In The Witch S Tent Quotes

At that instant the hag's noisy breathing stopped and with it all other sound. Her eyes opened, showing only whites - milky ovals infinitely eerie in the dark root-tangle of her sharp features and stringy hair. The gray tip of her tongue traveled like a large maggot around her lips. ~ Fritz Leiber

Though it was bright sunshine everyone felt suddenly cold. The only two people present who seemed to be quite at their ease were Aslan and the Witch herself. It was the oddest thing to see those two faces - the golden face and the dead-white face so close together. Not that the Witch looked Aslan exactly in his eyes; Mrs Beaver particularly noticed this. ~ C.S. Lewis

SIMPSONS BLUFFER'S RULE #2
The competent bluffer should always refer to the performers who play The Simpsons as 'the voice talent' never 'actors'.
For extra effect, drop their first names... This implies some tacit familiarity and your bluffee will simply melt before your eyes like the witch in The Wizard of Oz ~ Paul Couch

Funny how it all turns to theological babble the more we try to identify just exactly what we're talking about with this whole law business. No wonder C.S. Lewis wrote a story instead! Sure, he tackled the issue of moral law in Mere Christianity too. But nothing sticks in our imaginations quite so clearly as the sight of the White Witch, her bare arms raised above her head, standing over the willing, innocent, self-sacrificing Lion on the Stone Table. ~ Sarah Arthur

It means that though the Witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still that she did not know. Her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of Time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and darkness before Time began, she would have read there a different incantation. She would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor's stead, the Table would crack and death itself would work backwards. ~ C.S. Lewis

Only five minutes later he noticed a dozen crocuses growing round the foot of an old tree- gold and purple and white. Then came a sound even more delicious than the sound of water. Close beside the path they were following, a bird suddenly chirped from the branch of a tree. It was answered by the chuckle of another bird a little further off. And then, as if that had been a signal, there was chattering and chirruping in every direction, and then a moment of full song, and within five minutes the whole wood was ringing with birds' music, and wherever Edmund's eyes turned he saw birds alighting on branches, or sailing overhead or chasing one another or having their little quarrels or tidying up their feathers with their beaks.
"Faster! Faster!" said the Witch.
There was no trace of the fog now. The sky became bluer and bluer, and now there were white clouds hurrying across it from time to time. In the wide glades there were primroses. A light breeze sprang up which scattered drops of moisture from the swaying branches and carried cool, delicious scents against the faces of the travelers. The trees began to come fully alive. The larches and birches were covered with green, the laburnums with gold. Soon the beech trees had put forth their delicate, transparent leaves. As the travelers walked under them the light also became green. A bee buzzed crossed their path. ~ C.S. Lewis

She sagged against the wall, finding it hard to breathe. It wasn't from fear. Gods, she hadn't been that turned on in years. If that was her punishment, she was going to be lippy a little more often ~ Lia Davis

Vasco bought a bottle of vodka to celebrate and they drank it in the old sailors' graveyard in Mangrove South. This was where the funeral business had first put down its roots. Over the wall, between two warehouses, Jed could just make out the Witch's Fingers, four long talons of sand that lay in the mouth of the river. Rumour had it that, on stormy nights a century ago, they used to reach out, gouge holes in passing ships, and drag them down. Hundreds of wrecks lay buried in that glistening silt. The city's black heart had beaten strongly even then. There was one funeral director, supposedly, who used to put lamps out on the Fingers and lure ships to their doom. ~ Rupert Thomson

In the ancient world individuals have sold themselves as slaves, in order to eat. So in society. Here is a witch-doctor who can save us from the sorcerers - a war-lord who can save us from the barbarians - a Church that can save us from Hell. Give them what they ask, give ourselves to them bound and blindfold, if only they will! Perhaps the terrible bargain will be made again. We cannot blame men for making it. We can hardly wish them not to. Yet we can hardly bear that they should. ~ C.S. Lewis

And so," continued the Witch, "that Human creature is mine. His life is forfeit to me. His blood is my property."
"Come and take it then," said the Bull-with-the-man's-head in a great bellowing voice.
"Fool," said the Witch with a savage smile that was almost a snarl, "do you really think your master can rob me of my rights by mere force? He knows the Deep Magic better than that. He knows that unless I have blood as the Law says, all Narnia will be overturned and perish in fire and water."
"It is very true," said Aslan; "I do not deny it."
"Oh, Aslan!" whispered Susan in the Lion's ear. "Can't we--I mean, you won't, will you? Can't we do something about the Deep Magic? Isn't there something you can work against it?"
"Work against the Emperor's magic?" said Aslan, turning to her with something like a frown on his face. And nobody ever made that suggestion to him again. ~ C.S. Lewis

