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Wicca Quotes
Quotes tagged as "wicca"
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“You don’t have to wander around in silk robes burning sage with crystals tied to your head to find the power within.”
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
“In a society of painkillers, people seem to forget that pain has a purpose. It is there to tell us when we’re ailing so we can pinpoint the issue and potentially alleviate it.”
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
“I push my eye farther into the crack, smushing my cheek. The door rattles.
Her arm freezes. The needle stops. Instantly, her shadow fills the room, a mountain on the wall.
“Leidah?”
I hold my breath. No hiding in the wood-box this time. Before I even have time to pull my eye away, the door opens. My mother's face, like the moon in the dark hallway. She squints and takes a step toward me. “Lei-lee?”
I want to tell her I’ve had a nightmare about the Sisters, that I can’t sleep with all this whispering and worrying from her—and what are you sewing in the dark, Mamma? I try to move my lips, but I have no mouth. My tongue is gone; my nose is gone. I don’t have a face anymore.
It has happened again.
I am lying on my back, flatter than bread. My mother’s bare feet slap against my skin, across my belly, my chest. She digs her heel in, at my throat that isn’t there. I can see her head turning toward her bedroom. Snores crawl under the closed door. The door to my room is open, but she can’t see my bed from where she stands, can’t see that my bed is empty. She nods to herself: everything as it should be. Her foot grinds into my chin. The door to the sewing room closes behind her.
I struggle to sit up. I wiggle my hips and jiggle my legs. It is no use. I am stuck, pressed flat into the grain of wood under me.
But it’s not under me. It is me.
I have become the floor.
I know it’s true, even as I tell myself I am dreaming, that I am still in bed under the covers. My blood whirls inside the wood knots, spinning and rushing, sucking me down and down. The nicks of boot prints stomp and kick at my bones, like a bruise. I feel the clunk of one board to the next, like bumps of a wheel over stone. And then I am all of it, every knot, grain, and sliver, running down the hall, whooshing like a river, ever so fast, over the edge and down a waterfall, rushing from room to room. I pour myself under and over and through, feeling objects brush against me as I pass by. Bookshelves, bedposts, Pappa’s slippers, a fallen dressing gown, the stubby ends of an old chair. A mouse hiding inside a hole in the wall. Mor’s needle bobbing up and down.
How is this possible?
I am so wide, I can see both Mor and Far at the same time, even though they are in different rooms, one wide awake, the other fast asleep. I feel my father’s breath easily, sinking through the bed into me, while Mor’s breath fights against me, against the floor. In and out, each breath swimming away, away, at the speed of her needle, up up up in out in out outoutout—let me out, get me out, I want out.
That’s what Mamma is thinking, and I hear it, loud and clear. I strain my ears against the wood to get back into my own body. Nothing happens. I try again, but this time push hard with my arms that aren’t there. Nothing at all. I stop and sink, letting go, giving myself into the floor.
Seven, soon to be eight… it’s time, time’s up, time to go.
The needle is singing, as sure as stitches on a seam. I am inside the thread, inside her head. Mamma is ticking—onetwothreefourfivesix—
Seven. Seven what? And why is it time to go?
Don’t leave me, Mamma. I beg her feet, her knees, her hips, her chest, her heart, my begging spreading like a big squid into the very skin of her.
It’s then that I feel it.
Something is happening to Mamma. Something neither Pappa nor I have noticed.
She is becoming dust.
She is drier than the wood I have become.
- Becoming Leidah
Quoted by copying text from the epub version using BlueFire e-reader.”
― Becoming Leidah
Her arm freezes. The needle stops. Instantly, her shadow fills the room, a mountain on the wall.
“Leidah?”
I hold my breath. No hiding in the wood-box this time. Before I even have time to pull my eye away, the door opens. My mother's face, like the moon in the dark hallway. She squints and takes a step toward me. “Lei-lee?”
I want to tell her I’ve had a nightmare about the Sisters, that I can’t sleep with all this whispering and worrying from her—and what are you sewing in the dark, Mamma? I try to move my lips, but I have no mouth. My tongue is gone; my nose is gone. I don’t have a face anymore.
It has happened again.
