Black Magic Sanction Rachel Ivy Quotes

She was getting bitchy.That was a good sign. "What am I supposed to do till you get back?" I said, patting the smouldering leather. "Hide in my closet? I"d rather be with you. ~ Kim Harrison

Pierce made a calculating noise, accidentally brushing my knee as he shifted. "As Jenks would say, you snore nice."
I smiled back unconvincingly. I snore nice. Not "I opine that your auditory nasal exhalations are most pleasing. ~ Kim Harrison

The demon's eyes flicked to mine, his smile widening. "This is Nicholas Gregory Sparagmos's room," he said, and my breath caught. "Delightful, just delightful! What are you doing in Nicky's room, Rachel? Ooooh, he summoned you to the West Coast, didn't he? Did you kill him? Good for you for taking care of that little problem! I should give you a bunny. Where is he? Stuffed in a closet?" ~ Algaliarept, Black Magic Sanction, Kim Harrison ~ Kim Harrison

I opine-I think you're a woman of your world,' he said from the far end of the couch. 'I would have a hard time seeing you pressed and powdered, dreading a life of servitude under the name of marriage. You'd die in that mold. I like you as you are, fiery and ill tempered. ~ Kim Harrison

Cursing and healing. Left Hand path and Right Hand path. Black and White. Desiring and Repelling. They are all part of the same circle. All interlocking forms of spiritual, magickal and transformational work. Human energies in the spiritual, coming into the material world through perfectly natural means. ~ Dacha Avelin

Look at the sky. It's not dark and black and without character. The black is, in fact deep blue. And over there: lighter blue and blowing through the blues and blackness the winds swirling through the air and then shining, burning, bursting through: the stars! And you see how they roar their light. Everywhere we look, the complex magic of nature blazes before our eyes. ~ Richard Curtis

People who love us do black magic on us, but they don't know what they do. That is why we must forgive them; they don't know what they do. ~ Miguel Ruiz

I swear the man could seduce the holy mother! ~ Leigh Ann Edwards

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. ~ Moira Fowley Doyle

I practice neither black nor white magic.
What I do is a technology that I use for my own individual purposes. I don't strive to be a member of a club. ~ Christopher Rankin

Pure faith in the benevolece of the Divine can also degenerate into destructive forms of religion like othodoxy, fundamentalism, sectarianism, fanaticism, black magic and witchcraft. ~ Nirmala Srivastava

The Word is the Magic that Humans possess and misuse of the Word is Black Magic ...
Be Impeccable with Your Word. ~ Miguel Angel Ruiz

I am the essence of magic, its mysteriousness, its beauty and its ability to make things happen when people couldn't see how! ~ Jenaitre Farquharson

Holy gallnipper, how long till we hit the magic trail? It's gloomier than my own funeral I here."
Camille adjusted the bag's rope and looked at Ira. "Don't even joke about that."
Since the moment they'd entered the forest, she'd felt like something was listening. Like they'd woken some sleeping creature, and now it followed them with silent cunning. The deafening chants had not returned to pierce her eardrums, but danger still felt close.
A few paces ahead of her, Oscar peeled away another cobweb, the octagonal spinning so massive Camille didn't even want to imagine the size of the spider that had created it.
"Mate, you got a stomach made of iron," Ira said.
A flash of orange and black swept in front of Camille's eyes and she felt an odd tug on her dress. She looked down and froze. A spider with a body the size of her first flexed its hairy legs on her skirt. It started to scuttle up. Her scream echoed through the forest as she swiped the spider off. It hit the marshy ground and scampered under a log. Oscar grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him.
"Did it bite you?"
She shook her head, arms and legs stiff with fear.
"I've never seen one so bloody big," Ira said, running past the log as though the spider would leap out at him. Oscar started walking again, his hand on the small of her back. She exhaled with more than one kind of relief. He was at least still concerned for her.
As they started to pick up their pace, another black cr ~ Angie Frazier

'The Black Prism' is a story of emperors and prisoners and magic set in a Mediterranean, 1600-esque world. It's a fantasy story; it's fast and fun and inventive. ~ Brent Weeks