If ever they remembered their life in this world it was as one remembers a dream. ~ C.S. Lewis

[The witch] would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor's stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backwards. ~ C.S. Lewis

The word WANTED slithered across the top of each image in elegant calligraphy. The drawing of Criminy was spot-on, but the one of me was more than a little imaginative. I looked like an evil seductress, some sort of vampy witch-queen.
I liked it.
I wanted a copy for my wagon. ~ Delilah S. Dawson

I looked up its history, and, surprisingly, it has quite a history. You know how in Europe they make you study a lot of stuff about the old alchemists and all that kind of stuff, to give you an historical grounding.'

'Yes?'

Kemp laughed. 'You haven't got a witch around your place by any chance?'

'Eh!' The exclamation almost burned Marson's lips. He fought hard to hide the tremendousness of that shock.

Kemp laughed again. 'According to 'Die Geschichte der Zauberinnen' by the Austrian, Karl Gloeck, Hydrodendon Barelia is the modem name for the sinister witch's weed of antiquity. I'm not talking about the special witches of our Christian lore, with their childish attributes, but the old tribe of devil's creatures that came out of prehistory, regular full-blooded sea witches. It seems when each successive body gets old, they choose a young woman's body, attune themselves to it by living with the victim, and take possession any time after midnight of the first full moon period following the 21st of June. Witch's weed is supposed to make the entry easier. Gloeck says... why, what's the matter, sir?'

His impulse, his wild and terrible impulse, was to babble the whole story to Kemp. With a gigantic effort, he stopped himself; for Kemp, though he might talk easily of witches, was a scientist to the depths of his soul.

("The Witch") ~ A.E. Van Vogt

It means," said Aslan, "that though the Witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. Her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and the darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation. She would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor's stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backward. And now - ~ C.S. Lewis

How can you love me if you don't even know me?" He lifted my arms around his neck and placed his hands on the small of my back.
"I know you, Jade. You're witty and stubborn, like when you wanted to get rid of me at the bar in San Diego. And you're sweet and caring, like when you talked to my mother at the hospital. And you can drink like a sailor. " He chuckled. "And you hardly ever blush, but when you do it's like the sunshine." Then, he whispered in my ear with a husky voice, "And you make love with your soul."
Peter gave my earlobe a quick nibble. "I couldn't care less about energy. It might have brought us together, but I only care about you. I want to spend the rest of my days with you; no matter if it'll be ten or ten thousand."
Despite myself, I felt my eyes burn from tears I wasn't ready to shed.
Still, I couldn't say it.
"Peter..." I kissed him with all the tenderness I found in my heart and said, "the tub is about to
spill."
"Oh, shit." He jerked away from me, turned the water off and unplugged the tub, then hugged
me again with wet hands. "All we need is time, Jade. You'll see this love is real. ~ Denyse Cohen

Rubbish!" said Aunt Letty, and then, turning to the Witch, "Get out of my house this moment, you shameless hussy, or I'll send for the police." She thought the Witch must be someone out of a circus and she did not approve of bare arms.

"What woman is this?" said Jadis. "Down on your knees, minion, before I blast you."

"No strong language in this house if you please, young woman," said Aunt Letty. ~ C.S. Lewis

Some of the New York Radical Women shortly afterward formed WITCH (Women's International Terrorist Conspiracy from Hell) and its members, dressed as witches, appeared suddenly on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange. A leaflet put out by WITCH in New York said:
WITCH lives and smiles in every woman. She is the free part of each of us, beneath the shy smiles, the acquiescence to absurd male domination, the make-up or flesh-suffocating clothes our sick society demands. There is no "joining" WITCH. If you are a woman and dare to look within yourself, you are a WITCH. You make your own rules. ~ Howard Zinn

In Charn [Jadis] had taken no notice of Polly (till the very end) because Digory was the one she wanted to make use of. Now that she had Uncle Andrew, she took no notice of Digory. I expect most witches are like that. They are not interested in things or people unless they can use them; they are terribly practical. ~ C.S. Lewis

He's not safe, but he's good (referring to Aslan, the Lion, in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe) ~ C.S. Lewis

This was bad grammar of course, but that is how beavers talk when they are excited; I mean, in Narnia
in our world they usually don't talk at all.
- The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe ~ C.S. Lewis

The decline of witch-belief was ... entirely the product of religious skepticism ... The Catholic Church did not reform itself on this matter; it was forced by outside pressure to reform. To be sure, the Protestant churches were no better in this regard; it is simply that they had less time - only two or three centuries - to engage in the torching of witches. After all, John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, stated quite correctly that disbelief in witches meant a disbelief in the Bible. ~ S.T. Joshi

Is This Happiness"

High up in the Hollywood Hills taking violet pills
Writing all of my songs about my cheap thrills
You're a hard man to love and I'm
A hard woman to keep track of
You like to rage, don't do that
You want your way, you make me so mad
Got your gun, I've got my dad

Is this happiness?
Is this happiness?
Is this happiness?
Is this happiness?

