into our own times, for the witch hunts were predicated on utter nonsense, and the abuse scandals were predicated on something all too real, which Loftus seemed to forget: Women are abused. Memories do matter. Talking to her, feeling her high-flying energy the zeal that burns up the center of her life, you have to wonder, why. You are forced to ask the very kind of question Loftus most abhors: did something bad happen to her? For she herself seems driven by dissociated demons, and so I ask. What happened to you? Turns out, a lot. (refers to Dr. Elizabeth F. Loftus)

Barbara felt lightheaded, almost dizzy with what she was about to say. But she said it anyway. "As you wish, Your Majesty. In that case, I am afraid I must resign my position as Baba Yaga. If I am forced to choose between the work I was destined to do and the man I was destined to love, I choose the man.

Calling on his inherent magic, he pictured a shape less conspicuous in the mortal realm. An instant later he stood before his companion in his new body and found himself surprisingly comfortable in the denim and cotton garments that came with it. Perhaps this confining human shape had its advantages. He nodded in satisfaction and looked to the woman, "Will this do?" *** Will this do me? Now that is the question. Wynn took in the Guardian's human form and hoped her eyes were not literally bulging out of her head, because they sure as heck felt like they were. It felt as if the usually obedient organs couldn't take in enough of the new view in their natural state and wanted to reach out and touch the gorgeous specimen of man that now stood before her. Because... wow.

By the Middles Ages it was a sin to have sex with a child. If an adult were guilty of such a sin, one remedy was to declare the child a witch. The child thus became an offender who "beguiled" the adult with the power of the Evil One. Understanding this process puts a new light on the burning of witches. A Catholic bishop in Wurttemberg in the seventeenth century writes, for example, of his sadness at having presided over the burning of three hundred young girls that year and of his wonder if the church were making a mistake.

Cat's brows shot up as Lucas slid the plate across the counter. "I'm impressed. I wouldn't have assumed you ate real food much less cooked it," she teased. "I'm curious, what did you think I ate?" he asked as he grabbed a fork and a knife for her. She smiled. "I don't know, bats... small critters you happen upon in the underworld." Lucas handed her a napkin. "Nah, bats don't really have that much meat on them," he retorted with a grin of his own.

A veces solo el dolor puede curar

Can I ask you something?" He placed the chain around her neck. She nodded. "Have you ever wanted something really badly that you know you shouldn't have, yet you can't stop yourself from wanting it?

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.

Chewie gave a bone-scented sigh and rubbed his jowl affectionately against her leg. "I can't tell you what to do, Beka. I can just tell you that I would be very sorry if you weren't my Baba. I've kind of gotten used to having you around." Beka blinked back unexpected emotion. "Thanks, Chewie. That's really sweet." He was quiet for a moment, and then said. "You know what's really sweet? S'mores, that's what." He gazed up at her with an innocent expression. "Just sayin'.

Claiming to be offended is a great way to elevate yourself at the expense of others: “Look at me! I'm a much better person than you! And I judge you! I condemn you! Shame! Shame! SHAME!” These social media shamings bear an uncanny resemblance to medieval witch hunts.

Chumvi si dawa ya kuzuia wachawi au dawa ya kuzuia nguvu kutoka ulimwenguni. Chumvi inazuia wachawi, lakini vilevile inazuia bahati. Dawa halisi ya kuzuia wachawi ni Mwenyezi Mungu.

Cookies, a dragon dog, and a sword: what every well-equipped little girl takes on a journey.

Come on, this is a real adventure I have here, screamed Mikolay again, this time more impatiently.I think someone is singing inside the wardrobe. Can you hear that?

Couldn't I just take up juggling fire over a pit of alligators?" Liam muttered. "I think it might be easier.

Curiouser and curiouser," he says. I smile at the reference. Carroll was totally a witch. The secrets of our world are written into that book.

Changing the currents of Fate, even by accident, comes at a heavy price.

Dear, he do have a problem.

Death. Fire. Snow. Failure.

Death is but a doorway to another path.

Death sat on a mountaintop. It wasn’t particularly high, or bare, or sinister. No witches held naked sabbats on it; Discworld witches, on the whole, didn’t hold with taking off anymore clothes than was absolutely necessary for the business in hand. No specters haunted it. No naked little men sat on the summit dispensing wisdom, because the first thing the truly wise man works out is that sitting around on mountaintops gives you not only hemorrhoids but frostbitten hemorrhoids. Occasionally people would climb the mountain and add a stone or two to the cairn at the top, if only to prove that there is nothing really damn stupid that humans won’t do.

Destiny is as it is. Nothing can change it. Accept it before it ruins you.

Damn them all, my love. Your future is your own. Destiny is for the weak. The strong make their own futures, and you were born with a sword for a spine.

Damn, I would give anything to see that man naked," Charlotte whispered. "How could you only say he was 'all right'?

Did he actually believe in this curse? A curse! He snorted. Deirdre stirred. Impossible. Curses were for witches, spell casters and the weak-minded.