Can anyone capable of genuinely appreciating Mozart and Mizoguchi possibly say that he is not, in that respect, immeasurably better off than someone whose cultural horizon is limited to bingo and The Black and White Minstrel Show? The assimilation will not necessarily make him a better person (a common, and obviously fallacious, assumption), but it will open to him possibilities that are closed to his less fortunate fellow humans. If that is what is meant by an "élite," then I for one shall not willingly sacrifice my membership of it in the name of some perverse and destructive egalitarianism: to put it succinctly, nothing is ever going to come between me and The Magic Flute. It is not, however, an elite from which I would wish anyone to feel excluded: on the contrary, I would like to share my advantages with as many others as possible. That is why I am a teacher. ~ Robin Wood

People who don't do jazz think it's black magic. But really, it's just a matter of getting used to it. It's fun to gamble. The trick is not to fall back on the things you've done before. ~ Andre Previn

Black wizards don't just grow up like toadstools, you know. Someone has to teach them complicated things like summoning demons, ritual magic, and clichéd villain dialogue. ~ Jim Butcher

Why do you call him a monster?"
"Well, an eight-foot tall green gorilla with web feet and bug eyes - what would you call him? A well-developed frog? Not exactly an Ivy-league type, anyway.'"
"I've met plenty of Ivy-leaguers I'd call monsters. ~ Rachel Ingalls

Blue must be worn for protection. Moonstones were useful in connecting with the living, topaz to contact the dead. Copper, sacred to Venus, will call a man to you, and black tourmaline will eliminate jealousy. When it came to love, you must always be careful. If you dropped something belonging to the man you loved into a candle flame, then added pine needles and marigold flowers, he would arrive on your doorstep by morning, so you would do well to be certain you wanted him there. The most basic and reliable love potion was made from anise, rosemary, honey, and cloves boiled for nine hours on the back burner of the old stove. It had always cost $9.99 and was therefore called Love Potion Number Nine, which worked best on the ninth hour of the ninth day of the ninth month. ~ Alice Hoffman

Becoming aware of these habits and understanding the importance of this agreement is the first step. But understanding its importance is not enough. Information or an idea is merely the seed in your mind. What will really make the difference is action. Taking the action over and over again strengthens your will, nurtures the seed, and establishes a solid foundation for the new habit to grow. After many repetitions these new agreements will become second nature, and you will see how the magic of your word transforms you from a black magician into a white magician. A ~ Miguel Ruiz

He kissed me tenderly as my heart thumped out of control. My fingers slipped into his thick, black hair and held tightly. He paused, not wanting to pull away. I didn't let him. I was going to say goodbye properly. I held tightly, pressing my lips to his, soft at first then hard with desire. ~ Leigh Goff

Pierce truly was a black witch. He had tried to kill with magic. It didn't matter if the charm was white, black, or polka dotted with silver sparkles. ~ Kim Harrison

If they were real, then maybe the world was big enough to have magic in it. And if there was magic - even bad magic, and Zach knew it was more likely that there was bad magic than any good kind - then maybe not everyone had to have a story like his father's, a story like the kind all the adults he knew told, one about giving up and growing bitter. ~ Holly Black

Let us see," said Saint Oswald. "A man in black clothes, with powerful magic and ravens at his command, and the hunting rights of a king. This suggests nothing to you? No apparently it does not. Well, it so happens that I think I know the person you mean. He is indeed very arrogant and perhaps the time has come to humble him a little. If I understand you aright, you are angry because he does not speak to you?"
"Yes."
"Well then, I believe I shall loosen his tongue a little."
"What sort of punishment is that?" asked the Charcoal Burner. "I want you to make Blencathra [hill] fall on his head! ~ Susanna Clarke

If we are part of nature, then we are synonymous with it at the metaphysical level, every bit as much as the first all-but-inorganic animalcules that ever formed a chain of themselves in the blow hole of a primordial sea vent. There is no magic rod that comes down three hundred thousand years ago and divides our essence from the material world that produced us. This means that we cannot speak in essential terms of nature - neither of its brutality nor of its beauty - and hope to say anything true, if what we say isn't true of ourselves.

