Magic Quotes - Page 29

People and events of wonder and magic are the lifeblood of the world.

What do you do,' said Jean, 'with, ah, "ungifted" children when you have them?''Cherish them and raise them, you imbecile. Most of them end up working for us, in Karthain and elsewhere. What did you think we'd do, burn them on a pyre?''Forget I asked

You are in training, and therefore your personal taste and opinions are not to be trusted until they are fully and reliably shaped - by me.

The material world is all feminine. The feminine engergy makes the non-manifest, manifest. So even men (are of the feminine energy). We have to relinquish our ideas of gender in the conventional sense. This has nothing to do with gender, it has to do with energy. So feminine energy is what creates and allows anything which is non-manifest, like an idea, to come into form, into being, to be born. All that we experience in the world around us, absolutely everything (is feminine energy). The only way that anything exists is through the feminine force.

But witchy magic doesn’t listen to please and pretty please, and anyway, I didn’t really care. I only pretended to care because not caring makes me a monster.

That guy with the silver hair, he’s your dad, right?” Amber questioned, surveying the scene. “Yes,” I said, reluctant to say anything but, considering what was happening, figured was the least of my worries. “Ooo la la. He’s, like, totally diesel. Look at those arms.” She went on, admiring my dad to a sickening degree. “All right, jailbait, back off. It’s practically incest.”She sucked air through her teeth. “I know,” she said regretfully. “But a girl can dream. And I have a feeling he’s going to be starring in a lot of them.

Independence' is a magic word, because nowhere in the Cosmos does it actually exist.

And try as we might, small magic never seems to win out over giant meat.

See, those who wield the primordial forces of creation have a long-running grudge with physics.

FEBRIZIUM();” said Buggeroff, and the foul smell immediately disappeared as if by, well − Magic.

A dark night, lightened up by thousands of glowing fireflies... It's magical...

Noontime was absolutely the perfect time for a duel in the dragon’s opinion as this was also lunchtime, his favorite part of the day. As the saying went, he could kill two birds with one stone.

She would walk through the kitchen at any hour, whenever she was hungry, and put her fork in the pots and eat a little of everything without placing anything on a plate, standing in front of the stove, talking to the serving women, who were the only ones with whom she felt comfortable, the ones she got along with best.

Beck stabbed a hand through his hair and continued.

There was a feeling on the air like the eve of the end of the world...

Fire. I see it everywhere.

The evolutionists, piercing beneath the show of momentary stability, discovered, hidden in rudimentary organs, the discarded rubbish of the past. They detected the reptile under the lifted feathers of the bird, the lost terrestrial limbs dwindling beneath the blubber of the giant cetaceans. They saw life rushing outward from an unknown center, just as today the astronomer senses the galaxies fleeing into the infinity of darkness. As the spinning galactic clouds hurl stars and worlds across the night, so life, equally impelled by the centrifugal powers lurking in the germ cell, scatters the splintered radiance of consciousness and sends it prowling and contending through the thickets of the world.

Life is a chance at Evolution. Overcome yourself and Become. ☥

After dinner, at five o’clock, the crew distributed folding canvas cots to the passengers, and each person opened his bed wherever he could find room, arranged it with the bedclothes from his petate, and set the mosquito netting over that. Those with hammocks hung them in the salon, and those who had nothing slept on the tablecloths that were not changed more than twice during the trip.

A bad magician never gets the good props.

Mikolay and Julia live in the same neighborhood and go tothe same school every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

Dad?" Jesus asked."Yes, son?" God replied."Why do birds sing?" Jesus asked."Birds sing to welcome in the day and so that people can rejoice in their sweet voices," God said."What about chickens then?" Jesus asked now."Chickens are alarm clocks," God said."Alarm clocks?" Jesus asked bewildered."Yes, alarm clocks. They let everyone know that a new day is coming. Would you want to miss seeing the beauty of a sunrise?" God asked Jesus."No! I love watching a new day dawn," Jesus said."So it is with a lot of animals and people. That's the magic of life," God said."No dad. That's the magic of you," Jesus said as he smiled."Thank you," God said with a happy smile.

