Quotes About Enchantment

Torque was the greatest thing in the world, as far as Lina was concerned.

Little known fact: sometimes wizards do things just because it amuses them.

I think that the ideal space must contain elements of magic, serenity, sorcery and mystery.

A música tinha um enredo e desfiava esse enredo como uma pessoa amiga que entrava para uma visita, uma pessoa muito amiga mas muito estranha, que ora chorava, ora ria, repetindo de vez em quando o começo da historinha: "Sabe, Virgínia, eu vou contar, era uma vez...

Life is magical. There is something wonderful in being alive, in having within one's self all sorts of possibilities.

In the Manglemunching Forest there's a Nickle Nackle tree, Growing Nickle Nackle berries that are red as red can be.

I do not believe in witches, but if I did, I'd swear you are one.

Fairies are invisible and inaudible like angels. But their magic sparkles in nature.

Lips with such sweetness in their honeyed deeps As fills the rose in which a fairy sleeps.

He who wonders discovers that this in itself is wonder.

One man's ugliness can blind another to the world's magic.

Isabeau had a garden insider of her.

How can we ever tell what the world really looks like? On a misty day, even the hills of Elfland are gray and dismal. Look through a gemstone, and the dullest street sparkles. I have had both my eyes put out by goblins, and so, for me, the world is profoundly dark. --- Lemuel of Chartibrande, On the Elfin Sciences & Magical Arts

His fingers touched the strings and all my thoughts were displaced. The sound was pure and sweet as water, bright as lemons. It was like no music I had ever heard before. It had warmth as a fire does, a texture and weight like polished ivory. It buoyed and soothed at once.

Sorcery cannot be taught. You find it yourself, or you do not.

What makes a witch, then? If it is not divinity?

Circe," Apollo said, and it was the greatest chime of all. Every melody in the world belonged to him.

Let me say what sorcery is not: it is not divine power, which comes with a thought and a blink. It must be made and worked, planned and searched out, dug up, dried, chopped and ground, cooked, spoken over, and sung.

the floor was always clean, the tables gleaming. The ashes vanished from the fireplace, the dishes washed themselves, and the firewood regrew overnight. In the pantry there were jars of oil and wine, bowls of cheese and barley-grain, always fresh and full.

Witchcraft transforms the world. He wanted only to join it.

The spells hung on us yet I felt weightless.

The second spell I cast beneath it. It was an enchantment woven into the island itself, every bird and beast and grain of sand, every leaf and rock and drop of water. I marked them, and all the generations in their bellies, with Telegonus' name. If ever she did break through that smoke, the island would rise up in his defence, the beasts and birds, the branches and rocks, the roots in the earth.

He was no storyteller, as he had said, but that made it more enjoyable somehow, watching his serious face as he described flying horses and golden apples.

He was like a flame himself. He glittered, drew eyes. There was a glamour to him, even on waking, with his hair tousled and his face still muddled with sleep.