Faith is a beautiful thing. When you believe in an image; an ideal; a supreme being or figure and you stand in the sunshine and you feel the warmth as it spreads through your body. And with that warmth comes a smile and a knowing that you were right to believe in the first place.That is what having faith is.It's regardless of which religion you belong to, because faith is universal. That is why it is magical and the sooner we put away our differences and start to believe in each other then that is when we truly start to use faith as it was intended to be used.
There is a relationship between the eye contacts we make and the perceptions that we create in our heads, a relationship between the sound of another's voice and the emotions that we feel in our hearts, a relationship between our movements in space all around us and the magnetic pulls we can create between others and ourselves. All of these things (and more) make up the magic of every ordinary day and if we are able to live in this magic, to feel and to dwell in it, we will find ourselves living with magic every day. These are the white spaces in life, the spaces in between the written lines, the cracks in which the sunlight filters into. Some of us swim in the overflowing of the wine glass of life, we stand and blink our eyes in the sunlight reaching unseen places, we know where to find the white spaces, we live in magic.
It's alright" said a dreamy voice from beside Harry as Ron vanished into the coach's dark interior. "You're not going mad or anything. I can see them too.""Can you?" said Harry desperately, turning to Luna. He could see the bat-winged horses reflected in her wide, silvery eyes."Oh yes," said Luna, "I've been able to see them since my first year here. They've always pulled the carriages. Don't worry. You're just as sane as I am."Smiling faintly, she climbed into the musty interior of the carriage after Ron. Not altogether reassured, Harry followed her.
Magic always happens when you direct your inner powers to the object you want to change.
In life, growth is imminent. And, growth without change, is unthinkable. And, to make the unthinkable thinkable, new roads need to be carved out by way of old ones. The old stands tall and firm and befriends the new to fall into place, with refined maturity and greater understanding and cultured admiration. It's simply pure Magic.
There is something magical and transformational about saying “yes” to God. When you take His hand, step out of that boat (your ordinary, comfortable life), and be brave. Instead of spending your lifetime living in fear and playing it safe, you boldly walk in obedience. God makes you brave.
At the end of the day…we are anchoring into the peaceful lagoon, smiling at the majestic sun and its flirting rays, slowly slipping into the glittering ballroom of immense night skies, sipping on the platinum moon liquor under the blues of rippling waves kissing my golden foot hanging over the board of gently rocking boat, and diving into the bed of galaxies whispering magical stories of their eternal lives connecting souls…till the dawn…
If there is ever a magical beauty that can be watched hours with great admiration, and that is the beauty of a strong light falling from the everlasting skies into the heart of the dimness!
The elders say- difficult to prove- that winged creatures also dream. The birds are lovers of heights, always searching out landing spots, never constant here at the foot of the human race. 'It's that they discovered a magical advantage...' they say, 'the sound of silence.'At the foot of the clouds the raindrops come earlier, it's true, and the silence of the sky is something unattainable for those who don't fly- we have never experimented. The dream of the birds was that man of them headed for a land where they experienced a similar magic to that lived by them.In the final analysis, music is the only human sound similar to that of silence.
The Conditioned Mind / shuts off magical vision and gnosis / gives up freedom, truth, real choices / loses sight of love, trust, and social coherence / loses touch with organic life, gives way to interference // risks personal wellbeing, peace of heart, balance of mind / is tricked into believing we need power, money, lies / and people to lead us by the nose into violence and war / is hypnotised, drugged, poisoned, misinformed.
Find joy in the faces of children who view life as so magical. Give thanks every day for your life and for your existence. Your life matters, you matter. So many people think and care about you and you’re never really alone! Remember your loved ones are the real gift. I care about you; you have a friend in me. Look forward to knowing that next year is going to be even better than the last…
Twin flame love is raw, real and rare ~ it comes when we least expect, can't understand nor have the patience to accept it, than its gone & the true test of fate starts to play. A bond built amongst the stars can't be tampered by an earthly experience, trust the distance, twin flames always meet again.
The moon was up now and the trees were dark against it, and he passed the frame houses with their narrow yards, light coming from the shuttered windows; the unpaved alleys, with their double rows of houses; Conch town, where all was starched, well-shuttered, virtue, failure, grit and boiled grunts, under-nourishment, prejudice, righteousness, inter-breeding and the comforts of religion; the open-doored, lighted Cuban boilto houses, shacks whose only romance was their names
The greatest book is one written by your pen, but not exactly from your mind.
