Black Magic Woman Quotes

Didn't anyone tell you that size doesn't matter?"
"Yes, but I told him to put his pants back on and go home. ~ Christine Warren

STAY THE COURSE BY FORCE! ~ Qwana M. BabyGirl Reynolds-Frasier

I've yet to see the auld woman believes in witches, nor the young one, neither. It's men think there must be ill-wishes and magic in women, ~ Diana Gabaldon

In your dream you call for Chaplain Charlie. You met the Navy chaplain when you interviewed him for a feature article you were writing. Chaplain Charlie was an amateur magician. With his magic, Chaplain Charlie entertained Marines in sick bays and distributed spiritual tourniquets to men who were still alive, but weaponless. To brutal, godless children Chaplain Charlie spoke about how God is merciful, despite appearances, about how the Ten Commandments lack detail because when you're writing on stone tablets with lightning bolts you've got to be brief, about how the Free World will conquer Communism with aid of God and a few Marines, and about free fish. One day a Vietnamese child booby-trapped Chaplain Charlie's black bag of tricks. Chaplain Charlie reached in and pulled out a bright ball of death... ~ Gustav Hasford

Ink was black, in inkwells and bottles, in the past. It would get all over your fingers because it would run and flow relentlessly. This inevitable messiness was the flip side of writing. I always felt caught between two kinds of black: that of the dirty and dirtying substance and that of the signs that miraculously emerged from it through the magic of wayward fountain pens, which, when dipped too deep in the inkwell, had a strong tendency to cover the paper with what used to be called "inkblots." Oh, the miracle of a clear and possibly elegant sentence emerging from the sticky ink and wending its way between the blots! It is the black of meaning wrung from the black of matter. (…) Isn't the most profound education the one that was afforded me at my childhood elementary school, the one that divides the ink sharply between thought become Letter and drive turned into splotches and blots? How will those who begin with the darkish gray on the palish gray of computer screens manage? Without the slightest inkblot? Won't they think that thought is just another variation of formlessness, that the intellect is just a thin additional coat of gray over the gray of drive, and drive a mere stripping of the gray of the intellect? Everything in the world is the result of a creative and careful dosing of black as it is projected onto the formidable invariability of white. Anyone who hasn't experienced this, and sooner rather than later, will never learn anything. ~ Alain Badiou

The black magic that evil-minded people of all religions practice for their ugly and inhuman motives. The modern world ignores that and even do not believe in it; however, it exists, and it sufficiently works too.

When I was an assistant editor, in an evening newspaper, I edited and published such stories. As a believer, I believe that. However, not that can affect everyone; otherwise, every human would have been under the attack of it.

No one can explain and define black magic and such practices. The scientists today fail to recognize such a phenomenon; therefore, routes are open for black magic to proceeds its practices without hindrances.

One can search online websites, and YouTube; it will realize a large number of the victims of that the evil practice by evil-minded peoples of various societies. The magic, black magic, or evil power exists, and it works too.

Evil power causes, effects, and appears, as diseases and psychological issues since no one can realize, trace, and prove that horror practice; it is the secret and privilege of the evil-minded people that law fails to catch and punish them, for such crime.

I exemplify here, the two events briefly, one a very authentic that I suffered from it and another, a person, who also became a victim of it.

The first, when I landed on the soil of the Netherlands, I thought, I was in the safest place; however, within one year, I faced the incident, which was a ~ Ehsan Sehgal

I had to give it him, to flatter and insult a woman in one propostition took talent. ~ Ilona Andrews

I don't know what it is about "magic happens"-stickers on cars but every time I see one I wanna get out my permanent marker and sneak over and write underneath it "so does cot death". ~ Tim Minchin

She was the kind of elegance
That would never tarnish.
A mixture of lace and mesh,
Like a classic heirloom that begged to be worn.
She was sharp intellect and quick wit.
The type of woman that spoke her mind,
Even if it shook.
(Or even if no one was listening.)
She was beautiful.
But not someone you'd see in magazines,
Her hips were too wide, her hair a mess of wispy tendrils,
(Rather, she was actually very ordinary.)
My, was she stubborn! She'd drive you mad!
(Sometimes, you'd probably call her crazy.)
But mostly, her laughter was a joyful moments.
Like a warm towel fresh from the dryer,
Or finding a twenty-dollar bill in your winter coat.
And that was the true revelation.
That magic does exist,
It ran through her like a wild, fiery current. ~ M.J. Abraham

