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Spells Quotes

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“Six. Sex. Star. David. Saturn. Planet. Rings. Eye. Hexagon. Triangles. Eye. On The Sky. Evil. Pushing Buttons. Sins. Influence. People. Lunatics. Psychopaths. Bad vibes. Frequencies. Praying. For. Easy. Prey. Summoning: Spirits. Tempting. Your female. “Like The Snake.” Sadly, they do “like” the snake and the buttons, too. “Like buttons.” “Life.” “Like.” The psychopath (Adam, Sabrina, Martina…) is obsessed with power, controlling other people in order to achieve their goals. They thrive on control, making others jump and "winning," whether it's world domination or obtaining a ride to the coffeeshop, or just a free lunch. Psychopaths see their condition as a blessing, considering it an advantage in this “eye for an eye” and “kill or be killed” and “dog eat dog” world. In their, sadly: Natural Eyes. They lack remorse or empathy and are incapable of feeling guilt. We are the ones more civilized. They remained more natural. Closer to nature. Only we call them: Evil Eye Cult. They must be calling themselves: The Saturn, The Satan, The Nature Cult or Satan’s Eye (Saturn) Cult. Some of us are in between. Two worlds. Kind of sensing them. Sometimes. Surviving. Too. They aren’t true hunters or predators. They are worse. “They are sucking. Blood.” Bloodthirsty people.”

“Albert died in an unfortunate accident sometime ago and was raised as a zombie by his amateur necromancer friend, Neil. Bubba was a new friend we had acquired in Vegas when helping him gain back the freedom he had previously gambled away. The fourth member of our group, a government agent and my girlfriend named Krystal, was out of town for work this week, thus I was conducting my first weekly scrabble tournament with just the three of us. Which leaves only me to be accounted for in the explanation. My name. which I hope you know by now. is Frederick Frankford Fletcher and I am a vampire, though still not the type that inspires swooning or terror.”

“In this modern world where we are all becoming more and more separate thanks to the incredible growth in information technology, a servitor fills a need for companionship and adventure that many of us are wanting. In a cyber age full of computer generated creations, the servitor companion seems only fitting. It is an old technique, it is a nearly lost human skill, and it is one that will allow you to discover an infinite world of possibilities.”

“Desperately, I needed a reversal of fortunes. Then suddenly, I knew what I needed to do. So, I stopped at the Northside cemetery. Mom was buried there. I gave Deya another pass and left her outside the gates of the cemetery. I wasn’t certain but I didn’t want to mix my perceived notion of Deya’s Voodoo with Mom’s Ghosts, Dead Dawg, and Haints. Too many demons in the same location didn’t appear to be a smart thing. Once inside,I said what I needed to say, laid a rose, and headed back to retrieve my sweetheart. But I knew Deya. She had a fear of ghouls and hitchhikers hanging out in the graveyard. So wisely, I scanned her person for a Greek cross, miniature doll, or chicken foot in her possession. Fortunately, she passed my inspections. So, I left the graveyard, took the wheel, and got the hell out of that area in a haze.”

“O’ Nine of Sacred Woods... When nine of magic woods combine, they create a spell, divine. To use to conjure up the best of all the forest’s great defense. To keep protected and ensure that light and life indeed endures. From Alder, Rowen, Willow, Birch to Hazel, Holly, Hawthorne’s perch. And then there’s Ash, the forest’s Queen, accompanied by the Oak, it’s King. They come together in glen and grove, to grow in such a treasure trove. So, use their force, their strength, and grain, to ensure your powers never wane.”

“Over a bowl of noodles [the younger Cantonese man] waxed eloquent on the subject of mantras. 'Ordinary people, Ah Jon, use mantras as spells to win good fortune or ward off disease and other evils. Perhaps they are right to do so, for the mantras are often successful, but I do not ask you to believe that. What I beg you to believe is that they are of the greatest help in altering states of consciousness. They do this by making your mind stay still instead of chasing after thoughts.' He went on to explain that, being devoid of meaning, they do not promote conceptual thought as prayers, invocations and so forth are apt to do; and that, as each mantra has a mysterious correspondence (he could not explain what kind of correspondence) with the various potentialities embedded deeply in our consciousness […] it could cause one to snap into a state otherwise hard to reach. I do not remember his actual words, but I do remember that he was the first to voice an idea which was later to be abundantly confirmed by my own experience. […] he went on to say that to use meaningful words in any kind of religious practice is useless, since words encourage dualistic thought which hinders the mind from entering upon a truly spiritual state. His last words […] were: 'People who pray with words are just beginners. Don't do it!' Several passengers who understood English glanced at him as though they thought him a bit mad and I myself was quite taken aback by his un-Chinese vehemence, but I know now that he was eminently sane.”

“You cast spells every day. Your makeup is glamor magic. Hiding and highlighting. The clothes you pick out to make your legs look longer, your waist smaller. The red you wear for confidence; the black when you’re sad, the blue for clarity. Your favorite bra. Your lucky socks. The way you take an hour on your hair. It’s a ritual. It’s never just about clothes, or makeup, or perfectly messy buns. It’s about magic.”

“Vivi picks stalks of ragwort that grow near the water troughs. After finding three that meet her specifications, she lifts the first and blows on it, saying, 'Steed, rise and bear us where I command.' With those words, she tosses the stalk to the ground, and it becomes a raw-boned yellow pony with emerald eyes and a mane that resembles lacy foliage. It makes an odd keening neigh. She throws down two more stalks, and moments later three ragwort ponies snort the air and snuffle at the ground. They look a little like sea horses and will ride over land and sky, according to Vivi's command, keeping their seeming for hours before collapsing back into weeds.”

