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Magical Realism Quotes

Browse 287 quotes about Magical Realism.

Magical Realism Quotes

“You think your life is unfurling in a certain way, and you let yourself grow happy about it, a smile rising at the slightest thing. A boy in short pants eating a pastelito makes you grin like a lunatic at the vision of your own hoped‐for children, their dark shiny heads rising, year by year, from the Cuban earth, your wife towering behind them, kind and wise. Then you find yourself in a midnight cemetery guarding your mustache from the covetous ghost of an American woman you once loved. Who wouldn’t laugh?”

UniqueGhostsHauntingLiterary FictionSurrealCubaMagical RealismCemeterySpeculative FictionCollection
Book:The Only Sound Is the Wind: Stories
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“Nostalgia is old hat,” Carol says. Carol tears down the yellow leaflets, pinup girls, and wallpaper garden. For a while everything is bare. A month goes by and it is Christmas. Carol only hangs up the pinup girls. Then she hangs up the wallpaper garden. The leaflets have been burnt.”

HumorFictionNostalgiaShort StoryUnrequited LoveDark HumorMagical RealismBittersweetLiterature QuotesUnrequited Love Quotes
Book:The 3288 Review: Volume 1, Issue 3
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“I've been able to see colors around people and objects my whole life long. Through my eyes, colors drifted around people, like softly falling snow, offering glimpses of personalities. Floaters, I called them. It had taken me years to figure out the language of the colors, their meaning. Take Alice, for example. Orange floated around her, telling me of her playful, energetic personality. But after my car accident, other colors, secondary colors, had become sharper, clearer, louder. They were emotional colors and were nearly impossible to ignore. After Mabel had knocked me down, around Alice there had been sparks of dark plum. Remorse. "Were you able to see her personality?" Glory asked, her thin eyebrows raised high. Only close family knew how I could see color---it was too hard, too strange, to explain to others. However, my abilities weren't the least bit odd to Glory, who knew where to plant a flower seed simply by looking at it, or to my mother, who had never been lost a day in her life because she instinctively knew which direction to go. We came from a long line of people who had enhanced intuitions connected to nature.”

EmotionsMagical RealismColorsPersonality TraitsIntuitionsNature Consciousness
Book:In the Middle of Hickory Lane
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“Every recipe in this book has the potential to help someone in need. The recipes work in many different ways, depending on the individual's circumstances," she explains, "but the recipe for Orange Blossom Cake is special. The person who takes the first bite of the cake will see a vision of the sweetest moment of happiness that awaits them in life.”

HappinessCakeMagical RealismOrange BlossomVision Of Future
Book:The Secret of Orange Blossom Cake
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“Through the years, you’ve released parts of you. Some went into the sewer, others you left at your friends’ houses, some on the sidewalk while riding your bike as a kid. Your body is used to being taken apart by pieces and put back together. Swapping parts is hardwired into human existence. It takes on a much larger role in death.”

FunYoung AdultEntertainingZombiesMagical RealismOriginalComicalHumourous Situations
Book:The Zombie Wizards of Ala-ka
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“Just as you drop body parts, those parts reassemble, and have done so continuously over the history of the earth. People decompose, become dirt, dirt becomes vegetables and fruit, animals and people eat the food that grows from the dirt that was once a body. It is all one big recycling program the earth does.”

FunYoung AdultEntertainingZombiesMagical RealismOriginalComicalHumourous Situations
Book:The Zombie Wizards of Ala-ka
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“Throughout history, parents have tried to name their offspring in a manner that would foretell the trajectory of their future. It’s one of the first spells humans encounter in this life. Little did your parents know what would happen today, for you, because of your name, but they blessed this day for you.”

FunYoung AdultEntertainingZombiesMagical RealismOriginalComicalHumourous Situations
Book:The Zombie Wizards of Ala-ka
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“Very soon you will find yourself at the end of a dirt road, only inches from a threshold . . . a threshold into another world—a glorious world, one of infinite possibility. You’ll be standing there contemplating your next move when a gust of wind whispers, “Have faith.” When you hear those magic words, it’ll be time for you to cross the threshold and begin your journey . . .”

Time TravelLiterary FictionMagical RealismDreams And RealityComing Of Age NovelJourney Of Self DiscoveryGhost StoryVisionary FictionTransformation Of ConsciousnessVisionary Inspirational
Book:A Hero Dreams
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“The wind was blustering again, whipping the curtains. Peter went over to close the window. The moon was now high on the eastern rise, radiant above the church where small water-cart clouds raced across the sky. About to fasten the window latch, his eye was drawn down to the garden. The fox stood under the apple tree looking up at him. The animal began to bark. Each monosyllabic yip and yap seemed to mimic human speech. By some strange power or spell, Peter could understand what the animal was saying. He heard the words loud and clear. ‘I-am Si-on,’ the fox barked. Man and beast looked unwaveringly at one another, neither moving a muscle. The wind stopped blowing, the curtains hung at rest. Peter leaned out the window. ‘What do you want from me?’ he called down. ‘Save-us-from-the-stea-lers,’ barked Sion. Peter’s mind reeled. It would be madness to believe he could understand what the fox was saying—lunacy to think he could commune with it! ‘I must still be asleep,’ he reasoned, closing the window. He sat down on the bed, folding his hands in his lap. But this is not a dream. Lying down, he pulled the bedcovers over himself. ‘Save-us! Save-us! Save-us!’ the fox kept barking from the garden.”