It was important not to offend against the laws of magic. If a woman left you it was because you did not cast the right spell over her, or else because someone else cast a stronger enchantment than yours, or else because your marriage was cursed in such a way that it cut the ties of love between husband and wife. Why did So-and-so enjoy success in his businesses? Because he visited the right enchanter. There was a thing in the emperor that rebelled against all this flummery, for was it not a kind of infantilization of the self to give up one's power of agency and believe that such power resided outside oneself rather than within? This was also his objection to God, that his existence deprived human beings of the right to form ethical structures by themselves. ~ Salman Rushdie

Calumny... gives [Harry] a spiritual purity in the sense that it scours away any outward show, any wish to live by the impression he makes on others. It gives him a lonely independence, so that he is able to act from his own depth. As he goes on to fulfill "his true destiny", which as far as he knows is his death, he is able to walk, hidden from view, past the woman he loves, without speaking, without looking back. This ability to act alone contrasts him with Voldemort, who needs others. That need is apparent in Voldemort's possession of Quirrell.

Voldemort's shallowness is apparent in the way Pettigrew has to do his work for him and then has to carry him to his rebirthing. Above all, it is in his need to be encircled by Death Eaters. Yet Voldemort is not truly in relationship with any of these people. He is connected to them only by magic, manipulation and threats. To be truly in relation with others, he would need, like Harry, to be capable of acting from his own depth. He would need to be able to act WITHOUT them. Voldemort, who wants to be independent, cannot truly act alone. ... Voldemort lives outwardly, in his domination of others; Harry lives inwardly, in the purity of his own being. ~ Luke Bell

Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack, all dressed in black, black, black. She has a knife, knife, knife, stuck in her back, back, back. She cannot breathe, breathe, breathe. She cannot cry, cry, cry. Thats why she begs, begs, begs. She begs to die, die ,die.. ~ Laurie Faria Stolarz

Miracles, black, white, and grey all over. Like light on a wall, telling a story; like magic. Like cinema itself. ~ Gemma Files

Ah, yes, Yggdrasil, the great tree of the world. It is the mark of the mystic. Usually this role is reserved for a woman for they are the keepers of magic and the dark arts, but once in a great while a man takes up the role. Woman mystics are known as volva, but Oddr prefers to be called an Angel of Death. He says it sounds less feminine. Oddr's mother, an Angel of Death herself, taught her son her craft. But he also has a great thirst for blood and kills savagely, which makes him a great warrior," Harald explained. Abriel ~ C.J. Adrien

She has a fiery soul that cannot be tamed.

She has free spirit that cannot be maimed.

She moves with the wind and flows with the river.

She howls at the moon and smiles at the sun.

Just when you think she is finished, she declares, "I've just begun."

Like wild flowers, she grows where she decides to push through fallow ground.

Like wild fires, she spreads with speed that can't be drowned.

She has mystery in her blood, magic in her touch and regardless of her frame

she can be too much-wild woman.

She is not predictable, controllable nor the people pleasing kind.

That's why she is called wild woman and can never be defined. ~ Mishi McCoy

That old black magic has me in its spell. ~ Johnny Mercer

What is superstition , but misguided, unobjective science? And when it comes down to that, is it to be wondered if people grasp at superstition in this rotten, hate-filled, half-doomed world of today? Lord knows, I'd welcome the blackest of black magic, if it could do anything to stave off the atom bomb. ~ Fritz Leiber

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

I'd pulled my unruly blond hair out of its usual ponytail for the occasion, loaded on some makeup to play up my teal eyes, and poured myself into a little black skirt, short enough to show off my legs while not offending Lafitte's nineteenth-century sensibilities.

It must have worked, because the pirate was giving me that head-to-toe appraisal guys do on instinct, like they're assessing a juicy slab of beef and deciding whether they want it rare, medium, or well-done. "You really are lovely, Drusilla." The timbre of Lafitte's voice shivered down my spine, and I fought the urge to check out the biceps underneath that linen shirt.