Newton was not the first of the age of reason. He was the last of the magicians, the last of the Babylonians and Sumerians, the last great mind that looked out on the visible and intellectual world with the same eyes as those who began to build our intellectual inheritance rather less than 10,000 years ago.

Power came the way a child came -- with agony.

9 likes Like Facebook_icon“Read this to yourself. Read it silently.Don't move your lips. Don't make a sound. Listen to yourself. Listen without hearing anything.What a wonderfully weird thing, huh? NOW MAKE THIS PART LOUD! SCREAM IT IN YOUR MIND! DROWN EVERYTHING OUT.Now, hear a whisper. A tiny whisper. Now, read this next line in your best crotchety- old man voice:"Hello there, sonny. Does your town have a post office?"Awesome! Who was that? Whose voice was that? It sure wasn't yours! How do you do that?How?! It must've been magic.

The deepest of powers are often the most subtle. Something that most fail to realize... ☥

Because when you finally find the one against all odds, you give him your best and let the magic of the world carry the rest.

Only those few who are able to surpass their fear of death completely can fully experience the highest forms of life; not the mundane life of the mortal, but the godly life of the resurrected.

Humans did not want to know about non-humans. Funny thing was most non-humans felt the same way, happy to hide their abilities and talents to avoid witch hunts and wholesale slaughter.

Magic is just energy that wants to be something different

You wish you had not come. If there were not so many around, you would reach out your arms, with the prayer on your lips for it all to come back to you. It seems cruel, cruel, to give us such a vision; to let us dream and drift through heaven for six months, and then to take it out of our lives.

Traveling together into what the poet Adrienne Rich has called ‘the cratered night of female memory,’ they undertook a shared process of self-discovery, working together to probe the possibility of woman’s creative power. Through their exploration of hermetic and magical paths, they developed a common pictorial language, derived from the realms of domestic life, the fairy tale and the dream.

Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack, all dressed in black, black, black. She has a knife, knife, knife, stuck in her back, back, back. She cannot breathe, breathe, breathe. She cannot cry, cry, cry. Thats why she begs, begs, begs. She begs to die, die ,die..

A song she heardOf cold that gathersLike winter's tongueAmong the shadowsIt rose like blacknessIn the skyThat on volcano'sVomit riseA Stone of ruinFrom burn to chillLike black moonriseHer voice fell still...

In the middle of the night, she'd woken up with a memory of her grandmother's voice ringing in her ears. "When it happens," the older woman had said, holding on to Jenna's hand with surprising strength for someone with one foot in the grave, "and it will, don't stay in the cities. She can find you in the city. Too many eyes and whispering tongues that no one can see. Run to the woods, far away from everything and everyone you ever knew. Run, girl, run as far and as fast as you can.

It was as if a door had opened somewhere. Or possibly a series of doors. There was a sensation as of a breeze blowing into the house and bringing with it the half-rememberedscents of childhood. There was a shift in the light which seemed to cause all the shadows in the room to fall differently. There was nothing more definite than that, and yet, as oftenhappens when some magic is occurring, both Drawlight and the lady had the strongest impression that nothing in the visible world could be relied upon any more. It was as if one might put out one's hand to touch any thing in the room and discover it was no longerthere.

It's just like any relationship," Raelin told him with a grin, while Aldri practiced over and over again. "You need to coax her, persuade her, impress her, not knock her over the head with a mallet. Sometimes, for complicated things, you even need to grovel a little—but I'll teach you that later, some of the syllables in Faerilíca can take weeks to learn correctly. For now, keep trying to catch her eye in silence.""But magic is only converted energy and emotion," Aldri reminded him. "I already possess it, I only need to use it.""And just how do you want to take ten minutes' running energy or your liking for the color blue, and throw it out in front of you as an arrow-stopping shield, hm?

Nothing could be easier than disturbing a status quo instituted by others; the real work of the sinistercurrent is to break the rules we rigidly establish for ourselves.”-Zeena Schreck for "Contemporary notions of Kundalini, its background and role within new Western religiosity," University of Stockholm, Malin Fitger 2004

Art is a deception that creates real emotions - a lie that creates a truth. And when you give yourself over to that deception, it becomes magic.

