How To Spell It Quotes & Sayings

Grandma smiled brightly. "How lovely! It seems your whore has arrived."
Jake groaned and covered his face with his hands. There was no way out of it. His grandmother was going to get him shot.
A&E women scorned, here I come.
"Excuse me?" Aileen put her hands on her hips and did a weird head nod at Grandma, and nearly teetered off her high heels. Oh, this wasn't good. Not good at all.
Grandma reached out and patted Aileen's arm. "Sweetheart, I'm the one with hearing aids, not you. I called you a whore. Would you like me to spell it for you, too?" She nudged Jake. "What did you do? Find her at a high school career fair?" And then in a horrifyingly loud voice she began spelling. "W-H-O-R-E. — Rachel Van Dyken

When I was in kindergarten, it took me like three months to learn how to spell my own name. But that's also not saying much considering I'm a terrible speller. — Matt Czuchry

They went forth to battle, but they always fell;
Their eyes were fixed above the sullen shields;
Nobly they fought and bravely, but not well,
And sank heart-wounded by a subtle spell.
They knew not fear that to the foeman yields,
They were not weak, as one who vainly wields
A futile weapon; yet the sad scrolls tell
How on the hard-fought field they always fell.
It was a secret music that they heard,
A sad sweet plea for pity and for peace;
And that which pierced the heart was but a word,
Though the white breast was red-lipped where the sword
Pressed a fierce cruel kiss, to put surcease
On its hot thirst, but drank a hot increase.
Ah, they by some strange troubling doubt were stirred,
And died for hearing what no foeman heard. — Shaemus O'Sheel

Some people blamed his oddities on his dyslexia, which was so severe that one giddy pediatrician called it a gift: While he might never learn how to spell or read better than the average fourth grader, he'd always see things the rest of us couldn't. — Jim Lynch

To you, Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, and Hinduism look very different, but to me they look the same. Many of you would say that something like Buddhism doesn't even belong on the list, since it doesn't link salvation to divine worship, but to me this is just a quibble. Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, and Hinduism all perceive human beings as flawed, wounded creatures in need of salvation, and all rely fundamentally on revelations that spell out how salvation is to be attained, either by departing from this life or rising above it. — Daniel Quinn

County library? Reference desk, please. Hello? Yes, I need a word definition. Well, that's the problem. I don't know how to spell it and I'm not allowed to say it. Could you just rattle off all the swear words you know and I'll stop you when ... Hello? — Bill Watterson

Deep down I know I have to have Baya. I need her to want me too, and I can't figure out why the hell I feel this way after knowing her for less than a few hours. Baya Brighton has cast her spell whether she's aware of it or not, and, now, the only thing left to do is to figure out how the hell to break it.
I don't think I can.
I don't think I want to. — Addison Moore

What do you call that nice, shiny white metal they use to make sidings and airplanes out of? Aluminum, right? Aluminum, pronounced 'uh-LOO-mih-num', right? Anybody knows that! But do you know how the British spell it? 'Aluminium', pronounced 'Al-yoo-MIH-nee-um'. Ever hear anything so ridiculous? The French and Germans spell it 'aluminium', too, but they're foreigners who don't speak Earth-standard. You'd think the British, however, using our language, would be more careful — Isaac Asimov

It's a good thing I stayed in Cincinnati for four years
It took me that long to learn how to spell it. — Rocky Bridges

If Spence had really wanted to bed Miss Nordstrum, he would have said how she'd been in his mind since the moment he arrived in Reederville. He'd have added that her visits to Amanda after the baby's birth had given him hope that she might have come in part to see him.
And he would have ended by assuring her that when he agreed to go riding with her today it hadn't been with the intention of kissing her, but
her beauty had stolen his senses away and he couldn't resist her
charms. He wouldn't have fucked her that afternoon, but sometime within a month, he could've seduced her into bed.
Spence was a master at weaving a spell of words to charm a woman
into doing what he wanted. Hadn't he proven that with Amanda? Amanda, who wouldn't leave his head, day or night.
Amanda, the most colossal mistake of his life. — Bonnie Dee

