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Magic Powers Quotes

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Magic Powers Quotes

“It was clear that Meredith was special. Extraordinary, like Redbud had been. A conjurer. And then there was Cliff. The first seer in the family in five generations. He could see snatches of the future, but also people's emotions and the hidden qualities of things. They, not Lee, would be the ones to perpetuate the tradition and continue Belva's work. Lee would always be there to support them and to spend a day or a night around the fire. But she didn't want to dedicate her life to it. Lee had started looking at the counseling graduate program at the university a few hours away. She may not be powerful like her mother or Meredith, but she could roam around a person's internal landscape. She wanted to help people like her mother. She knew how seemingly impossible it was to treat addiction, and that was a challenge she wanted to meet. The quest for knowledge was where she'd thrived all those years ago, and she wanted to return to it. That was where she belonged. And now she would use it to serve her community, as generations of Bucks had done before her.”

“I'm here to give a tithe," she told the Heartwood. "I give you my voice---and with it, my dreams beyond the woods. I'll be your new Song Mage, if you'll have me." Breathing in sharply, Emeline thought of the cost. She would never again sing her songs beneath the lights. Never walk out on a new stage or record an album she was proud of. She would never get the chance to prove she could make it on her terms. Emeline breathed out, letting it go. It hurt when the woods took her offering. Like hands reaching in and plucking out her soul, severing her from her oldest dream. But when she breathed, something new flooded in. It felt like the night she sang to the elm tree cage, asking the trees to set Hawthorne free. She'd felt the power in her voice flow out of her that night. This time, though, it was the reverse. Power was flowing in. Infusing her marrow and blood. Folding itself into her skin. It was like Grace said: there was magic in sacrifice. Emeline had tithed the most precious thing she owned, and something equally precious was filling in the gaps. It coursed through her---thick as honey, bright as starlight. Pushing like a blazing-hot sun. Humming like a swarm of contented bees. Power. It tasted like sugared sunshine on her tongue.”

“Leave me,” he groaned in pain. “Run.”
His face paled, blood dribbling between his lips as he coughed. I’d seen death on people’s faces more times than I could count. Death had a way of revealing people’s true natures. Some people begged, some threatened, some tried to bargain. And this idiot I didn’t even know was dying and still trying to help me. I hated him for it. He started trying to talk again, grabbing at my hands. “Shut up, dumbass,” I hissed at him, pressing harder at his wound. He cried out in pain, but his cry cut off as the familiar warmth spread from my chest down my arms and into his stomach. The bullet had gone clean through his gut. Normally a death wound, but not tonight. I could feel his body mending beneath my fingers, all the muscles and organs knitting themselves back together. His hand curled over the top of one of mine, squeezing gently, and I glanced up to see his eyes full of awe. The wound closed shut, leaving what I knew would be a fresh pink scar, and all the warmth left me.”

“What’d you mean when you said it would never be enough?” The sudden change in topics made me nauseous. “It’s…nothing,” I lied. “You can tell me,” he urged. “I…I just…” Gods, those damn brown eyes made it hard to think straight. “I have a lot of blood on my hands.” He frowned. “I have this…this power to heal…but I keep…I keep hurting people. I don’t know…I don’t know if I can heal enough…to make up for it.” “Are you keeping score?” he asked, but not in a mocking way. He studied my face, his brow furrowed as though he wanted to understand. “No. I don’t know. I just…I want to…I need to balance the scales.” “What scales?” “The…scales.” I gestured vaguely with one hand, my face heating. “Do you feel responsible every time you can’t heal someone?” “I've watched so many people die," I whispered. "People I could've saved with my powers."”

“Man has bought brains, but all the millions in the world have failed to buy love. Man has subdued bodies, but all the power on earth has been unable to subdue love. Man has conquered whole nations, but all his armies could not conquer love. Man has chained and fettered the spirit, but he has been utterly helpless before love. Thus love has the magic power to make of a beggar a king.”

“Stoutly as we may affirm that our disasters and vices are chargeable to luck, we never dream of ascribing our meritorious deeds, in the slightest degree to its agency. In such cases we quite unconsciously blink out of sight the magic power of the latter principle, so wondrous and all-controlling in its influence at other times, and coolly appropriate to ourselves not merely the lion's share, but the whole glory of our position.”

“Yet magic is no more than the art of employing consciously invisible means to produce visible effects. Will, love and imagination are magic powers that everyone possesses; and whoever knows how to develop them to their fullest extent is a magician. Magic has but one dogma, namely, that the seen is the measure of the unseen.”

“Not only in peasant homes, but also in city skyscrapers, there lives alongside the twentieth century, the thirteenth. A hundred million people use electricity and still believe in the magic powers of signs and exorcisms . . . movie stars to mediums. Aviators who pilot miraculous mechanisms created by man's genius wear amulets on their sweaters. What inexhaustible reserves they possess of darkness, ignorance and savagery!”