Magic. It was worse than feline logic. Leave it to magic to re-fracture and re-herniate his vertebrae in the middle of a battle. A powerful sigh forced itself through the controlled exhale of his Ki breathing, decimating the thin slow line of smoke curling up from the incense. It reformed itself a moment later, right before Bruce’s eyes, and he glared at it with Batman’s most malevolent stare. What a metaphor. A few seconds’ disruption and all was set right again. That was magic’s attitude. No harm done. As if it was as simple as a few seconds’ paralysis.
If Molly had not been so entirely loyal to her friend, she might havethought this constant brilliancy a little tiresome when brought intoevery-day life; it was not the sunshiny rest of a placid lake, it wasrather the glitter of the pieces of a broken mirror, which confusesand bewilders.
See that house with the Ivy on it? From that rooftop, what if you leapt onto the next rooftop, dashed over that blue & green wall, climbed and jumped up the pipe, ran across the roof and jumped to the next? You can, in animation.If you could walk along the cable, you could see the other side. When you look from above, so many things reveal themselves to you. Maybe race along the concrete wall. Suddenly, there in your humdrum town there is a magical movie. Isn’t it fun to see things that way? Feels like you could go somewhere far beyond……maybe you can…
They were laughing and their hair was shining like leaves in moonlight, their limbs long as saplings. I thought, Girls are magical at this phase, girls are invincible, nothing can touch them. I didn’t think ‘us’ because I didn’t feel that; I felt other, on the outside, watching them.
She blames herself. I hurt from knowing that I hurt her. Even when we know all of these other people are to blame. My friends. The media. Not her. Not me.I can’t help myself. I continue the cycle and I say, “I don’t want to hurt you.”Lily is quiet for a moment before she says, “I’m tougher than you think. You just need to believe in me. You know, like a fairy.”I do believe in fairies. I do. I do. The jubilant chorus from Peter Pan fills my ears.I look up at her, tears in both our eyes. Is that how we end this? I trust that I can share my grief with her and that she won’t crumble beneath the pain?She nods to me like go on. I can handle it.
It's a bird of some sort. It's like a duck, only I never saw a duck have so many colors."The bird swam swiftly and gracefully toward the Magic Isle, and as it drew nearer its gorgeously colored plumage astonished them. The feathers were of many hues of glistening greens and blues and purples, and it had a yellow head with a red plume, and pink, white and violet in its tail.
The Glass Cat is one of the most curious creatures in all Oz. It was made by a famous magician named Dr. Pipt before Ozma had forbidden her subjects to work magic. Dr. Pipt had made the Glass Cat to catch mice, but the Cat refused to catch mice and was considered more curious than useful.This astonishing cat was made all of glass and was so clear and transparent that you could see through it as easily as through a window. In the top of its head, however, was a mass of delicate pink balls which looked like jewels but were intended for brains. It had a heart made of a blood-red ruby. The eyes were two large emeralds. But, aside from these colors, all the rest of the animal was of clear glass, and it had a spun-glass tail that was really beautiful.
The storm long past, the night sky was beset with stars. Pointing upward, I asked her to pick a point of light and stay with it. Standing up, I eased Sara to her feet. Whispering into her ear, I asked, “Have you ever stood under a star... and felt the earth move under your feet?” - The Judas Syndrome
In the evening, the tarantella dancers will come to the hotel; perhaps they'll dance and sing in the courtyard that is dripping with wistaria blooms and pungent with citrus perfumes. They wear gay costumes, these who sing and dance for us to keep alive the romance of other days; and they are full of that joy in living which seems the gift of these siren shores.
My goal is to be the most magical person you know. I say that all the time, because it’s an idea that really does shape my daily life. But you might not have met me, or maybe you aren’t familiar with me at all. Still, I know that you have a person who has given you that feeling.
When I was instructed to use medical oxygen to do my job at the W. M. Keck Observatory from 2001 to 2006, I was never told about the legal health information that is now posted on oxygen cylinders. My memories of the green medical oxygen cylinders that we would use daily is that they had no information on them and we were never given a recognised legal oxygen administration training course for routine daily use or a medical prescription from a doctor. We were shown the three oxygen cylinders at the facility and told to use them whenever we developed headaches, which was multiple times daily. It was common to find all three oxygen cylinders in use by other very high altitude workers and to have to line up to get a turn on the magical medical gas.
Silence is a magical sleep where you find the solutions in your dreams!
When I was a kid, Granpa Portman's fantastic stories meant it was possible to live a magical life. Even after I stopped believing them, there was still something magical about my grandfather. To have endured all the horrors he did, to have seen the worst of humanity and to have your life made unrecognised by it, to come out of all that the honorable and good and brave person I knew him to be - THAT was magical.
