Quotes About Magic

Elayne had heard of the great works performed by large circles of men and women. Every woman in the White Tower was taught of these feats from the past, stories of different days, better days. Days when one half of the One Power had not been a thing to fear, when two halves of one whole had worked together to create incredible wonders.

Omong kosong tidak bisa mencukur domba Rand al'Thor

He could cut a Trolloc in half with a gateway at three hundred paces, and summon fire from inside Dragonmount itself, and he still wanted to carry a sword. It was, she decided, a male thing. I

Surely there was nothing that could not be Healed, not if the woman wielding the Power was determined enough. When

Halfway to Min he became aware of lightning bolts lancing out of the sky and fireballs exploding overhead.

His huge, ambitious Wheel of Time series helped redefine the genre." —George R. R. Martin, internationally bestselling author of A Game of Thrones

Kan ve lanet küller!

Rand thrust his hands high and channeled. "I am the Dragon Reborn!" The words boomed across the square, amplified by Air and Fire, and flames shot up from his hands a hundred feet. Behind him, the Asha'man filled the sky with balls of fire streaking in every direction. All save Dashiva, who made blue lightnings crackle in a jagged web above the square.

Trollocs and Fades and Warders?

He could cut a Trolloc in half with a gateway at three hundred paces, and summon fire from inside Dragonmount itself, and he still wanted to carry a sword. It was, she decided, a male thing.

There is no perfectly shaped part of the motorcycle and never will be, but when you come as close as these instruments take you, remarkable things happen, and you go flying across the countryside under a power that would be called magic if it were not so completely rational in every way.

This mammoth picaresque novel1 quickly dispels our haunting dread that it might be just another attempt (we've seen plenty) to fatten up a basic skeleton of a premise by packing on the flab of fungible soap-operatic blubber, connecting the microdots with a mile-wide magic marker.

That summer we had been absolutely alone, together, even when people were around, the only inhabitants of the kind of floating island or magic carpet which being in love is.

The world calls them its singers and poets and artists and storytellers; but they are just people who have never forgotten the way to fairyland.

She had a way of embroidering life with stars.

Fairyland is the loveliest word because it means everything the human heart desires.

They captured in their ramble all the mysteries and magics of a March evening. Very still and mild it was, wrapped in a great, white, brooding silence -- a silence which was yet threaded through with many little silvery sounds which you could hear if you hearkened as much with your soul as your ears. The girls wandered down a long pineland aisle that seemed to lead right out into the heart of a deep-red, overflowing winter sunset.

Let's sum up... a little house, white and green or to be made so... with trees, preferably birch and spruce... a window looking seaward... on a hill. That sounds very possible... but there is one other requirement. There must be magic about it, Jane... lashings of magic... and magic houses are scarce, even on the Island. Have you any idea at all what I mean, Jane? Jane reflected. You want to feel that the house is yours before you buy it, she said. Jane, said dad, you are too good to be true.

Oh, Gilbert, don't let's ever grow too old and wise... no, not too old and silly for fairyland.

For there is no bond more lasting than that formed by the mutual confidences of that magic time when youth is slipping from the sheath of childhood and beginning to wonder what lies for it beyond those misty hills that bound the golden road.

You make me believe in fairies, whether I will or no, he told her, and that means youth. As long as you believe in fairies you can't grow old.

Do you know what? I think the evening star is a lighthouse on the land where the fairies dwell.

Once upon a time--which, when you come to think of it, is really the only proper way to begin a story--the only way that really smacks of romance and fairyland--

And when it tips on a cloud some of them spill out and fall into your sleep.