The importance of that proposition becomes clear only when it's reversed: What's true of us is true of nature. If we are conscious, as our species seems to have become, then nature is conscious. Nature became conscious in us, perhaps in order to observe itself. It may be holding us out and turning us around like a crab does its eyeball. Whatever the reason, that thing out there, with the black holes and the nebulae and whatnot, is conscious. One cannot look in the mirror and rationally deny this. It experiences love and desire, or thinks it does. The idea is enough to render the Judeo-Christian cosmos sort of quaint. As far as Rafinesque was concerned, it was just hard science. That part is mysterious. "She lives her life not as men or birds," said Rafinesque, "but as a world. ~ John Jeremiah Sullivan

What he really wanted (and it felt almost shameful to admit it to himself) was someone like - someone like a parent: an adult wizard whose advice he could ask without feeling stupid, someone who cared about him, who had had experience of Dark Magic...
And then the solution came to him. It was so simple, and so obvious, that he couldn't believe it had taken so long - Sirius. ~ J.K. Rowling

I know the difference between black magic and white magic. ~ Tina Turner

Hazel was bigger than life;she always had been. Always trying to protect people--protect the town, protect their parents from having to confront that they'd let a lot of stuff slide, protect him from having to face his own cowardice after he'd quit hunting. While something was attacking the schools and everyone else was panicking, she'd been inside, helping Molly. He remembered how she'd come through those doors with that familiar swagger, the one that said she didn't need magic, didn't need any faerie blessing. Ben told stories. Hazel became those stories. She was brave. ~ Holly Black

Is anyone know about term 'Astrology' and how many you are believe in Horoscope? ~ Vashikaran Prediction

Only stories and magic really endure. ~ Iris Murdoch

Our melanin will always make us marvelous ...
Just imagine what that sea of sisterhood would look like. Magic! ~ Alexandra Elle

The pale pink light of dawn sparkled on branch and leaf and stone. Every blade of grass was carved from emerald, every drip of water turned to diamond. Flowers and mushrooms alike wore coats of glass. Even the mud puddles had a bright brown sheen. Through the shimmering greenery, the black tents of his brothers were encased in a fine glaze of ice. So there is magic beyond the Wall after all. ~ George R R Martin

The buzzer rang. Magnus pressed the button to let him enter, speechless for a moment because he had wanted Alec there, so badly, and here he was. It felt more like magic than anything he could do.
Then Alec was there, standing in the open doorway.
"I wanted to see you," said Alec with devastating simplicity. "Is this okay? I can go away if you're busy or anything."
It must have been raining a little outside. There were sparkling drops of water in Alec's messy black hair. He was wearing a hoodie that Magnus thought he might have found in a Dumpster, and sloppy jeans, and his whole face was lit up just because he was looking at Magnus.
"I think," said Magnus, pulling Alec in by the strings on his awful gray hoodie, "that I could be persuaded to clear my schedule. ~ Cassandra Clare

WORDS HAVE NO EXPIRATION DATE;
YOU CAN EAT THEM WHENEVER YOU WANT.
SO BE SURE TO MAKE EM' YUMMY! ~ Qwana M. BabyGirl Reynolds-Frasier

Black, intelligent, and educated... Now that's POWER. ~ Stephanie Lahart

It had to unleash some invisible magic, he thought; Hades and Persephone, joining together again within these black and holy stone walls, for the first time in millennia. As they indulged in enjoying one another, how could they not be reactivating some power within the Earth itself? Surely they were at least bringing autumn storm clouds rolling and thundering over the Mediterranean.
But probably every boy felt that way when finally in bed caressing the girl he loved. ~ Molly Ringle

Talk about enchantment. Forget about working for something just to have it fall apart on you. Let the magic come. That's what I say. Let the magic come and fill in every inch of that little black crack behind your breastbone. ~ Tim Tharp

Fresh tobacco. Black currants. God, it was so good. She kept it in her mouth for a count of ten before she swallowed. If there was any magic in this world that was not magic, it was wine. She smelled wet hay from a tumbledown field in Tuscany in the early morning, after the sky turned light, but before the sun burned off the dew. ~ Lev Grossman