Witches Quotes - Page 6

Keep the Magic Alive!

Witches, he thought. Always rhyming.

Please, let me take you home. You’re drunk.”“I am not.” I shoved him, spilling some kind of delicious poison on him. “Go home and have a wild time with Ms. Scarlet. In the bedroom. With the—”“Okay, you’re starting to talk board game. Let’s go home, babe. I’ll get you into bed.

It’s one thing if a person learns you’re a witch. It’s quite another if he learns you’re a murderer. I almost forget I’m a witch now that I know I’m a murderer—murderess, actually. Murderess sounds so much worse.

Are ya trying' to kill me, lass?"t"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.

How about you ask me something like, "What do you want more than anything?" and I reply with, "A hellhound in my bed"?

There. We can be friends now.""Someone like you could never be my friend.""Why ever not?""Because I'm a nice person, and you're a sick, twisted bitch.

We need to get to the other side of the lake if you want to help the fairies,” said Mikolay.We could use my crystal ball for transportation,” suggested Julia pulling out a small crystal ball out of her pocket.

Such kings can destroy a world, just as easily as they can build one.

She had understood before she had ever dreamed of a city such as this, where every texture, every color, leapt out at you, where every fragrance was a drug, and the air itself was something alive and breathing.

I guess part of me hoped that you'd come to me because you trusted me to help. And because maybe you missed me, just a little."Beka took a deep breath. "Just a little? Hell, Marcus, it felt like I was missing half my soul."...His hazel eyes stared into hers, as if he could read her mind, or maybe her heart, which stuttered and skipped as if it only half remembered how to beat.Then he said in a low, fervent voice, "I think I found it for you." He pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in strength and warmth and longing, tugging her in close until his lips met hers.

Donata Santori looked down at the dead body lying at her feet and thought, ‘Damn, that can’t be a good sign.

The boy stuck his hand out politely and shook hers, then extended it to Fergus, his eyes bright as stars in the night sky. "That's cool," he said, looking down at Fergus's hand and turning it sideways so he could get a better look. "You have little webs between your fingers. Does that hep you swim?"Marcus cleared his throat, looking embarrassed. "Tito, dude, it's not polite to comment on people's, um, oddities." He shrugged an apology at Fergus, who just laughed."I do not mind," Fergus said, grinning at the dark-skinned boy. He leaned down and whispered. "Can you keep a secret? I am actually a Merman from an undersea kingdom; that is why I have webs between my fingers." He held up one bare foot and said in a more normal tone, "Toes, too, see?"Tito's face was a study in conflicting awe and disbelief. "I never heard of a Merman," he said, dubiously. "I thought there were only Mermaids. And they're made up."Fergus snorted. "If you do not have any Mermen, how would get more Mermaids, eh?

Alainn, it is no herb that has made me so entirely insatiable, 'tis just being with you.

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.

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'.

Down vith children! Do them in!Boil their bones and fry their skin!Bish them, sqvish them, bash them, mash them!Brrreak them, shake them, slash them, smash them!Offer chocs vith magic powder!Say “Eat up!” then say it louder.Crrram them full of sticky eats,Send them home still guzzling sveets.And in the morning little foolsGo marching off to separate schools.A girl feels sick and goes all pale.She yells, “Hey look! I've grrrown a tail!”A boy who's standing next to herScreams, “Help! I think I'm grrrowing fur!” Another shouts, “Vee look like frrreaks!There's viskers growing on our cheeks!”A boy who vos extremely tallCries out, “Vot's wrong? I'm grrrowing small!”Four tiny legs begin to sprrroutFrom everybody rrround about.And all at vunce, all in a trrrice,There are no children! Only MICE!

When, however, one reads of a witch being ducked, of a woman possessed by devils, of a wise woman selling herbs, or even of a very remarkable man who had a mother, then I think we are on the track of a lost novelist, a suppressed poet, of some mute and inglorious Jane Austen, some Emily Bronte who dashed her brains out on the moor or mopped and mowed about the highways crazed with the torture that her gift had put her to. Indeed, I would venture to guess that Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman.

She blinked against the sting of tears. Fury curled in her stomach. She narrowed her eyes, and slapped him. She gritted out "May you never find satisfaction with another woman.

Witches never existed, except in people’s minds. All there was in the olden days was women and some men who believed in herbal cures and in folklore and in the wish to fly. Witches? We’re all witches in one way or another. Witches was the invention of mankind, son. We’re all witches beneath the skin.