High up in the Hollywood Hills crushing violet pills
You've been trying to write a novel about your cheap thrills
You think you're Hunter S. Thompson
I think you're fucking crazy as the day's long
Man to man, heart to heart
I love you but you drive me so far
Wish you well on that star

Is this happiness?
Is this happiness?
Is this happiness?
Is this happiness?

Witch Hazel, Witch Hazel
Betrayal, betrayal
One gun on the table
Headshot if you're able

Is this happiness?
Is this happiness?
Is this happiness?
Is this happiness? ~ Lana Del Rey

Paradox is at the heart of the mysteries of witchcraft. I believe that paradox is what allows the conditions for the witch to create magick. By creating a paradox, we essentially overload the processing of reality by breaking the rules. In a way, we're jamming the system like throwing a wrench into the cogs, where we can then enter in our own codes for when we're done and the system and its processes of reality resume. ~ Mat Auryn

The Lord works in mysterious ways. What's true to one man, a wonder and a marvel, might not seem so to another, as God didn't intend it for him. ~ Katherine Howe

As Harry and Ron rounded the clump of trees behind which Harry had first heard the dragons roar, a witch leapt out from behind them.
It was Rita Skeeter. She was wearing acid-green robes today; the Quick-Quotes Quill in her hand blended perfectly against them.
"Congratulations, Harry!' she said beaming at him. "I wonder if you could give me a quick word? How you felt facing that dragon? How do you feel now about the fairness of the scoring?"
"Yeah, you can have a word," said Harry savagely. "Goodbye! ~ J.K. Rowling

So many people never seemed to think about the consequences of their everyday actions. And then a witch on her broom would have to set out from her bed in the rain in the dead of night because of "I only" and its little friends "I didn't know" and "It's not my fault."
"I only wanted to see if the copper was hot ... "
"I didn't know a boiling pot was dangerous ... "
"It's not my fault
no one told me dogs that bark might also bite."
And her favorite, "I didn't know it would go off bang"
when it said "goes bang" on the box it came in. That had been when little Ted Cooper had put an explosive banger (another tiny clue) into the carcass of a chicken after his mum's birthday party and nearly killed everybody around the table. ~ Terry Pratchett

Ysabel probably shouldn't have giggled as he pulled himself from the pool, water streaming from him in thick rivulets. But really, what did he expect? Groping her while she drove, making her all hot and distracted. The jerk. He should count himself lucky. Most guys would've ended up splattered on the sidewalk. Maybe she didn't hate him after all.
Hair plastered to his skull, dripping like a big sea monster, he glowered at her. "You are an evil witch."
Fluffing her hair she smiled. "Why thank you. I try my best. ~ Eve Langlais

I think she's a witch," Marco says. "And I mean that in the most complimentary manner. ~ Erin Morgenstern

This book is a fairy tale in which I am the prince and the princess. I am the king and the queen. I am my own wicked witch and fairy godmother. This book is a fairy tale in which I'm cursed and blessed by others. But, finally, I am the fair y finding my own magic. ~ Dean Atta

The witch theory of causality, and how it was debunked through science, encapsulates the larger trend in the improvement of humanity through the centuries by the gradual replacement of religious supernaturalism with scientific naturalism. ~ Michael Shermer

Gillie caught Delilah's hand before it struck, and held it firmly in his own. He stared at her for a long time, but said nothing. Then at last he spoke softly, "Don't you hurt her. Not ever. If you ever hurt her I will come back and witch you, old trollop, and you will wish you had never been born." His words were so soft, so measured, and so filled with meaning that a shiver went through the room. ~ Shirley Rousseau Murphy

You are the most powerful tool in your life. Use your energy, your thoughts and your magick wisely! ~ Dacha Avelin