In a democratic society, there is always a struggle between the machinery of national security and press freedom, and the public's right to know is usually the loser. When our national security czars become, in effect, our media gatekeepers, we lose one of the essential cornerstones of a true democracy - an informed citizenry. Distracted by the manufactured flow of information produced by a news media that has fallen under the spell of its own official sources, and beguiled by militaristic and patriotic Hollywood myth-making, the American public is largely benighted when it comes to understanding the wars and covert violence carried out in our name. Spooked will explain exactly how this process occurs and what happens to journalists who dare to break the rules. The — Nicholas Schou

It couldn't have been Eric. I'm pretty sure he couldn't even find a computer's on switch, let alone write actual emails on a regular basis. It took him forever just to learn how to spell his own name." Eric — Kylie Scott

People flock in, nevertheless, in search of answers to those questions only librarians are considered to be able to answer, such as "Is this the laundry?" "How do you spell surreptitious?" and, on a regular basis, "Do you have a book I remember reading once? It had a red cover and it turned out they were twins. — Terry Pratchett

At this time, all students are to report to the greenhouse."
Scowling, I waved my arm through the spell. It swirled like smoke before dissolving. "Freaking drama queen," I muttered. "How hard would it have been to announce that last night? Or to just do the voice thing? — Rachel Hawkins

People often ask me if I'm working on a book. That's not how I feel. I feel like I work in a book. It's like putting myself under a spell. And this spell, if you will, is so real to me that if I have to leave my work for a few days, I have to work myself back into the spell when I come back. It's almost like hypnosis. — David McCullough

FASTER - don't talk down to the audience, take us for a spin, don't spell everything out for us, we're as smart as you - assume we can keep up; FUNNIER - entertain us, help us see how ridiculous and beautiful life can be, give us a reason to feel better about our flaws; LOUDER - deliver the story in the appropriate size, DON'T be indulgent or keep it to yourself, be generous - you're there to reach US." Barney takes a few gulps of air and beats his fist just once on his chest. "There you go, my dear. It might SOUND simple, but if I know you, you'll spend your life dedicated to getting it right. And that's it, my dear. THAT'S the whole banana. — Lauren Graham

Sadly for you, I think I'm going to live, Simi. You can stop slapping me now. I've already lost enough sense. Can't afford to lose any more brain cells. I really really need my last three before I forget how to spell my name. It's hard enough to pronounce." Nick
"well, poo. Not poo that you'll live, 'cause the Simi would probably miss you if you died, but poo that I'll miss all that good old salty boy meat. Though we needs be fatting you up some to make you really good eats. Hmmm." Simi — Sherrilyn Kenyon

How many men can honestly say a woman has walked their heart?" he asked. "But I can. And if you'll have me, I'd like you to stay there." Tears welled in Ceony's eyes. She didn't blink them away. Emery reached into his pocket and pulled from it a loop of white and violet paper about the width of his fist, made of dozens of tiny, crisscrossing links. Not a spell, just something crafted to be beautiful. From it hung a gold ring that glimmered rose in the sunlight. A diamond carved in the shape of a raindrop sat at its center, flanked on either side by a small emerald. The paper magician slipped the ring off the paper loop and turned it in his hands. Dropping to one knee, he said, "Ceony Maya Twill, will you marry me?" THE — Charlie N. Holmberg

Allow me to spell it out for you," I said calmly. "I am still absolutely terrified of marriage, but I would marry you tonight if it was a way for me to prove how much I believe that you're the guy for me. — Monica Alexander

If falling in love is anything like learning how to spell, I don't want to do it. It takes too long. — Glenn Beck

Hair Growth Want long and luscious hair? We all know how long it can take to grow hair so here is a spell/potion to help quicken up the process. You will need: 1 clove of garlic 1 onion A pair of scissors Directions: On the night of a full moon crush up one garlic clove and one onion until it is of paste like consistency. Cut a small chunk of your hair and cover it in the garlic and onion mixture. Find a willow tree and bury the hair beside it. Each night visualize the moon shining down on the place where you buried your hair. Imagine the piece of hair growing longer and longer. Do the above visualization each night until your hair reaches your desired length. — Black Cat Press

Doughboy," I said. "What is this scroll?"
"A spell lost in time!" he pronounced. "Ancient words of tremendous power!"
"Well?" I demanded. "Does it tell how to defeat Set?"
"Better! The title reads: The Book of Summoning Fruit Bats! — Rick Riordan

