Quotes About Spell

No matter what else we do with our lives, Maggie, music will soothe and calm us. Music will last, and outlast, and cast its spell and enter our souls and connect us across time and distance. We must believe this, both of us, all of us.

A revival does two things. First, it returns the Church from her backsliding and second, it causes the conversion of men and women and it always includes the conviction of sin on the part of the Church. What a spell the devil seems to cast over the Church today!

The nature of erotic things is secrecy, otherwise they lose their spell.

And when the war broke out, its real horrors, its real dangers, its menace of real death were a blessing compared with the inhuman reign of the lie, and they brought relief because they broke the spell of the dead letter.

Michael was still talking with Cassandra. Man, she was something else. Talk about sizzle. A guy could get sunburn just standing near her. Make that sunstroke. And

My mother brought me magicians and witches, because I was very ugly, really revolting. So she thought somebody had put a spell on me - this is the truth - so she made me drink some horrible terrifying potions, for year.

And truly the very fact of existing is by some natural spell so pleasant, that even the wretched are, for no other reason, unwilling to perish; and, when they feel that they are wretched, wish not that they themselves be annihilated, but that their misery be so.

Once outside, the stranger continued his warning. "Go back to the old ways! Hibernate! Only those who hibernate shall be saved! So says I.M. Weird!" Officer Marguerite closed the door. But out of sight isn't always out of mind. The raggedy stranger's warning cast a spell of gloom over the Town Hall audience.

And now I understand that truth casts a spell of its own, one I'm not sure of how to hold on to, though I'm desperate to try.

Truth casts a spell of its own.

Most of us are safe. If you're not a delirious dream the gods are having, if your beauty doesn't trouble the constellations, nobody's going to cast a spell on you.

I sought my wings," she said. "Your wings—you mean the Book might give you a spell so that you could grow wings!" Elric smiled ironically. "And that is why you seek the vessel of the world's mightiest wisdom!" "If you were thought deformed in your own land—it would seem important enough to you," she shouted defiantly.

Lying under this spell you cast on me Each moment The more I love you.

Repetition is the death of magic.

Uncle Auberon (who was quite an old gentleman) had stopt listening to them both a while ago and had wandered off to resume his search for a book. It contained a spell for turning Members of Parliament into useful members of society and now, just when Uncle Auberon thought he had a use for it, he could not find it (though he had had it in his hand not a hundred years before). So Mr Goodfellow said nothing but quietly turned himself back into William Shakespeare.

It contained a spell for turning Members of Parliament into useful members of society and now, just when Uncle Auberon thought he had a use for it, he could not find it

The brown fields were partly flooded; they were strung with chains of chill, grey pools. The pattern of the pools had meaning. The pools had been written on to the fields by the rain. The pools were a magic worked by the rain, just as the tumbling of the black birds against the grey was a spell that the sky was working and the motion of grey-brown grasses was a spell that the wind made. Everything had meaning.

The human mind is so limited it can only build an arbitrary heaven — and usually the physical comforts they endow it with are naively the kind that can be perceived as we humans perceive — nothing more. No: perhaps I will awake to find myself burning in hell. I think not. I think I will be snuffed out. Black is sleep; black is a fainting spell; and black is death, with no light, no waking.

Shaina, said the dawn under the door, wake up! Here comes Young Ash with beer in his belly as high as his eyes and here comes the day walking over the mountain, the day when the witch buys your maiden's blood with her spell.

If she sat on the mountain, the witch's spell-for what else was it?-would invade her again, and she would see his eyes in the sky and in the green stones, and hear his voice, speaking, laughing, but not to her or with her.

that word. Charming. Women should steer clear of men who charm them. If you're charmed, then you're under some kind of spell, and women need to stay sharp. Real life isn't a dream.

There's nothing that people rebel more against, I told Jacques, than being forced to acknowledge the secret and immediate power their fellow human beings have over them. There's maybe nothing more common, routine. A savage power, as indifferent as a thunderbolt, where intellect, merit, beauty, language are nothing but animal electricity, a polarity that suddenly develops. Falling under the spell. Forever. We never talk about it—it's taboo.

Words made physical were like words made magical. - Earthling (Red Genesis #2)

choose to believe in your own myth your own glamour your own spell a young woman who does this (even if she is just pretending) has everything....