Quotes About Supernatural

Inari screamed and swung her stake, but her Buffy impersonation wasn't any better than mine.

If a White Court vampire wants to feed off a human, all she really has to do is crook her finger, and he comes running. There isn't any ominous music. Nobody sparkles. As far as anyone looking on is concerned, a girl winks at a boy and goes off somewhere to make out. Happens every day. They don't get

Apocalypses always kick off at the witching hour.

Mort looked at the cat and sighed. "Oh, sure. Professional ectomancer with a national reputation as a medium tells you what's going on, and nobody believes him. But let a stump-tailed, furry critter come in and everyone goes all Lifetime." "Heh," said Sir Stuart, quietly amused. "What did I tell you? Cats.

When the Queens of Summer and Winter took to the same field, there were always storms.

Fuel a love spell with rage and you're likely to get some odd side effects, for example.

How long have you been a Wiccan?" "A what?" "A pagan. A witch." "I'm not a witch," I said, glancing out the door. "I'm a wizard." Sanya frowned. "What is the difference?" "Wizard has a Z.

We'll just have to hope that this wasn't a loup-garou, I guess." "If it was a louper, you'd know," Bob said wisely. "In the middle of this town, you'd have a dozen people dead every time the full moon came around. What's going on?" "A dozen people are dying every time the full moon comes around.

What can I say? I put the 'ick' in 'magic.

Relationships hadn't ever really worked for me. I think it's had something to do with all the demons, ghosts, and human sacrifice.

in a counterclockwise direction, also known as widdershins

Apocalypses always kick off at the witching hour. That's something you know now.

You know. I never really thought to ask before—but what is that dust made of?" "Depleted uranium," I told him. "At least, that's the base ingredient. I had to add in a lot of other things. Cold iron, basil, dung from a—" "Never mind," he said. "I don't want to know.

You can't photograph anything really supernatural," I pointed out. "The energies around things like that will mess up cameras.

Holy shit," I breathed. "Hellhounds." "Harry," Michael said sternly. "You know I hate it when you swear." "You're right. Sorry. Holy shit," I breathed, "heckhounds

Now I had to contend not only with pornography-syndicate conspiracies, but also a succubus of the White Court. Or maybe more than one, which for grammatical reasons I hoped was not the case.

So," Murphy said. "All we need to do is get you up to the top of the pit, and then you're going to go one-on-four with a bunch of armed FBI agents-cum-werewolves and beat them in time to go up against the loup-garou that we couldn't stop before with all of your magical gizmos and a building full of police officers." "Essentially," I answered. Murphy

with unnatural fury and grace.

Werewolfkateer

Freaking manipulative faeries," I

I couldn't arm wrestle an ogre, even with the mantle. I couldn't have won a magical duel with Mab or Titania—probably not even against Maeve or Lily. I couldn't outrun one of the Sidhe. But I could defy absolutely anyone. I could lift my will against that of anything, and know that the fight might be lopsided, but never hopeless.

It's tough for magic to argue with physics, most of the time.

Then I drew in a breath, and my renewed will with it, lifted the rod in my right hand, murmured a phrase in a language I didn't know, and blew the tires off his fucking truck.

That was black magic, and it was easy to use. Easy and fun. Like Legos.