witches

The old queen had failed them so miserably... She was such a bitter disappointment. But Ursula was different. There was no one to distract her, no one for her to love. She was alone in the world, alone in her grief, and alone with her pain. No, she wouldn't disappoint them. Unlike the old queen, Ursula would be able to fill her heart with hate.

Love can give you such happiness, then can break the very heart it filled, leaving a hole that can never be fixed or protected by any armour.

This mundus tenebrosus, this shaddowy world of Mankind, is sunk into Night; there is not a Field without its Spirits, nor a City without its Daemons, and the Lunaticks speak Prophesies while the Wise men fall into the Pitte. We are all in the Dark, one with another. And, as the Inke stains the Paper on which it is spilt and slowly spreads to Blot out the Characters, so the Contagion of darkness and malefaction grows apace until all becomes unrecognizable. Thus it was with the Witches who were tryed by Swimming not long before, since once the Prosecution had commenced no Stop could be put to the raving Women who came forward: the number of Afflicted and Accused began to encrease and, upon Examination, more confess'd themselves guilty of Crimes than were suspected of. And so it went, till the Evil revealed was so great that it threatened to bring all into Confusion.And yet in the way of that Philosophie much cryed up in London and elsewhere, there are those like Sir Chris. who speak only of what is Rational and what is Demonstrated, of Propriety and Plainness. Religion Not Mysterious is their Motto, but if they would wish the Godhead to be Reasonable why was it that when Adam heard that Voice in the Garden he was afraid unto Death? The Mysteries must become easy and familiar, it is said, and it has now reached such a Pitch that there are those who wish to bring their mathematicall Calculations into Morality, viz. the Quantity of Publick Good produced by any Agent is a compound Ratio of his Benevolence and Abilities, and such like Excrement. They build Edifices which they call Systems by laying their Foundacions in the Air and, when they think they are come to sollid Ground, the Building disappears and the Architects tumble down from the Clowds. Men that are fixed upon matter, experiment, secondary causes and the like have forgot there is such a thing in the World which they cannot see nor touch nor measure: it is the Praecipice into which they will surely fall.

I tell you, Richard, if you ever get ready to sell your soul, don__ bother to sell it to another human being. It__ bad business to even consider such a thing.

What some people need," said Magrat, to the world in general, "is a bit more heart.""What some people need," said Granny Weatherwax, to the stormy sky, "is a lot more brain."Then she clutched at her hat to stop the wind from blowing i

My whole world started to tilt. I could feel it, sliding ever so slightly off center.

They called her witch because she knew how to heal herself.

Gerbert, by the window, shuddered; his mouth contorted. The witch began to twist faster and faster while her twin was talking to Gisela, mumbling to her, marching old holy words straight through the child__ ear into her skull, where they entered the bloodstream and looked for the enemy. The monk__ fingers twitched in the same rhythm and he found himself falling into a trance. He knew it would be dangerous to witness the witches brewing and dancing but there was an energy in it that he__ missed badly since he__ been asked to educate the young princess. Gerbert didn__ even notice when the hags stopped, tucked the girl in, rubbed the concoction on her lips and left for the unseen place from which they had come. Gisela healed quickly thereafter: The fever fell that same night and she asked for solid food the next morning. She had no memory of what had happened, but when she bounced on one leg across the meadow in the castle yard, she chanted a little melody that had not been heard in church, an odd melody that made Gerbert__ ears prick up because he sensed the uncanny in it.

Under the mystichood ofNameless Bride, we grope in Her Sacred Darkness for plasmatic encounter, the fifth ionized state of matter. Our mundane sight of differentation and separation recedes into the magickal Abyss of Blackness where all is touch. We feel each other as tactile presences whose extended dimension stretches to the stars only to coalesce beyond galactic expanses in the white and worm-holes of Her ever spiraling Gown of Worlds beyond Worlds. Let us feel Her concrescence as we stroke each unique form in the unfathomable dimensions of Her perfect formfulness - ever-changing, ever-new, ever-variable in the rainbow myriads of infinite spasms of delight.

Simple spells were light and fun, like a good joke. This spell was as simple as a symphony and as splendid. After adding the last runes, I swirled power through the old spells ensuring they merged with the new spells. The entire castle of spells flexed with the added power, my sign to retreat and hope it worked. Watching the spells bend and move was captivating. One moment they were crawling over each other looking for structure and the next they'd formed a fortress of magic seeking targets, calling them home...."Jones?""Right behind you." He walked around to my left. "How'd it go?""Good. Really good.""I can tell. You're glowing."I thought he was joking until I glanced at my hand. I had to look like a giant firefly. "Narselfart!" He laughed. "Don't worry about it. It's kinda' cute. Besides, those boys" - he jerked his head to indicate the younger cops - "aren't ever going to forget this power show.

The spell started to brush across my skin, tasting me, telling me what it wanted....Nothing compared to power flowing through you, over you, around you. It was a alluring, sensual as it wound through my hair, cuddled with my skin. It wanted me to swirl the power, to tickle it with light and sound, and it sang to me of spells long lost.

In the ten houses the police had scouted, I hadn't sensed anything more dangerous than a pot that prevents over-boiling.

Michelle: The dreaded elf walked into the dining room seconds after I sat down. What business of his was it if I didn't have a clan? It wasn't often I regretted my upbringing but being questioned about a clan stirred unhappy feelings. I'm a witch, but a witch without a clan. Mom had been expelled from her clan before I was born because she wouldn't say who my father was. The clan elders ruled that he must have been human. Unfortunately for my mom, she wasn't much of a witch and breeding with a human was against clan law. I'm not sure who my dad was, but he wasn't around. I've always thought he was from a clan hers didn't favor because I sure had magic and lots of it.

For years she__ been the Central Gates Precinct__ Witness Retrieval Specialist _ more commonly referred to as a __host Yanker_ by her non-magical colleagues on the force. Being stuck in the basement talking to dead victims would depress the hell out of anyone, if they did it for long enough. Then, six months ago, everything changed.

I don__ know about you, but I__e got plans for next Thursday. And I__ not in the mood to have them ruined by some apocalypse.

Burning the witch Giordano Bruno is one more wound inflicted on Christ__ body.

If you use magic outside the school, we are going to get into more trouble than ever. I__ still not allowed to eat sweets after the last trouble we got into. They will lock us up and there will be no sweets and no adventuring ever again.

Hey, aren__ you that girl from the web?_ the new one asked, bending to suck my earing between his teeth. I pulled my head away. __ou got the wrong girl.__r. Hawaii pulled back to take a better look at me. __o, I think you might be._ To my total bewilderment, he spun me around. __ey! What are you_?___ey, it is you!_ he yelled excitedly, drawing the attention of the crowd. __ey, everyone, it__ Cheeky Galore!