Holy crap. This was just wrong. I should not be absorbing his lust. ~ Suzanne Johnson

I was trying to do you a favor, you silly woman. A few more hours in the fire, and your baby boy would have been immortal! He would've grown into a fine young god and brought you eternal honor. Now you've ruined the magic. He will simply be human - a great hero, yes, strong and tall, but doomed to a mortal life. He will only be Demophoon, when he could have been Fully Phoon! Phoon the Great! ~ Rick Riordan

Well, let's just suppose for the sake of argument that I decided to take Holly travelling to some ancient Indian burial ground in the middle of the desert. I've considered it, from time to time… anyway, he would be using the Black Arts to invoke fallen spirits, spirits that would generally be unwilling, uncooperative… so, there would be an explicit contest of wills. Holly would have to heap conjuration upon conjuration, precisely because spirits and demons are often reluctant to be summoned, and if they were summoned, they would do everything in their power to escape Holly's control, threaten him and deceive him. To gain the upper hand in the game, Holly would have to wield a horrible amount of power… which he does indeed have, and it would be quite spectacular to watch, no doubt. Thousands of ghouls and skeletons rising up from the ground, rushing forth against the wind on deceased white horses towards the crashing waves of the sea, and considering that Holly has more in common with demons himself than he will ever care to admit, he probably wouldn't be able to stop once he started. We would have radical weather patterns and rising sea levels on our hands for days, perhaps even weeks… if he ever tried it, it would probably kill him, but hell's bells, it would be a really captivating show to see! ~ Rebecca McNutt

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

HOLDING ONTO HOPE
MAY MAKE YOU TIRED BUT IF YOU LET GO OF HOPE, THE FALL CAN SPIRITUALLY KILL YOU!
HOLD ON ~ Qwana M. BabyGirl Reynolds-Frasier

Through portico of my elegant house you stalk
With your wild furies, disturbing garlands of fruit
And the fabulous lutes and peacocks, rending the net
Of all decorum which holds the whirlwind back.
Now, rich order of walls is fallen; rooks croak
Above the appalling ruin; in bleak light
Of your stormy eye, magic takes flight
Like a daunted witch,
quitting castle when real days break.


Fractured pillars frame prospects of rock;
While you stand heroic in coat and tie, I sit
Composed in Grecian tunic and psyche-knot,
Rooted to your black look, the play turned tragic:
Which such blight wrought on our bankrupt estate,
What ceremony of words can patch the havoc?



"Conversation Among the Ruins ~ Sylvia Plath

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

Creativity is alive
And thriving in my body.
The energy you bring out in me
Is within me infinitely.
My power is overflowing.
My lips are soft and welcoming
To the exhale,
The new Braille,
The silence that persists
After our moans die away,
I look at myself and say,
"Root down so you can burn.
Beautiful girl, it's your turn
To create magic within yourself.
This time, without his help.
Find your roots and find your fire,
Be mindful of what you desire,
Persist in what you know is true,
Stay focused on the endless route
Toward your own potential.
Allow the existential
Void to swallow you whole.
Take on your old role:
The lone seeker.
Become quieter.
Become meeker.
Become the beauty that you seek.
Embody strength if you feel weak.
Find love within the walls
Of this sacred temple.
Let yourself shake and tremble,
But keep your eyes ever fixed
On the horizon
Where it's rising,
No revising,
Fears capsizing
As you sail, sail, sail
Toward the wail
Of your siren spirit
Beckoning you to bloom
The flower in your womb,
The seed of creativity,
Your triumphant legacy."
These words, I will carry
Within me as I bury
Grains of wisdom
In the whispers of the wind.
And when I arrive
To the altar of our origin,
I'll be dressed in white and black,
A ~ Vironika Tugaleva

D'you know what that - (he called Snape something that made Hermoine say "Ron!")" - is making me do? I've got to scrub out the bedpans in the hospital wing. Without magic!" He was breathing deeply, his fists clenched.
"Why couldn't Black have hidden in Snape's office, eh? He could have finished him off for us! ~ J.K. Rowling

