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Witch Quotes

“Professor Hex looked on the city of Amarillo and raised her arms. “In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent from God to a city of Galilee named Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. And the virgin's name was Mary. And he came to her and said, “Greetings, O favored one, the Lord is with you!” But she was greatly troubled at the saying, and tried to discern what sort of greeting this might be. And the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.” Professor Hex laughed. “Oh my dear, dear men, you are the new Mary.” As she recited these words, the city lights illuminated her face, revealing a disturbing grin that hinted at mischief and maybe even malevolence. A sinister laugh came from the depths of her pain. “You've been impregnated by the Holy Spirit!” Her words took on a mocking tone, the resonance of her laughter cutting through the night. “You will now know what it is like to be forced to carry a child by God!”

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Book:Professor Hex vs. Texas Men: Where Women's Rights and Revenge Fantasy Meet
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“She wondered if every place in New Orleans had a secret garden, if every place was so witchy and beautiful. And for the first time, she was filled with an enormous pride for who she was--what she was, all of it. That pride filled the spaces between her bones so that it was impossible not to stand tall. Anxiety makes everything feel very big or very small, depending on which is more hurtful in the moment. Being suddenly relived of anxiety in this moment gave her a clear understanding that this was the life she had been running towards. Not necessarily New Orleans, not a distant dot on a map, not a brand-new career, but a life full of secret gardens”

PurposeFeminismPrideAnxietyGardenWitchWitchesNew OrleansWitchcraftSecret Garden
Book:VenCo
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“When she had arranged her household affairs, she came to the library and bade me follow her. Then, with the mirror still swinging against her knees, she led me through the garden and the wilderness down to a misty wood. It being autumn, the trees were tinted gloriously in dusky bars of colouring. The rowan, with his amber leaves and scarlet berries, stood before the brown black-spotted sycamore; the silver beech flaunted his golden coins against my poverty; firs, green and fawn-hued, slumbered in hazy gossamer. No bird carolled, although the sun was hot. Marina noted the absence of sound, and without prelude of any kind began to sing from the ballad of the Witch Mother: about the nine enchanted knots, and the trouble-comb in the lady's knotted hair, and the master-kid that ran beneath her couch. Every drop of my blood froze in dread, for whilst she sang her face took on the majesty of one who traffics with infernal powers. As the shade of the trees fell over her, and we passed intermittently out of the light, I saw that her eyes glittered like rings of sapphires. ("The Basilisk")”

FallFantasyTreeAutumnWitchTreesDark FantasyRowanBalladFirSycamore Beech
Book:Terror by Gaslight: More Victorian Tales of Terror
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“Our ancestors did not separate magick and witchcraft from their daily lives. Witchcraft was more than just a practice, it was a way of life. A way of looking at the physical and spiritual as a collaborative source of manifestation. In this way, Old World Witchcraft honors the all-encompassing lifestyle of the witch. We are in tune with nature, in tune with ourselves and in alignment with our all-knowing inner witch.”

WitchSpellsMagickOld WaysOld World WitchcraftBack To Nature
Author:Dacha Avelin
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“Of course no one accused the old woman of being a witch. But she was foreign. Her words percolated up the tunnel of her throat , espresso-thick and strong. Bad weather had eroded her face. Some believed that the sun had crisped her skin into coriaceous pleats. Others blamed the chaw of a wintry climate. No one knew where she came from, though lots of people privately thought that perhaps she ought to go back.”

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Book:Sweet Home
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“All my life,I've been afraid of things, as a child and a woman must be. I lied about it naturally. I fancied myself a witch and walked in dark streets to punish myself for my doubts. But I knew what it meant to be afraid. And now, in this darkness, I fear nothing. If you were to leave me here, I would feel nothing. I would walk as I am walking now. As a man, you can't know what I mean by what I say.You can't know a woman's vulnerability. You can't know the sense of power that belongs to me now.”

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Book:Merrick
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“What is that,' Devlon asked. Nesta merely stared at him, one hand clamping the edges of her grey cloak together at her chest. One of the other camp lords made some sign against evil. 'That,' Cassian said too quietly, 'is none of your concern.' 'Is she a witch?' I opened my mouth, but Nesta said flatly, 'Yes.' And I watched as nine full-grown, weathered Illyrian warlords flinched. 'She may act like one sometimes,' Cassian clarified, 'but no- she's High Fae.”

FunnySarah J MaasWitchCassianNesta ArcheronNestaA Court Of Wings And RuinHigh FaeDevlonFlinching
Book:A Court of Wings and Ruin
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“She stared at the bullwhip coiled Indiana Jones-style at his narrow waist, then at the black-handled dagger sheathed on his right hip. An obsidian rapier--Fae-forged and unbreakable--almost merged with one of the taped seams that ran down the sides of his pants. He even wore a dagger gunslinger-style at his hip. Dear Goddess, the man was a walking arsenal, but he was sexy as hell.”

DragonsWitchUrbanFewRomance Fantasy
Book:Curse of the Fae King
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“My name is Koshka, and this Human person is Jazz. She is the protégé of the Baba Yaga Bella, and I am Bella’s Chudo-Yudo.” “Oh,” said the Dwarf, and doffed his hat, briefly revealing a shiny bald spot before putting it back on again. “Why didn’t you say so?” He scowled. “I thought you were door-to-door salesmen.” “Do you get a lot of that in the Otherworld?” Jazz asked, genuinely interested in the answer. Somehow she hadn’t imagined that would be a problem here. Smythe shook his head. “Not yet. But I’ve heard all about them, and I expect they’ll turn up any day.”

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Book:Wickedly Spirited
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“Only one kiss. That was what he had intended. But Ciera’s lips were sweet like the juice of a pomegranate, and her skin under his hands felt like velvet. When she put her arms around him, he deepened the kiss, pulling the pins out of her hair until it cascaded over her shoulders. The tiny jingle of the bits of metal falling to the floor was almost lost in the moan she let out when he moved his lips down her neck, and then he was lost too.”

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Book:Dangerously Divine
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“You see, a witch has to have a familiar, some little animal like a cat or a toad. He helps her somehow. When the witch dies the familiar is suppose to die too, but sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes, if it's absorbed enough magic, it lives on. Maybe this toad found its way south from Salem, from the days when Cotton Mather was hanging witches. Or maybe Lafitte had a Creole girl who called on the Black Man in the pirate-haven of Barataria. The Gulf is full of ghosts and memories, and one of those ghosts might very well be that of a woman with warlock blood who'd come from Europe a long time ago, and died on the new continent. And possibly her familiar didn't know the way home. There's not much room for magic in America now, but once there was room. ("Before I Wake...")”

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Book:Masters of Horror
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