Quotes About Magic

She's got zero interest in honest-to-goodness human-on-human action. No. It's magic farmyard creatures or nothing for her.

Life was menial and lacked enchantment.

Books were a gateway into an alternative universe. They were magic. A book could hold anything inside it.

I'm sorry, man, but I've got magic. I've got poetry in my fingertips. Most of the time - and this includes naps - I'm an F-18, bro. And I will destroy you in the air. I will deploy my ordinance to the ground.

We're going to shoot one Polaroid per show. I'm going to sign this before it even develops because I know that once it develops with my signature on it, it's worth a fortune. I'll make this a work of magic warlock art.

Clasping her to him, he hugged her for a long while and she felt his guilt and fear subside. "Do you want to see something very special—something magical?" Giggling she whispered, "You already showed me that this morning." He swatted her bottom. "Minx! Not that!

What happened back there? That was … it was magic, wasn't it?" "Either magic, or that woman is so crazy she can fly.

Do they know?" "Know what?" "About your car," she whistled quietly between her teeth. "Not unless they're magically tracking me by the pixie dust that spills out of my ass. It

Charlie tipped her head up. "Are you sure? We're a simple people. No automobiles or fancy gadgets." "Simple?" She chuckled. "Ha! Worlds that think and kings that plot? Sandobbles and goblins, portals and two moons? You are sadly mistaken. Besides," she said, tracing the edge of his forewing with the tip of her finger. He shuddered against her. "There's magic here.

Water fell from the sky and dripped from the branches, streaming down the gully of the trail. I walked beneath the enormous trees, the forest canopy high above me, the bushes and low-growing plants that edged the trail soaking me as I brushed past. Wet and miserable as it was, the forest was magical—Gothic in its green grandiosity, both luminous and dark, so lavish in its fecundity that it looked surreal, as if I were walking through a fairy tale rather than the actual world.

As difficult and maddening as the trail could be, there was hardly a day that passed that didn't offer up some form of what was called trail magic in the PCT vernacular—the unexpected and sweet happenings that stand out in stark relief to the challenges of the trail.

Solitude coaxes magical things from our souls.

Tea is a magical calming elixir — kind of like if coffee had a therapist.

I have long thought, and still think, that radio is magic. Television is OK, but radio is magic. If television had been invented first and then radio had come along, people would think, "What a wonderful thing this radio is! It's like television except you don't have to look at it!"

Words have magic, and they have power. Words have color, a vivid brilliant red. Words can be drab, an old battleship gray. Words can soothe, and words can ruffle.

Forest air is magical.

I for one have always believed in the unicorn... The unicorn has managed to weave itself a very haunting reputation.

When someone told me that I live in a fantasyland, I nearly fell off my unicorn.

Hey, I like unicorns. Unicorns are just weaponized ponies.

Unicorns are just horny ponies.

If there is magic on this planet, it is contained in water.

Beach air is magical.

Wine is liquid stardust.

DENTIST, n. A prestidigitator who, putting metal into your mouth, pulls coins out of your pocket.