I am lying on my back, flatter than bread. My mother’s bare feet slap against my skin, across my belly, my chest. She digs her heel in, at my throat that isn’t there. I can see her head turning toward her bedroom. Snores crawl under the closed door. The door to my room is open, but she can’t see my bed from where she stands, can’t see that my bed is empty. She nods to herself: everything as it should be. Her foot grinds into my chin. The door to the sewing room closes behind her.
I struggle to sit up. I wiggle my hips and jiggle my legs. It is no use. I am stuck, pressed flat into the grain of wood under me.
But it’s not under me. It is me.
I have become the floor.
I know it’s true, even as I tell myself I am dreaming, that I am still in bed under the covers. My blood whirls inside the wood knots, spinning and rushing, sucking me down and down. The nicks of boot prints stomp and kick at my bones, like a bruise. I feel the clunk of one board to the next, like bumps of a wheel over stone. And then I am all of it, every knot, grain, and sliver, running down the hall, whooshing like a river, ever so fast, over the edge and down a waterfall, rushing from room to room. I pour myself under and over and through, feeling objects brush against me as I pass by. Bookshelves, bedposts, Pappa’s slippers, a fallen dressing gown, the stubby ends of an old chair. A mouse hiding inside a hole in the wall. Mor’s needle bobbing up and down.
How is this possible?
I am so wide, I can see both Mor and Far at the same time, even though they are in different rooms, one wide awake, the other fast asleep. I feel my father’s breath easily, sinking through the bed into me, while Mor’s breath fights against me, against the floor. In and out, each breath swimming away, away, at the speed of her needle, up up up in out in out outoutout—let me out, get me out, I want out.
That’s what Mamma is thinking, and I hear it, loud and clear. I strain my ears against the wood to get back into my own body. Nothing happens. I try again, but this time push hard with my arms that aren’t there. Nothing at all. I stop and sink, letting go, giving myself into the floor.
Seven, soon to be eight… it’s time, time’s up, time to go.
The needle is singing, as sure as stitches on a seam. I am inside the thread, inside her head. Mamma is ticking—onetwothreefourfivesix—
Seven. Seven what? And why is it time to go?
Don’t leave me, Mamma. I beg her feet, her knees, her hips, her chest, her heart, my begging spreading like a big squid into the very skin of her.
It’s then that I feel it.
Something is happening to Mamma. Something neither Pappa nor I have noticed.
She is becoming dust.
She is drier than the wood I have become.
- Becoming Leidah
Quoted by copying text from the epub version using BlueFire e-reader.”
― Becoming Leidah
“Death comes for everyone. It’s a natural part of life. We’re all on loan.”
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
“Magic is not a cure for troubles. It is a spiritual map. Your energies are the compass. Meditation will not fix a person; it empowers individuals to find what they need to repair themselves.”
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
“It’s amazing how something so simple can take hold of you and root itself into your character, help you draw from it for years.”
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
“Yule is when the dark half of the year cedes to the light half. Known as Solstice Night, Awaiting the rebirth of the Sun God. Bonfires, wassailing crops with toasts of spiced cider a time of madness and awesomeness”
―
―
“The practice of magic is not evil or destructive–-Witches and folk magicians, through timeless rituals, are only drawing upon natural energies found within the earth and our bodies to create positive, life-affirming change.”
― The Truth About Witchcraft Today
― The Truth About Witchcraft Today
“Love is a springtime plant that perfumes everything with its essence, even the ruins to which it clings.”
―
―
“No matter how lightly a person steps, they cannot avoid some tragedies.”
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
“To be wholly self-aware one must give in to the unknown.”
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
“In dreams we accept truth much quicker than in the waking world.”
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
“The Golden Rule applies to everyone, not just the living.”
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
“Knowledge may be power but how one utilizes it is the generator.”
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
“if you live a happy full life and spread love and kindness wherever you go, the naysayers will get drowned out by your light.”
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
“A house is not defined by how many rooms or stories it has. I always judge a place by what kind of energies it gives off.”
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
“Everyone’s journey is their own. It would never be right of me to tell others what methods work best for them.”
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
“Visualization is the main ingredient of magic, inner peace: power.”
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
“I have always allowed the wind to blow me in the right direction.”
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
― Walk Your Path: A Magical Awakening
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