Quotes About Spell

That's what's so stupid about the whole magic thing, you know. You spend twenty years learning the spell that makes nude virgins appear in your bedroom, and then you're so poisoned by quicksilver fumes and half-blind from reading old grimoires that you can't remember what happens next.

That's what I don't like about magic. It does everything by magic.

We got the spell exactly right. Except for the ingredients. And most of the poetry. And it probably wasn't the right time. And Gytha took most of it home for the cat, which couldn't of been proper.

A witch relied too much on words ever to go back on them.

It was like ... like wizardry, but without the wizards and the mess.

But if you must know, your moon here is rather more powerful than the ones around my own world." "The moon?" said Twoflower. "I don't under-" "If I've got to spell it out," said the troll, testily, "I'm suffering from chronic tides.

It's witchcraft with all the crusts cut off, and real witchcraft is ALL crusts.

I thought I was doing a fair job of passing myself off as a typical Celt," he added, "when hey, presto! No cloak! And a moment after that, no trousers! And no underwear! They used some spell to strip me butt naked, in the middle of the damn road, looking for weapons I didn't even have because of your constant nagging about the timeline. They even took my last shoe!

A witch cannot die until her familiars or imps are dead. If a witch desires to put an end to her suffering she must call each familiar by name and order it to die. Then, when the last is dead, she too will die. Greetwell Edward

If aught must be lost, 'twill be my honor for yours. If one must be forsaken, 'twill be my soul for yours. Should death come anon, 'twill be my life for yours." He drew a deep breath and finished it, completing the spell that would haunt him for life. "I am Given.

If you can explain magic, then it's not magic anymore.

Then he says her name. Her real name. The soft music of it hangs suspended in the air between them. Threat or entreaty, she doesn't know, but she feels her resolve weaken. He says it again, this time, it sounds bitter, false in his mouth. A betrayal. The spell is broken. The woman known as Sophie lifts her arm. And shoots.

Abracadabra! Fiddle-fee-fee! Open this book and read it to me!

She knows how to keep him interested in a thousand ways. And her peculiarity, her singularity may not always be easy for him to bear. But surely she has never bored him. Elle sait se faire désirer, but without pretenses. It is her way, and he is under her spell like a lover, and happy when he can touch her lightly to remind her of something!

I have to say, your technique is really different. Curran hammered at the spell until it broke. You just talk. Help me out here, what's the strategy? Are you hoping the ward will get tired and kill itself so it won't have to listen to you anymore?

When I made my First-Class debut, my first spell was of 10 overs. So I was always used to bowling lot of overs in Ranji Trophy, which always helps.

...if the spell was off, I'd have my heart eaten before I could turn around." "Don't you want your heart eaten?" asked the fire. [...] "Naturally I don't," Sophie answered.

Khaster is dead," Taropat said. "He was killed by the man you would have me serve. You are all under his spell. I pity you.

The Sink looked utterly enchanted, as if everyone was under the spell of a magical sleep.

He had mocked her, shown her his power, and she, believing herself immune, had fallen beneath his spell.

The house wove a spell over her, as if melancholy dreams drifted down from the cobwebbed corners.

Gifted Deirdre cast the spell that enabled our souls to eventually be reunited. She couldn't bear for us to be apart, and neither could I.

In those stories, one is often asked to do something unimaginably terrible to the creature. Cut off it's head, say. A test. Not a test of love. A test of trust. Trust lifts the spell.

I deal in magic and mayhem.