The Enchantress put a spell on it so it would age with me- and show me how I would look if I was still human. If I hadn't failed her test. I'm... always reminded of who I could have been."
Belle cocked her head and really looked at the picture. It was painted by a consummate artist; the velvet on the Prince's jacket looked soft and furry enough to touch. But those eyes...
"I'm not so sure it should make you feel bad," she finally said. "The man in that picture looks contemptuous. Self-important."
The Beast looked at her, shocked.
"Well, he does," she said, waving a hand to indicate the Prince's face. "It's supposed to show what you would look like on the outside. But does it show how you really are now, on the inside? — Liz Braswell

Every spell is something special, fit for the moment when it's done." Edmund pushed his bowl across to Tom. "It's not just the words you say, but the way they make you feel, the meaning and the rhythm, the connection you make with them. It's not just the things you think, but how the place and time you're in can change them. — Matthew Jobin

Looking back on that time it seems to me that such rapture over Tarkovsky by an audience most of whom would not have known how to spell his name, and who would under normal circumstances have ignored or even disliked his work, arose from our intense sensory deprivation. We were thirsty for some form of beauty, even in an incomprehensible, overintellectual, abstract film with no subtitles and censored out of recognition. There was a sense of wonder at being in a public place for the first time in years without fear or anger, being in a place with a crowd of strangers that was not a demonstration, a protest rally, a breadline or a public execution. — Azar Nafisi

Maven Gustav, what is that awful noise?" Tobin bellowed, holding his hands over his ears.
"Why, it's my very own creation!" Gustav replied, beaming with pride. "I made this spell to be activated in the event of a castle emergency. In all my tests, it never failed to wake everyone," he noted, proudly.
"Yes, Gustav. It's fantastically loud. Well done. But what is the emergency, and how do we turn the alarm off? — R.S. Mollison-Read

My parents were told by the principal of West Barnstable Elementary School and my teacher that I was a bright boy whose spelling was in the retarded range and whose handwriting was the worst they'd ever seen. I find it embarrassing that I spell so badly. I will do almost anything to avoid being embarrassed, but no effort either on my part or on the part of any teacher has ever dented my utter bafflement when it comes to choosing which letters to put down, how many, and in what order. — Mark Vonnegut

Your faith is admirable, Pelleas. But I know nothing of sorcery. As it is, I have not been able to discover how the spell may be broken or how Merlin may be released from it. — Stephen R. Lawhead

There was on section in First Corinthians 13 that talks about (showing) patience, kindness, politeness, how can I demonstrate forgiveness to my children and more fully enjoy them as they're growing up and vice versa. And so, each of those has a day's journey. There are 40 days that people will go through in applying these biblical principles for their kids. We spell them out in layman's terms so it's really easy to grasp a principle. — Alex Kendrick

I slay dragons at night while you sleep.
I see by the way your face contorts how they exist in your dreams.
Willing a magic sword, I plunge into your deepest nightmares and swing at the beasts with all my might, dodging flames exhaled by monsters that would eat me alive to go on torturing the fair one I love. I see your face relax, eyes still drowsily closed, when the mighty dragon is slain.
It may be that my fingers rub soft circles on your forehead as I imagine my brave fight as a knight reclaiming your dreams. You smile under the spell of my touch, and I am rewarded. And so, my love, as I await the dawn, I stand ready to slay dragons while you sleep. — Richelle E. Goodrich

When you have a different name, people just kind of take the liberty to spell it how they want. — Cristela Alonzo

When one embraces a moment of rapture from the past, either by trying to reclaim it or by refusing to let it go, how can its brightness not tarnish, turn grey with longing and sorrow, until the wild spell of the remembered interlude is lost altogether and the memory of sadness claims its rightful place in the mind? And what is it we expect from the sun-drenched past? There is no formula for re-entry, nothing we can do to enable reconstruction. — Jane Urquhart

Is there some lesson on how to be friends?
I think what it means is that central to living
a life that is good is a life that's forgiving.
We're creatures of contact regardless of whether
we kiss or we wound. Still, we must come together.
Though it may spell destruction, we still ask for more
since it beats staying dry but so lonely on shore.
So we make ourselves open while knowing full well
it's essentially saying please, come pierce my shell. — David Rakoff

Artemis: How long will it take you to prepare the time spell?
N1 chewed his knuckle: About as long as it takes you to take your clothes off.
"Aaarrk," Artemis half choked. — Eoin Colfer