FantasyMagical RealismFolkloreNature WritingChristian FantasyCeltic MythologyAnthropomorphicDruidryCeltic MagicZoomorphism
Book:Heart of the Earth: A Fantastic Mythical Adventure of Courage and Hope, Bound by a Shared Destiny
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“Not knowing how he had come to sit behind the steering wheel, he considered driving into town for help but was too fucked up to walk much less commandeer Emma’s truck. The hike into the canyon where her body would be—500 feet beneath the Claw and at least a 90-minute jog from the truck—was too much to consider, the stream requiring being forded at least a dozen times. Paralyzed by indecision and the horror of seeing her jump, he pounded the steering wheel with palms, tears soaking his face, collecting like dew drops in the wiry strands of his beard. “What the fuck? What the fucking fuck? Goddammit Emma…” Desiring nothing other than to have her back, he felt the urge to lie down on the seat and cry himself into oblivion, having no more control over himself than he had over the way Powerball had spun the universe, spitting out random equations from a spinning cage. So maybe, his mind conspired, she didn’t jump and was still wandering around the Claw, lost, searching him out. But the image of her stretching her arms wide and leaping was crystalline in its authenticity, tangible and substantial. She’s not here. The voice returned, stripping earthly context from reality. Go look somewhere else. “...the other half found me stumbling around and drunk on burgundy wine,” the tape player shattered his thoughts as though someone had thrown a large rock through the windshield, the engine suddenly idling. Like it just happened on its own, there was no way he’d touched the key. Fumbling for the cassette deck’s knobs, he watched his hand disappear into the dash, lacking mass or substance, sensation, an immaterial thing dangling uselessly from the end of his arm. Outside the truck, the mountain and trees pivoted, the world turning on a spindle, the turnout giving way to the meadow and the rutted path back to the gate. Gooch watched the speedometer needle bounce back and forth, wind tumbling the dashboard trash and debris so that everything danced against the windshield in time to the music. “I’ll get up and fly away….”

ConsciousnessHistorical FictionUrban FantasyScifiMagical RealismQuantum PhysicsPsychedelicsGrateful DeadMarijuana Cultivation Philosophy
Book:A Rare and Different Tune: Book Two in the Powerball Trilogy
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“We love each other. That’s all we need to make it work.” “So said every werewolf before his craving overtook him and his witch lover killed his naïve, stupid ass. We always love them. Our love for witches has never been an issue.”

Urban FantasyWitchesMagical RealismUrban Fantasy RomanceFairytale RetellingAfrican American AuthorsWerewolves Paranormal RomanceAfrican American RomanceAfrican American Literature
Book:Crimson Hunter
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“When people ate what Anna O'Brien baked, they smiled wider, laughed louder, and left the bakery she'd inherited with more confidence than when they arrived. Her chocolate chip cookies made Jordan Hillman propose to Julie Farmer on their fourth date. Her OREO brownies caused Roger Jackson to think he could dance the Charleston like he had in the '40's. One sip of her Saturday morning hot chocolate made everyone a good neighbor. People in town swore Anna could make anything better than the original, and they were right. It was a skill she'd been honing since she was big enough to stand on a step stool and help her grandma in the kitchen. While most children spent their after-school time watching cartoons and their summers flying kites and playing pickup games of baseball, Anna spent almost all her free time helping at Bea's Bakery. Anna had a superior sense for knowing how to combine ingredients and flavors into delicious creations. She also had an unusually strong sense of smell, which gave her an incredible advantage for pairing ingredients in a way that enhanced the eating experience. Each treat she made engaged the eyes, the nose, the tongue, and every pleasing nerve in the body.”

Magical RealismSouthern FictionLocal FoodBakerGifted Woman
Book:The Baker's Man
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“I built a stone sittin' ledge around the natural spring, which I'm calling the gazing pool because it's mesmerizing. The bees love it, too. I often see them flying near it, and sometimes, and I know this sounds strange, they seem to take on a golden shimmer when they're near the water. I planted some ferns at the pool, too, because some believe ferns represent magic, and it sure feels magical out there to me.”

GardenPoolBeesMagical RealismGazingShimmerFernsDiary Entry
Book:In the Middle of Hickory Lane
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