Quotes About Magic

I was running wild through the forest of magic, pushing brambles out of my way, heedless of scratches and dirt, paying no attention where I was going.

He looked at me, baffled and for the first time uncertain, as though he had stumbled into something, unprepared. His long narrow hands were cradled around mine, both of us holding the rose together. Magic was singing in me, through me; I felt the murmur of his power singing back that same song. I was abruptly too hot, and strangely conscious of myself. I pulled my hands free.

All of magic essentially involves sneaking something you want past reality while it's distracted and looking the other way.

Now come on. Let's find the baby unicorns and get out of here.

She was as deep in the Wood's power as any person can be.

The Dragon raised a hand. "Kulkias vizhkias haishimad," he said, and a light shone out of his hand and onto her skin. Where it played over her I saw thick green shadows, mottled like deep layers of leaves on leaves. Something looked at me out of her eyes, its face still and strange and inhuman. I recognized it: what looked out at me was the same thing I had felt in the Wood, trying to find me. There was no trace of Kasia left at all.

was still young and foolish enough at the time to believe myself and my magic likely to elicit admiration instead of alarm, and

Was a lesson to everyone that being a witch was not the same thing as being wise.

My mother had enough magic to give me three blessings before she died. The first was wit; the second beauty, and the third — that fools should recognize neither.

Even when mundanes didn't have science to helpfully explain the world and happily burned witches at the stake, they didn't really believe in magic. If you believed in magic, you wouldn't drag a witch to the stake; you'd have her lob fireballs at your enemies instead.

I felt his shocked alarm. By instinct I pulled him with me towards where the magic was running thinner, as though I really was in a rising river, striking out for a shore. Together we managed to drag ourselves out.

Well," I said after a moment, inconsequentially, "I suppose it did work." He stared at me, outrage dawning, and I started laughing, helplessly, almost snorting: I was dizzy with magic and alarm.

You have done a great working. So now he can do another in return. But high magic never comes without a price." "Why is it a great working that we shoved more than half his treasure into a tunnel?" I said, exasperated. "You were challenged beyond the bounds of what could be done, and found a path to make it true," Tsop said.

but the rest, I suspected, was the subtler magic of contrast; I didn't imagine Mirnatius showed much courtesy to his servants. "Matas and Vladas," I repeated. "Thank you for your care of my old nanushka, and now let us go inside: you must have a drink of hot krupnik in the kitchen after your long trip.

Onderweg was het Woud van me weg geweken, alsof het bang was dat ik de spreuk anders weer zou opzeggen. Fulmia.

I wanted and didn't want his help. I wanted to stay angry at him a while longer, but I wanted the connection more; I wanted to touch him, wanted the brilliant crisp bite of his magic in my hands. I kept my head down and kept working.

The spell towed me along with them, and I was glad to lose myself inside it. All the horrors of the day didn't vanish, but the Summoning made them only one part of the story, and not the most important part.

YOU! You're boring! You're not even good enough for a good insult! You're in the one place Where magic is always real! Part the seas if you want! Rain down ink and blood! Transform! Fly! You're not allowed to spend the rest of your life panicking! You've got to give something back if you want to get out of here! What? What?? What do I give? You've got stories in there, I know, I can smell 'em-- Stoppit, stoppit! I don't! I can't tell a story to save my life! Funny you should put it that way.

Magic. I want magic. I want magic that works. THere is no doctor that can make the creature back into my daddy. No therapy that can make him into what he should have been. No going back to the beginning and rewriting. He is what he is and if I have to write what I know, I'm doomed , because I can never write about this, never.

How it happened that Mastro Cherry, carpenter, found a piece of wood that wept and laughed like a child. Centuries ago there lived -- A king! my little readers will say immediately. No, children, you are mistaken. Once upon a time there was a piece of wood.

To ask me to verify my life by giving you my statistics is like using science to validate sorcery. It robs the world of its magic and makes milestones out of us all.

Siempre había pensado que las viejas estaciones de ferrocarril eran uno de los pocos lugares mágicos que quedaban en el mundo. En ellas se mezclaban los fantasmas de recuerdos y despedidas con el inicio de cientos de viajes a destinos lejanos, sin retorno. Si algun dia me pierdo, que me busquen en una estación de tren, pensé.

He let the hours go by lost in the magic of words, shedding his skin and his name, feeling like another person. He allowed himself to be carried away by the dreams of shadowy characters, the only refuge left for him.

This is a world of shadows, Daniel, and magic is a rare asset. That book taught me that by reading, I could live more intensely. It could give me back the sight I had lost. For that reason alone, a book that didn't matter to anyone changed my life.