Slicker than snot on a door handle.

Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.""Two possibilities exist: Either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.

And the One will take the Sword of the Western Sun and triumph over the enemy with boldness and insight. The arm of the One is steady and heads will roll. Snow Giants will battle

Every libromancer had a first book. Etched more sharply into my memory than my first kiss, this book had been my magical awakening.

perhaps,thought Felix,that's what magic is--physics with a different twist to it.my world just hasn't discovered the twist.

She leaves my side and heads deeper intothe apartment singing, “—if the spirit tries to hide, its temple far away… acopper for those they ask, a diamond for those who stay.

The core practice of magic is: The execution of a willed intent to create change in the material world, which either defies, hastens or purifies the consequences of natural cause and effect.

Books are where the true magic happens.

Is the prospect of magic any more outrageous than a dragon train?

Ellysetta Baristani." Belliard's voice caused her to stop and turn back around. "Even should you clothe yourself in rags and dirt, you would bring honor to the Fey.

The Victorian era was perhaps the last point in Western history when magic and science were allowed to coexist.

My son, your ineptitude is so vast, your incompetence so profound, that I am certain you are inhabited by greater power than I have ever known. Unfortunately, it seems to be working backward at the moment, and even I can find no way to set it right. It must be that you are meant to find your own way to reach your power in time; but frankly, you should live so long as that will take you. Therefore I grant it that you shall not age from this day forth, but will travel the world round and round, eternally inefficient, until at last you come to yourself and know what you are. Don't thank me. I tremble at your doom.

Maths is at only one remove from magic.

Speaking with spiders and other things you call unusual... there's no special trick to it. When something catches your attention just keep your attention on it, stick with it 'til the end, and somewhere along the line there'll be weirdness.

He felt like home.

Ella, if it's magic, then nothing is supposed to happen.

Don't get me wrong. It's a lovely idea. It's very romantic. 'Just believe' and you can experience magic. It's why grandmothers the world over knit the word Believe into blankets for their grandchildren." His elbows resting on the arms of his chair, Mister Fox waved his hands in a vague, circular gesture. "There's just one little problem. It's completely wrong. It's backward. When you believe in something, you stop questioning it. You stop looking for answers and ignore other possibilities. Only minds that are truly open to possibility can see magic. It's people who aren't sure - of themselves, of the world, of their place in the world - who can see and experience magic.

I stretched out on the carpet, eyes glazed over, my heart whirring with frustration and fear, and as my mother’s curse slowly, firmly, pushed my eyelids closed, my body went still. But on the inside I was screaming.

he waves settled to soft ripples, and he still hadn’t surfaced. “Isaac?” she swept her arms through the dark water, calling him, but encountered nothing but slimy weeds. Another few seconds and she was in panic mode.She ducked her head beneath the surface and swam down as deep as she could, reaching out in front of her blindly. Suddenly, a strong hand clamped around her ankle. She instinctively kicked and fought her way up for air, gasping as she reached the surface, but he didn’t let go, only shifted his grip to her thighs as he pulled her close and guided her legs around his waist.“That was mean,” she gasped, very aware of every inch of him in physical contact with her.His gaze dipped down to the tops of her breasts showing through the thin fabric of her bra, and his arms tightened around her. “I can’t seem to form thoughts at the moment,” he groaned, pressing a kiss to her mouth before scraping down the side of her neck. “But I’m fairly certain you would take the title for meanness if we were keeping score,” he murmured against her skin.She broke out in goose bumps all the way down to her toes, and it had nothing to do with the chill in the water.

What good is magic, if you can't use it to help people?

Props?”  She was almost afraid to ask.“Just the usual.  Stethoscope, tongue depressor... scalpel, bone saw, rib spreaders… just the normal stuff.”“Maybe in future you should ditch the props, be less Nurse Ratched and more soft porn first day on the job candy striper.”Darcy look genuinely puzzled for a brief moment. “Where would the fun be in that for me?