“Witchcraft is an empowering practice that any person can learn, cultivate, and personalize. It is all about stepping outside of our mundane world and choosing to take on a perspective of mysticism and reverence for nature, life, and the energetic forces of this world. But what makes witch-craft simply intoxicating is that it’s about appreciating the world around us. It’s not just about what we can see; it’s about everything in between. It is the love for spirits, messages, other-worldliness, unexplainable things, mysterious connections, and the universal system of checks and balances. That is witchcraft,”

“Witchcraft is more than just a practice, it is a way of life. A way of looking at the physical and spiritual as a collaborative source of manifestation. We are in tune with nature, in tune with ourselves and in alignment with our all-knowing inner witch.”

“The law of manifestation operates like a triangle: First, know what you want and visualize it as if you already had it; Second, see it behind the illusion of reality, practice it in your decisions, choose the people you hang out with, etc; Third, believe, have faith and work on your emotions to be at the right frequency. This triangle of manifestation is one of the secrets of many religions: Christianity, Scientology, and Freemasonry. In Masonry is seen as "heart, mind and desire"; in Scientology is perceived as "reality, communication and affinity"; in Christianity is understood as "Father, son and holy ghost"; basically, "actions, learnings and emotions". In Christianity, the Father equals reality or the Creator of the illusion, the son is the way, the path, he road of our decisions and actions, and the holy ghost is our heart, instincts and desires manifested in that same path. In word words, through Jesus, and with the power of the holy ghost, you reach God. This is an allegory that not many Christians can understand. Jesus represent behavior - right and wrong, the holy ghost is our faith, your heart and emotions reflecting back at you what you attract, it's the energy that connects you to your dreams, and God represents the Architect of Reality. So, through moral behavior and positive emotions, your understand God and life, and then you receive "paradise". This paradise is whatever you dream for yourself. Furthermore, if someone has shown you this way, he has been as an angel to you, a messenger of God; if someone stopped you from reaching it, he has been as a demon, a worker for Satan, the enemy, if you failed in seeing this path, you have redirected yourself towards hell. And if you hate your life, you are already in hell. If you want to get out of hell, you must accept the truth, and this truth is that you must know God, for He is the truth. He and the truth are one and the same.”

“Once quaking with the thunderous hoofbeats of the Wild Hunt, the ground was now littered with the broken limbs of the fallen, swept into the fray by the raging beasts. Bodies fell like autumn leaves, painting the mossy floor red. Their lifeless eyes stared up at the darkened sky, frozen in time, as yet another plea went unanswered by the goddess. They tried, in vain, to do what no other had done before, to rise up against an enemy made of shadows and hate, magic and malice.”

“There would be no survivors come morning. There never were. The Hunt left no hearts beating. There was no escaping the Sidhe. Not even the Fomorians, the powerful demons from below the sea, had outrun the pale ones and were driven back into the bellies of their waves and waters. But the Milesians were not demons like the Fomori. When they had come to Éire, they had a goddess blessed right to claim, and claim it they would. With spilled blood, unthinkable bargains and curses that would stain generations to come, the Milesians stood their ground.”

“The Sidhe oathed themselves to the demands of the victors, but nothing was free. Even freedom came with a cost, a debt waiting to be collected. The fading echoes of horses and haunting sounds of horns signaled the end of one era and the beginning of a new age, with the path of sacrifice nearly forgotten by all but the fae.”

“The moment I stepped foot on the grounds of Legacy House, a chill ran down my spine, as if the air was saturated with the ghosts of those who were buried beneath my feet. It wasn’t just a feeling of this place being haunted. It was a certainty. Falias had been born into the belly of war, and if a person stayed still long enough, they’d be able to smell the bones of the fallen. Nothing covered up the stench of the fae or the death that trailed behind them like rotting puppy dogs.”

“The Hand of Souls has an insatiable thirst. Its wicked delights are woven into the fabric of fate itself. It’s power drawing in souls like moths to a flame. As daylight fades and shadows lengthen, its cursed nature reaches out like vines in the night, ensnaring its user. Those who grasp the Hand of Souls are forever marked by its twisted touch, eternally intertwined with the darkness that plagues its very existence.”

“Holy hell,” I whispered as soon as we stepped into the hall leading to Killian’s court. My entire body shivered as it soaked up the energy twisting around us. If rage had a taste, it would be the poisonous nectar that hung in the air of Death House—bitter-sweet and deadly. It smelled like the inside of a used coffin and was just as dark. My skin prickled with a clammy cold sweat, goosebumps rolling over my skin. “There’s nothing holy about this place.” Julian pulled me closer. “I offer you a few words of wisdom in this hellish place. Do not cower here, Fiadh, not for anyone. This is not a place to look weak. Go in there like you own it. Respect is only earned through fear and dominance within these walls, and you don’t want to be seen as the only coward here. The moment they smell weakness, you’re nothing but prey in a room full of blood-thirsty predators.”

“If you touch me in anger again, whether it be by fist or power, I will end you and bring your court to its knees. I will worm my curses and spells so deep into the roots of your territory that it will look like another haunted forest when I’m done. There will be nothing left for the imps to destroy in my name when I am through. I will sell off pieces of my soul to magic just to end you.”