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.

Above all remember this: that magic belongs as much to the heart as to the head and everything which is done, should be done from love or joy or righteous anger.

I think that all women are witches, in the sense that a witch is a magical being. And a wizard, which is a male version of a witch, is kind of revered, and people respect wizards. But a witch, my god, we have to burn them. It’s the male chauvinistic society that we’re living in for the longest time, 3,000 years or whatever. And so I just wanted to point out the fact that men and women are magical beings. We are very blessed that way, so I’m just bringing that out. Don’t be scared of witches, because we are good witches, and you should appreciate our magical power.

She waited for him to go on, but he simply gaped at her, lost for words.t"Doc Grey, do you want me?" she asked before she could stop herself.t"Vera, I..." He stopped abruptly. "I..."...t"I asked you a question." The words came out breathier than she'd intended. She stepped closer, until their bodies were less than an inch apart, and stared up into his gorgeous, honey-brown eyes. He met her gaze, and she saw a spark behind his irises that could only be described with one word: desire.

Are you ready to go home, Catherine?” he asked. “It’s warm inside the house. I kept a fire going for you.”I continued looking at him, unsure how to respond. “Thanks,” I managed to say and then glanced in the direction of his house—our house. “Well, you are my wife. And I know you don’t like the cold.”I’m his wife, I thought to myself. He had said the words as if that simple fact made it necessary to be both thoughtful and kind. As if having gained a wife or husband meant having also gained her or his concerns, and hence the need to consider the person’s needs, wants, and preferences as strongly as one’s own. It struck me as a perfect description of what marriage ought to be. An agreeable notion that had not entered into my petty way of viewing matrimony. I would have assumed it to be above Thaddeus’ egotistical mindset as well.“Catherine?” he said again, watching me regard him with a quizzical expression. “Are you ready to go home?”I nodded, which made him smile.

If you're still hungry, I could probably find some nice roots by the riverbank we passed," Mick teased. "Mind you, some of them insist on yodeling while you eat them, but you get used to that after a while.

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.

Maybe we can help. Where are you from? I've never seen you around here before. And, how did you get that cut? Where are you staying?” He shook his head and giggled. “Are you the police? You ask a lot of questions Phoenix.” “No. I just ... never mind.” I wanted to know more about him. The way those sparkly green eyes gazed at me. The way his dimples sunk deep into his cheeks, as he smiled and said my name with his deep voice.

Her heart and soul had already spoken. They wouldn’t let Lucas go.

Quincy laughed. "If I were Elizabeth I shouldn't thank either of you for that comforting diagnosis. Would it do any good to open Aunt Sarai's grave and drive a stake through her? If you believe in as much sorcery as that, you must regret the days of witch-burners, Carew."Carew said quietly, "No. Witch-burners were barbarous blunderers. If I wanted to suppress a dangerous letter, could I do it by burning the envelope and leaving the letter loose? The witch would come back unchanged; I should merely have postponed the danger until another time and place. And have further handicapped myself to meet it, by depriving the witch, by violent death, of the years allotted her, or him, for evolution."Joseph said with dry humor, "She might not have used them for that, Carew. At least not for your idea of it."Carew shrugged. "That would be her responsibility, not mine. And, in any case, she would be that many years nearer the time of her inevitable change."This time Joseph did not answer, only smiled.

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

Advice for the wise: You"d better bite your tongueRather than cast a spell wrong.

The blade was sharp enough that she didn't feel the initial prick, but it didn't matter. The earth beside her opened up and the knife slid from her attacker's suddenly nerveless hand, thudding to the ground about the same time she did. His grip on her hand disappeared the instant that something else emerged in a blast of stone and magic.tWynn's cavalry had arrived, in the form of one very large and very angry Guardian, a Guardian that was supposed to be nothing but the teeny-tiny pieces still scattered around her.tHuh. How about that?

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.

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 was going to fight vampires, and my name wasn't Buffy--I was so screwed.

The love has got to be bigger than everything else. The isolation, the separation, the danger. When the love is bigger than all of that – you just do it. You pay the price in uncertainty and sometimes bereavement, because every moment you’re together is worth the cost.

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.