New York City is the most fatally fascinating thing in America. She sits like a great witch at the gate of the country, showing her alluring white face, and hiding her crooked hands and feet under the folds of her wide garments,
constantly enticing thousands from far within, and tempting those who come from across the seas to go no farther. And all these become the victims of her caprice. Some she at once crushes beneath her cruel feet; others she condemns to a fate like that of galley slaves; a few she favors and fondles, riding them high on the bubbles of fortune; then with a sudden breath she blows the bubbles out and laughs mockingly as she watches them fall. ~ James Weldon Johnson

In my opinion, what 'The Evil Dead' is to horror, 'Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters' is to action-fantasy, with these horror elements and a steampunk-y twist. ~ Derek Mears

The words witch and witchcraft, in everyday usage for over a thousand years, have undergone several changes of meaning; and today witchcraft, having reverted to its original connotation of magic and sorcery, does not convey the precise and limited definition it once had during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. If witchcraft had never meant anything more than the craft of "an old, weather-beaten crone..." Europe would not have suffered, for three centuries from 1450 to 1750, the shocking nightmare, the foulest crime and the deepest shame of western civilization, the blackout of everything that homo sapiens, the reasoning man, has ever upheld. This book is about that shame...degradation stifled decency, the filthiest passions masqueraded under the cover of religion, and man's intellect was subverted to condone bestialities that even Swift's Yahoos would blush.

Never were so many wrong, so long... ~ Rossell Hope Robbins

Her father sat her down and spoke to her with great seriousness. "You are not a witch, Katerina. There is magic in the world, and some of it is wholesome, and some of it is not, but it is a thing that is in the blood, and it is not in yours.
"The foolish will always treat you badly, because they think you are not beautiful," he said, and she knew this was true. Plain Kate. She was a plain as a stick and thin as a stick and flat as a stick. Her nose was too long and her brows too strong. Her father kissed her twice, once above each brow. "We cannot help what fools think. But understand, it is your skill with a blade that draws this talk. If you want to give up your carving, you have my blessing."
"I will never give it up," she answered. ~ Erin Bow

Why would we dare call someone a Literary Witch? Because all artists are magicians, and Witches wield a special magic. Witches and women writers alike dwell in creativity, mystery and other worlds. They aren't afraid to be alone in the woods of their imaginations or to live in huts of their own making. They're not afraid of the dark.' * ~ Taisia Kitaiskaia

Am I witch? I don't know. That's what they call me. They say it's because I follow the rhythms of the earth, honor the seasons, dance under the moon and seek the ancient herbal wisdom of our ancestors. "Folk Lore, poppycock, myths," they say as they sneer at the rosemary in my cup, the comfrey brewing on the stove and turmeric stains on my hands. "Western medicine and science have replaced all that nonsense," they say. They make witches out to be evil and then call me a witch because I am seeking the knowledge & ancient wisdom that the world seems hell bent on forgetting. Well, they can call me what they like, but I know I am not evil. This is what I know: I am an intuitive woman who instinctively knows that this sacred earth holds healing that western medicine will never be able to replace. I will be here holding space. I will be their witch. So, here I am- A kitchen witch sipping her Rosemary tea, mixing up her herbal potion, dancing under the moon, and fighting for the knowledge & wisdom of our grandmothers to not be forgotten. ~ Brooke Hampton

Jagged needle, wicked lies
From under the skin, pluck evil eyes.
Destiny change from pain and cold
Now that you pay in blood and soul. ~ Lawren Leo

One more time. I'm - not - yours. And hitting Cade like that was so . . . so wrong! You could have killed him!"
"Do you want me tae?"
She started away. "I'm going to check on him - "
"Then you do want me tae!" He raised her elbow and spun her around, a wild look in his eyes. His shirt was ripped almost free, displaying his sheening chest, still heaving from the battle. "This is a vulnerable time. I have no' claimed you, and the full moon nears. Yet you receive the attentions of another male? Witch, you play with fire!" He swiped the back of his hand over his bleeding temple. "Forget the demon. He knows you're no' his. If he'd truly believed you were, he would have put up more of a fight. He dinna even hit a rage state."
"You didn't change to your werewolf form for me!"
"I dinna want you to see it!" he roared, grasping her upper arms. "Doona ever doubt my desire for you - if I truly was in a contest for the right to have you, I'd have bitten his goddamned throat free, then laid it at your feet in offer!"
Her lips parted. She thought she'd just caught a glimpse of the inner workings of how a Lykae male thought.
And she . . . liked it. ~ Kresley Cole

In the bottoms, reeds grew thick and green in rain-swollen waterways; low, shrubby willows populated a patchwork of sandy islands; and other water-hardy stuff grew in such profusion that only the most wretched fugitives were to be found there. Merely to dwell in such a place was to confess oneself an outlaw or a witch. The valleys and ravines that drained into it were choked with trees, generally too small and mean to be of interest to any, save charcoal burners. The ~ Neal Stephenson

Yet genius of a sort must have existed among women as it must have existed among the working classes. Now and again an Emily Bronte or a Robert Burns blazes out and proves its presence. But certainly it never got itself on paper. When, however, one reads of a witch being ducked, of a woman possessed by devils, of a wise woman selling herbs, or even of a very remarkable man who had a mother, then I think we are on the track of a lost novelist, a suppressed poet, of some mute and inglorious Jane Austen, some Emily Bronte who dashed her brains out on the moor or mopped and mowed about the highways crazed with the torture that her gift had put her to.

