Quotes About Magic

It is as if the soul of the continent is weeping. Why does it weep? It weeps for the bones of the buffalo. It weeps for magic that has been forgotten. It weeps for the decline of poets. It weeps for the black people who think like white people. It weeps for the Indians who think like settlers. It weeps for the children who think like adults. It weeps for the free who think like prisoners. Most of all, it weeps for the cowgirls who think like cowboys.

Logic only gives man what he needs," he stammered. "Magic gives him what he wants.

The uncle ignored Gracie's father. 'In any event,' he went on, 'when brewers combine hops with yeast and grain and water, and allow the mixture to ferment -- to rot -- it magically produces an elixir so gassy with blue-collar cheer, so regal with glints of gold, so titillating with potential mischief, so triumphantly refreshing, that it seizes the soul and thrusts it toward that ethereal plateau where, to paraphrase Baudelaire, all human whimsies float and merge.

Logic only gives a man what he needs...Magic gives him what he wants.

On where imagination comes from: "I think it comes from fairies … certain children are visited by a fairy in their cradle, and are tapped on their forehead with a small but luminous wand. After that, even all the forces in our culture, and there are many, are unable to totally subdue it.

that aspect of being that once was attuned to wonder.

There was a siren-song magic about their music

No gasp at a miracle that is truly miraculous because the magic lies in the fact that you knew it was there for you all along.

If writing is thinking and discovery and selection and order and meaning, it is also awe and reverence and mystery and magic....Authors arrive at text and subtext in thousands of ways, learning each time they begin anew how to recognize a valuable idea and how to reader the texture that accompanies, reveals or displays it to its best advantage.

If writing is thinking and discovery and selection and order and meaning, it is also awe and reverence and mystery and magic.

None of them knew the downright pleasure of enchantment, of not suspecting but knowing the things behind things.

True happiness comes from within. When we stop looking for social proof and trust in ourselves, a certain magic happens. You are the most important person in your life, and, we are one.

Margaret grasped on to the magic of novels because they held out hope that Mary—and she herself—might yet have a chance at marriage. While my own experience of life was limited, I knew such a thing would not happen. It hurt, but the truth often does.

Pregnant women often don't make the connection between their babies and sex. Neither do men. The two are so different, it is like magic.

The world doesn't extend in merely two dimensions. There exist profound depths within itself. This world could never be summarized by materialism or any single doctrine. Accept the great mysteries...and explore the universe from within your world. That is the way of magic.

You are my heart, my soul," he said, his arms going around my waist and holding me tightly. "As you are mine," I repeated. The magic in the air got stronger, thrumming through the forest, matching the rhythm of our breathing, matching the beating of our hearts. "Dance with me, this night and for the rest of our nights," he said. "For as long as the moon shines in the sky and for as long as we live underneath her.

No podríamos seguir siendo amigos?... -Seguro que muere un hada cada vez que en algún lugar del mundo se formula esta pregunta.

Lass uns Freunde bleiben - dieser Spruch war wirklich das allerletzte. Bestimmt stirbt jedesmal eine Fee, wenn irgendwo auf der Welt jemand diesen Satz ausspricht.' - Gwendolyn

You're not ordinary, Gwyneth," he whispered as he began stroking my hair. "You're totally, absolutely extraordinary. You don't need the magic of any raven to be special to me." He leaned as close as he could get, with his head and arms through the opening of the confessional window, and when his lips touched my mouth, I shut my eyes. Okay. So now I was going to faint.

Let's stay friends—I mean, that really was the end!" "What do you bet a fairy dies every time someone says that anywhere in the world?

Ruby red, with G major, the magic of the raven, brings the Circle of Twelve home into safe haven.

En su cimbreo rojo rubí oye el cuervo cantar a los muertos, apenas conoce el precio, apenas la fuerza, el poder se alza y el Círculo se cierra. Del orgulloso león de faz de diamante, vela el súbito hechizo la luz brillante. Con el sol que agoniza él cambia la suerte, y el final revela, del cuervo, la muerte. De los Escritos secretos del conde de Saint Germain

Für mich brauchst du keine Magie, um etwas Besonderes zu sein.

Ein magischer Ort in den Wolken. Eine Heldin, die ein bisschen zu neugierig ist. Und das Abente.uer ihres Lebens