Now, what would you like for dinner? Steak? Chicken? I, for one…I am thinking…Chinese.”Stunned, Jenera stopped and looked between Nylora and Aleta, “Uh…I don’t think you mean sweet and sour pork, right?”The older handmaiden laughed heartily, “You catch on quick, my lady.” She winked, “Nothing says delicious like a short Chinese man in a darkened alley to whet my appetite.
Do women always take this long?” Darién sprang forward to find out what was keeping his bride, but Maxim, Shara and Serone stepped in front of him, blocking his path.“She’s late!” the prince fumed, his heart pounding, and his breathing ragged. “Maybe she changed her mind,” he said before Maxim snapped a picture of him with a digital camera, blinding him. “What the hell?” Darién shook his head to clear the momentary stun from the flash.Maxim shrugged nonchalantly, his wicked dark eyes glittering with humor, “Aleta put me in charge of photography--something about making a scrapbook…or whatever. Anyway…nothing says good times like a stressed-out groom on the verge of nuclear.” He smiled, wagging his dark brows up and down. “Priceless.
Easy…kelis,” he whispered, sweat beading his brow. “I want to savor this moment. And this…” Darién licked over Jenera’s lips with his tongue, planting small kisses at each corner before trailing over to her ear and he nibbled on her lobe. “I will fire you gently, simmer you sweetly,” he breathed, smiling against her throat. “And burn you completely.
Jenera reached up to hold his face between her hands, staring into the face of the man that changed her world within a few days. “I may not understand every part of your life and race, but I soon will. If you can accept a human for a bride, I can take every part of you. When the time comes, you will take everything.”Darién ached to grab her and bury his mouth into her throat to prove her wrong, but he clenched his fists at his side instead to steady the urge. “Come…we should return to the citadel,” he said gruffly, standing up and striding away.
You haven’t fed for several days. And you refuse to drink from me…so go…and come back soon.”He shook his head, his dark eyes bleak as he gazed upon his wife. “I can’t leave you,” he whispered. “Last time I left you alone…” he couldn’t even finish…totally devastated. He knew he needed to feed, but how could he leave her unprotected?Jenera moved close and took his hands in hers, peering up into his face. “Shall I come with you?” She smiled impishly, threading his hands with hers—palm to palm, relishing their skin-to-skin contact. Would she ever feel enough? Want enough? No…never she realized.He paled and snorted a small laugh, “God no! It’s not something for my wife to witness.”Still smiling, she lifted a brow over her branding tattoo, “Why? Is it gruesome? Carnal? Sexually explicit?”Darién’s mouth dropped open in shock, “Uh…none of the above, kelis. It’s impersonal like eating a hamburger would be for you.
Let me wake up next to you,A cup of coffee together will do.Let’s go out somewhere far,Don’t let anyone know till we’re back.Grab your bike keys & my hand,Let’s wander holding hand in hand.To our secret spot up the hill we go,And we see the sunset & more.Under a magical sky filled with stars,Kiss me good night on my eyes.And we find out you don't have to be happy at all...Cause darling, I'm beside you holding your hand
I think that cars today are almost the exact equivalent of the great Gothic cathedrals; I mean the supreme creation of an era, conceived with passion by unknown artists, and consumed in image if not in usage by a whole population which appropriates them as a purely magical object.
I hope you find your truth and when you do, you stand in the middle of it strong, beautiful and nimble like the World dancer. Because when the Fool followed her own path and trusted herself, she found herself in the World. And by the time she did, she was so high on the music-so enraptured by the dancing, so lost in the beauty, so in tune with herself, and so filled with magic-she didn't even realize she's arrived at her destination.
My mother buys a handful of wishing beans, which just seem to be white, dry beans with no specific magickal import. She will parse these out over the months when she feels her family members most need a wish. She can believe in wishes, since it is the familiar magic of wells, birthdays, and first stars.
The castle of Cair Paravel on its little hill towered up above them; before them were the sands, with rocks and little pools of salt water, and seaweed, and the smell of the sea and long miles of bluish-green waves breaking for ever and ever on the beach. And oh, the cry of the seagulls! Have you ever heard it? Can you remember?
Here, Earth-born, over the lilt of the water,Lisping its music and bearing a burden of light,Bosoming day as a laughing and radiant daughter…Here we may whisper unheard, unafraid of the night.Walking alone…was it splendor, or what, we were bound with?Deep in the time when summer lets down her hair?Shadows we loved and the patterns they covered the ground withTapestries, mystical, faint in the breathless air.