It had been so many years since Charlotte had experienced the sensation of being held in someone's arms. But tonight, between the music and the moon and the unaccountable black magic of the Southern air, she was embraced in the spirit of everything that was good in this world. And she felt free. ~ Robin Schwarz

The world is not supposed to figure me out, just look to my art, my words, my magic and let it enhance the search within yourself, to figure your damn self out instead. ~ Nikki Rowe

How is it the seasons change? Do they change so slowly so creepingly because we so rarely break away from whatever it was that we were dreaming to notice? What the season brings us to suffer (because seasons, no matter how lovely, will bring us to suffer) it brings when we are not looking. I know the look of a cracked landscape, winter in black and white, flat and finite with a sunset on the horizon like a red heartbeat suffering there. It will take me longer each morning now to go out and face it, the leaves shivering then falling about as if to remind that somehow despite leavings, there is some magic, some beauty there. I don't want it: the mountain view, the shimmer of summer rain, a troutfilled creek. How is it that I came to be here this way with the wind a suggestion that it was, indubitably was, autumn (already and again)? ~ Jenny Boully

When the plague struck Chicago, the townspeople here erected the gargoyles, and nary a soul was lost to the Black Death."
"The bubonic plague predates Chicago by about five hundred years."
He lowered himself to the bench. "I know. I was very disappointed when I found out. Almost as bad as when I learned there were no fairies. The world is much more interesting with goblins and plagues."
"Unless you catch the plague. ~ Kelley Armstrong

NEVER BE SO BUSY BEING THE LIGHT FOR OTHERS THAT YOU NEGLECT TO SHINE ON YOURSELF ~ Qwana M. BabyGirl Reynolds-Frasier

breath,
life after seven decades plus three years
is a lot of breathing. seventy three years on this
earth is a lot of taking in and giving out, is a
life of coming from somewhere and for many a bunch
of going nowhere.

how do we celebrate a poet who has created
music with words for over fifty years, who has
showered magic on her people, who has redefined
poetry into a black world exactness
thereby giving the universe an insight into
darkroads?

just say she interprets beauty and wants to
give life, say she is patient with phoniness
and doesn't mind people calling her gwen or sister.
say she sees the genius in our children, is visionary
about possibilities, sees as clearly as ray charles and
stevie wonder, hears like determined elephants looking
for food. say that her touch is fine wood, her memory
is like an african roadmap detailing adventure and
clarity, yet returning to chicago's south evans
to record the journey. say her voice is majestic
and magnetic as she speaks in poetry, rhythms, song
and spirited trumpets, say she is dark skinned,
melanin rich, small-boned, hurricane-willed,
with a mind like a tornado redefining the landscape.

life after seven decades plus three years
is a lot of breathing.
gwendolyn, gwen, sister g has
not disappointed our expectations.
in the middle
Haki R. Madhubuti

Seven years apart," he continues, "and the woman you became was a world away from the girl I met". He tilts my head so that he can look me in the eye. "That only made me want you more. You were both old and new, familiar and exotic, within reach and forbidden. And I wanted you so badly for so long I was sure it would kill me.
"And when I look at you - especially now - I see one simple truth."
He stops speaking.
I sit up a little. "What was the truth?"
In the darkness, I can see him staring back down at me. "You are magic, love. ~ Laura Thalassa

On Halloween, Wendell, Floyd, and Mona were walking home from school when a black cat crossed their path.
"Don't pet it, Floyd!" cried Wendell. "Don't you know that black cats are bad luck?"
"That's just an old wives' tale," Mona said. "Besides, what could happen?"
Wendell merely shook his head. "Anything can happen on Halloween."
In fact, something did happen as soon as they got home. First, Wendell discovered that his mad scientist costume had turned pink in the wash.
This is definitely a bad sign, he thought.
Then Floyd found out that he had to take his sister, Alice, trick-or-treating with him. "Pirates don't have little sisters," he complained.
Worst of all, Mona's mother insisted that she go out dressed as a fairy princess. "I look ridiculous," Mona protested.
"Nonsense," said her mother, and handed her a magic wand.
They all felt gloomy that evening as they set out trick-or-treating and hoped that no one they knew would see them. ~ Mark Teague

In fact, meta- and particle physicists have more in common than one might suppose: both tug, if in slightly different directions, at the knots which hold the cosmos together, both look beyond the immediate world of sense perception into one where cause can only be deduced from effect - a quark is as invisible as an angel; both are confronted by Manichaean polarities - miracles and black magic, cheap energy versus total destruction. ~ Tim Mackintosh-Smith

IF THEY DON'T INVITE YOU TO THE PARTY TODAY; STRIVE TO BE THE REASON THEY "TRY" TO CELEBRATE WITH YOU TOMORROW!