I didn't give you a parting kiss." I tried to ignore the audience of witches and concentrate on the kiss. Dominic jumped right in and helped me with a sexy lingering sizzling hot kiss. By the time we broke free, I was sure my cheeks were rose red. For a minute I felt like I might swoon and Dominic held my arm to keep me upright and pressed his lips against my cheek and whispered, "You sure know how to send a guy to the moon, Marissa.

Remember the plan?” Hunter asked as they drew closer to their target.Kristen looked at him sceptically. "'Keep quiet and don’t get seen’ is not a very professional plan. Did you have anything else to add?

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.

Let me out, witch," growled Alice. She began to hum off key.Griselda stepped away from the door."I can help the little wee babes," Alice sung sweetly. "Through the woods and into the dark. Where he whispers the words to make his mark. Little boy of green..." Alice chuckled. "...has gone to the wizard who is evil and mean.

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.

She was tasked with guarding the doorway to the Otherworld, keeping the balance of nature (as much as anyone could in these modern times), and occasionally, helping a worthy seeker.

He spoke!" Ivan said, eyes wide. "The dog talked! Oh my god."t"An ancient witch you can believe in, but not a talking dragon that looks like a dog?" Chudo-Yudo said, sounding slightly piqued. "Hmph. Young people today have such limited imaginations.

Pray to whatever you believe in that they don't send the snakes.

I knew that coming from a family with an unhealthy social origins, things would be harder for me. Nonetheless, in my heart, hope never died. However, over time, I had learned that trying never died either. Trying was one thing I always had to do more than others, because, in the self-proclaimed society of equals, we were made to be less equal than many of the families around us.

His hand came out and captured her by the chin. She froze, finding it hard to breathe as he gently raised her face to meet his gaze.

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

My first thought was that a tornado had somehow picked me up and carried me off, like in the Wizard of Oz. No old witches pedaled by, and I didn't see any flying farm animals or chicken coops, and after a few agonizing minutes, I fell deep into unconsciousness again.

The book did not say anything about a statue, valuable or otherwise, and so I stopped reading about the Bombinating Beast and got interested in the chapter about the Stain'd witches, who had ink instead of blood in their veins. I wondered what they kept in their pens.

I let my sword slip to the ground, and for the second time I stood unarmed in the presence of werewolves.Kresh put his lips to my forehead, and my skin burned beneath his kiss. When his hands repositioned to take me by the waist, my breathing—already shallow—ceased entirely. Then his lips fell on mine and I was suddenly everything he claimed me to be—his mate, his wife, his world.The taste of him seemed mysteriously new and old at the same time. Every bit of tension eased as if internally I had come home again, and yet a sense of foreignness made our connection a sweet venture. My breast was afire as he continued to grasp my hips, keeping me close. I burned for him as if vampire venom were coursing through every inch of me. The man was a constellation of suns in my desire, unlike Thaddeus who hardly equaled a speck of stardust. The thought of that coward reminded me of grim news. It took every bit of willpower I possessed to tear my lips away from what they craved, and yet I remained a submissive puddle in this werewolf’s arms.

Tis the unexpected that makes life interesting.

I carry fairy dust, pack dry herb and drive a broom. If you don't get that you won't get me, so long, it's my journey.

I do not doubt your intellectual or spiritual equality with me, mate. When I saw you belong to me, it is only because I belong so utterly to you, as well.

Holly girl, you are all too human, I can assure you. Prickly and awkward and human, because that's what witches are - human, that is, not necessarily the prickly and annoying bit. That's just you.

She couldn't take her eyes off him.He had sandy-blond hair and piercingly green eyes. Today he wore a deep-red T-shirt with the word BOUNCER printed across the back. The material pulled tightly over his muscular chest. He was a specimen.But the most striking feature about him was his smile.The man was bewitching, and Sofia knew a thing or two about bewitching.

It comes from history. It comes from the record of the Inquisition, persecuting heretics and torturing Jews and all that sort of stuff; and it comes from the other side, too, from the Protestants burning the Catholics. It comes from the insensate pursuit of innocent and crazy old women, and from the Puritans in America burning and hanging the witches — and it comes not only from the Christian church but also from the Taliban. Every single religion that has a monotheistic god ends up by persecuting other people and killing them because they don't accept him. Wherever you look in history, you find that. It’s still going on.

The stranded Daoine Sidhe knights of the Dark Court gathered at the ring of ancient standing stones under the pale light of the harvest moon.tWhenever the Daoine Sidhe gathered, they raised the natural energies of the world around them.

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