[…]any woman born with a great gift in the sixteenth century would certainly have gone crazed, shot herself, or ended her days in some lonely cottage outside the village, half witch, half wizard, feared and mocked at. For it needs little skill in psychology to be sure that a highly gifted girl who had tried to use her gift for poetry would have been so thwarted and hindered by other people, so tortured and pulled asunder by her own contrary instincts, that she must have lost her health and sanity to a certainty. ~ Virginia Woolf

You think of travelers as bold, but our guilty secret is that travel is one of the laziest ways on earth of passing the time. Travel is not merely the business of being bone-idle, but also an elaborate bumming evasion, allowing us to call attention to ourselves with our conspicuous absence while we intrude upon other people's privacy - being actively offensive as fugitive freeloaders. The traveler is the greediest kind of romantic voyeur, and in some well-hidden part of the traveler's personality is an unpickable knot of vanity, presumption, and mythomania bordering on the pathological. This is why a traveler's worst nightmare is not the secret police or the witch doctors or malaria, but rather the prospect of meeting another traveler.

Most writing about travel takes the form of jumping to conclusions, and so most travel books are superfluous, the thinnest, most transparent monologuing. Little better than a license to bore, travel writing is the lowest form of literary self-indulgence: dishonest complaining, creative mendacity, pointless heroics, and chronic posturing, much of it distorted with Munchausen syndrome. ~ Paul Theroux

Miracles do not belong to religions. Miracles belong to the desperate, which is why every religion, every philosophy, and most importantly, every fairy tale always has a moment of salvation, a eureka, an enlightenment. We are all chasing and chasing tails, running and running in circles, until a wolf or the witch or the stepmother jumps out and trips us, and we fall flat, splat, and we lie bare and bleeding and breathless and finally, finally look and see whatever it is---salvation or eureka or enlightenment or a hunter or prince or a glass slipper---in front of us. And that's what miracles are. Not solutions, but catalysts. Not answers, but chances. ~ Amy Zhang

I sha'n't let my prisoners go as easily as all that!' she said. 'Make my hair grow as thick and as black as yours, or else your husbands shall never see daylight again.' 'That is quite simple,' replied the elder sister; 'only you must do as we did - and perhaps you won't like the treatment.' 'If you can bear it, of course I can,' answered the witch. And so the girls told her they had first smeared their heads with pitch and then laid hot stones upon them. 'It is very painful,' said they, 'but there is no other way that we know of. And in order to make sure that all will go right, one of us will hold you down while the other pours on the pitch.' And so they did; and the elder sister let down her hair till it hung over the witch's eyes, so that she might believe it was her own hair growing. Then the other brought a huge stone, and, in short, there was an end of the witch. The sisters were savages who had never seen a missionary. ~ Andrew Lang

I just realized... maybe it's maturity or the wisdom that comes with age, but the witch in Hansel and Gretel -- she's very misunderstood. I mean, the woman builds her dream house and these brats come along and start eating it. ~ Sex & The City

This must be a simply enormous wardrobe! ~ C.S. Lewis

It took me a good thirty minutes to find Cal. That was actually a good thing, because it gave me plenty of time to come up with something to say to him that wasn't just a string of four-letter words.
There are a lot of freaky things witches and warlocks do, obviously, but the arranged marriage thing was one of the grossest. When a witch is thirteen, her parents hook her up with an available warlock, based on things like compatible powers and family alliances. The entire thing is so eighteenth century.
As I stomped across school grounds, all I could see was Cal sitting with my dad in some manly room with leather chairs and dead animals on the wall, chomping on cigars as Dad formally signed me away to him.They probably even high-fived.
Okay,so it's not like either of them are exactly the cigar-and-high-fives type, but still. ~ Rachel Hawkins

Do what feels right to you, in whatever circumstance you find yourself in, even if it seems improbable or even impossible. And have faith. Everything else will follow. ~ Virginia Boecker