#HOPENATION ~ Qwana M. BabyGirl Reynolds-Frasier

When a woman is frustrated, and it's your wife, you as the husband get that frustration. ~ Magic Johnson

None can use black magic without straining the soul to the uttermost - and staining it into the bargain. None can inflict suffering without enduring the same. None can send death by spells and sorcery without walking on the brink of death's own abyss, aye, and dripping his own blood into it. The forces black magic evokes are like two-edged poisoned swords with grips studded with scorpion stings. Only a strong man, leather-handed, in whom hate and evil are very powerful, can wield them, and he only for a space. ~ Fritz Leiber

Her arms reached up to wrap around his neck, holding on as if she would never let go. She kissed him back with an ardor that astonished, gratified, and aroused him all at once, and for a moment, he lost himself in the kiss, and in the woman, thinking to himself, now this, this is magic. ~ Deborah Blake

You undress a woman in the same way that you would open a magic box sealed by an angel's kiss. ~ Chloe Thurlow

My lack of faith in God is not a dilapidated house.
It does not need to be razed to the ground or burned down to cinders.
I refuse to be the wounded woman on a cross
that you crucify with your disapproval like nails;
I will only be the woman who believes in thunderstorms
the same way lightning loves the tops of trees it strikes
every time it gets tired of being pent up in an unforgiving sky,
the only difference is that I believe these are natural weather phenomenons,
not God's belly rumbling or synapses firing.
When my doorway is filled with groups of people
wielding religious conversion pamphlets like crossbows,
I will be the martyr who steps aside to let the arrows
crack through the plaster in my wall instead of piercing my chest.
This is not a eulogy to the believer I could have been.
This is a battle cry to the believer I always have been,
believer in sunsets like splashes of paint, handholding
like willow branches brushing one another, new mornings
after old nights spent drowning in despair, believer
in love as an entire language instead of a single word.
Just because my beliefs align themselves on a different spectrum
does not mean they are the wrong wavelength or color.
And even though I think the universe was created by the Big Bang
instead of a God with magic dust shooting from his fingertips,
my universe does not contain fewer stars. ~ Meggie Royer

The most beautiful thing is that despite the shallow life we sometimes succumb to - the soul has no timeline and it knows what it wants and will yearn within until it seeks the journey ~ Malebo Sephodi

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

Why, all the greatest magic comes down to blood," said Mak Genggang. "And who knows blood better than a woman? ~ Zen Cho

Excuse me," someone said, interrupting a lively discussion about whom they'd each buy a drink for in the cantina.

The whole line looked up. There were two women standing on the sidewalk with bakery boxes. One of them cleared her throat. "We heard that people were camping out for Star Wars . . ."

"That's us!" Troy said, only slightly less enthusiastically than he'd said it yesterday.

"Where's everybody else?" she asked. "Are they around the back? Do you do this in shifts?"

"It's just us," Elena said.

"We're the Cupcake Gals," the other woman said. "We thought we'd bring Star Wars cupcakes? For the line?"

"Great!" Troy said.

The Cupcake Gals held on tight to their boxes.

"It's just . . ." the first woman said, "we were going to take a photo of the whole line, and post it on Instagram . . ."

"I can help you there!" Elena said. Those cupcakes were not going to just walk away. Not on Elena's watch.

Elena took a selfie of their line, the Cupcake Gals and a theater employee all holding Star Wars cupcakes - it looked like a snapshot from a crowd - and promised to post it across all her channels. The lighting was perfect. Magic hour, no filter necessary. #CupcakeGals #TheForceACAKEns #SalaciousCrumbs

The Gals were completely satisfied and left both boxes of cupcakes.

"This is the first time I've been happy that there were only three of us," Elena said, h ~ Rainbow Rowell