magic

Maybe magic and love, together, can achieve what magic alone cannot.

Her eyes widened, convinced by the size of it that his shaft was fully erect. She blinked several times. No, she was wrong. The bulge moved, growing as she watched it."Not that I mind ya staring, love, but I've got an appointment I must keep.

Time is the only magic, he said, "And Marids swim through time like the sea. Think: if you hurt yourself, and I bandage it, and after weeks and weeks it gets well and there's no scar, that's not magic at all. But if you hurt yourself and I touch you and it heals in a moment, you'd call me magic before your skin closed. It's not magic to cook a feast, roasting and baking and frying for hours, but if you blink and it's steaming in front of you, it's a spell. If you work for what you want and save for it and plan it out just as precisely as you possibly can, it's not even surprising if you get it on the other side of a month or a year. But if you snap your fingers and it happens as soon as you want t, every wizard will want to know you socially. If you life straight through a hundred years and watch yourself unfold at one second per second, one hour per hour, that's just being alive. If you go faster, you're a time traveler. If you jump over your unfolding and see how it all comes out, that's fate. But's all healing and cooking and planning and living, just the same. The only difference is time.

I never saw this coming - the little house was working its magic, connecting me to people and materials I never would have guessed would find their way into the picture.

Please do not say magic like you are discussing a bowel movement... Humanity expects the lights, so they are provided.

Emotions like these didn't happen to regular, everyday people. They couldn't or else the entire world would be fornicating all the time.

Stalked He stalks her waiting for the right time, a single purpose stirring within his mind. His soul longs for that one deep connation, as his body seeks its final redemption. For he is the hunter and she his prey, her power untouched waiting for the moment to be set free on that final day. One sweet tasted form his lips as death he willed her way.

My energies have been drained.Masturbating too much will do that.

Fifteen feet away, the wide River Thames rolled past, dark and deep and mysterious is the sullen-not-quite sunrise.

She knows exactly what I like and what it does to me. She worships my body in its entirety and I allow it__ crave it.

The sun was still out, wouldn__ even start to set for an hour, but the early evening still had that __agic hour_ feeling. The air was warm and breezy. The houses looked sparkling with windows reflecting the still bright sun.

By some tear in the wish fabric, or the casting of a prayer, or the falling of some lonely star, the enchanted garden was not lost to me, but lost in me.

I can't learn everything in a few months, Charles. Magic came first. Stupid hierarchy of egotistical penises had to take a backseat.""Penises don't have egos. And what about the women in command? They can be pretty damn bitchy.""The women have bigger balls than you do, Charles. Let's get focused."Kind of a dick thing to say.

What's wisdom if not the will to learn the lessons, which Nature puts in one's way at every step?

The problem with magic was that it made her feel very alone.

I do know that the gardens of the first lands are still lying there, right under the skin of the world- pulsing the way our heartbeat drums under our own skin. And I believe that there's a connectedness between everything that gives some people a deep and abiding affinity to a certain kind of place or creature.""Like totems?""Maybe. Or maybe something even more personal- something that's impossible to articulate with the vocabulary we have at the moment.""This is too weird."Annie shrugged. "What can I say? It's getting late, the stars are out. Once the sun sets, I tend to embrace whatever wild spirits are running around in the darkness, talking away to each other. I leave the logic of streets and pavement and cars and tall buildings behind and buy into the old magics that they're whispering about. Sometimes those little mysteries and bits of wisdom stick to the bones of my head and I carry them right out into the sunlight again. They're like Jack's stories, true and not true, all at the same time. They don't exactly shape my life, but they certainly colour it." She glanced at him, "I wouldn't like to live in a world where everything's as cut-and-dried as most people think it is

Damn, I would give anything to see that man naked," Charlotte whispered. "How could you only say he was 'all right'?

Art is magic, and art is powerful. Art saves lives- I really believe that. It gives us courage and compassion we might not have on our own.