O, how incomprehensible everything was, and actually sad, although it was also beautiful. One knew nothing. One lived and ran about the earth and rode through forests, and certain things looked so challenging and promising and nostalgic: a star in the evening, a blue harebell, a reed-green pond, the eye of a person or a cow. And sometimes it seemed that something never seen yet long desired was about to happen, that a veil would drop from it all; but then it passed, nothing happened, the riddle remained unsolved, the secret spell unbroken, and in the end one grew old and looked cunning . . . or wise . . . and still one knew nothing perhaps, was still waiting and listening. HERMANN HESSE Narcissus and Goldmund — Peter Matthiessen

But old Christmas smiled as he laid this cruel-seeming spell on the out-door world, for he meant to light up the home with new brightness, to deepen all the richness of in-door colour, and give a keener edge of delight to the warm fragrance of food: he meant to prepare a sweet imprisonment that would strengthen the primitive fellowship of kindred,and make the sunshine of familiar human faces as welcome as the hidden day-star. His kindness fell but hardly on the homeless
fell but hardly on the homes where the hearth was not very warm, and where the food had little fragrance, where the human faces had no sunshine in them,but rather the leaden, blank-eyed gaze of unexpectant want. But the fine old season meant well; and if he has not learnt the secret how to bless men impartially, it is because his father Time, with unrelenting purpose, still hides that secret in his own mighty, slow-beating heart. — George Eliot

It was R.E.M. who showed other Eighties bands how to get away with ignoring the rules - they lived in some weird town nobody never heard of, they didn't play power chords, they probably couldn't even spell 'spandex.' All they had was songs. — Rob Sheffield

I know what I want to eat, and I bet it's not on the menu. Regardless of how hot he made her, though, she needed to remind herself he was under a spell, meaning he was off limits no matter how much her body craved him. Big — Eve Langlais

Prison is a severe and terrible punishment; but for me, thanks to Arthur Balfour, this was not so. I was much cheered on my arrival by the warder at the gate, who had to take particulars about me. He asked my religion, and I replied 'agnostic.' He asked how to spell it, and remarked with a sigh: 'Well, there are many religions, but I suppose they all worship the same God.' This remark kept me cheerful for about a week. — Bertrand Russell

Could you try not aiming so much?" he asked me, still standing there. "If you hit him when you aim, it'll just be luck." He was speaking, communicating, and yet not breaking the spell. I then broke it. Quite deliberately. "How can it be luck if I aim?" I said back to him, not loud (despite the italics) but with rather more irritation in my voice than I was actually feeling. He didn't say anything for a moment but simply stood balanced on the curb, looking at me, I knew imperfectly, with love. "Because it will be," he said. "You'll be glad if you hit his marble - Ira's marble - won't you? Won't you be glad? And if you're glad when you hit somebody's marble, then you sort of secretly didn't expect too much to do it. So there'd have to be some luck in it, there'd have to be slightly quite a lot of accident in it. — J.D. Salinger

No matter how clear things might become in the forest of story, there was never a clear-cut solution, as there was in math. The role of a story was, in the broadest terms, to transpose a problem into another form. Depending on the nature and the direction of the problem, a solution might be suggested in the narrative. Tengo would return to the real world with that solution in hand. It was like a piece of paper bearing the indecipherable text of a magic spell. It served no immediate practical purpose, but it contained a possibility. — Haruki Murakami

Take care that you never spell a word wrong. Always before you write a word, consider how it is spelled, and, if you do not remember, turn to a dictionary. It produces great praise to a lady to spell well. to his daughter Martha — Thomas Jefferson

Aunt Mercy put down her tiles, one at a time. I-T-C-H-I-N.
Aunt Grace leaned closer to the board, squinting. "Mercy Lynne, you're cheatin' again! What kinda word is that? Use it in a sentence."
"I'm itchin' ta have some a that white cake."
"That's not how you spell it." At least one of them could spell. Aunt Grace pulled one of the tiles off the board. "There's no T in itchin'." Or not. — Margaret Stohl

As I lay in the darkness with the thong around my wrist, I believed I understood Gnith's spell. The thong was more than long enough, but every time Maara moved, I felt it move with her. It kept me constantly aware of her, and if a person's thoughts are with someone, how can she break away to go with someone else? When I slept, my warriors walked in my dreams, and in my dreams, the thong that bound us was not from wrist to wrist, but from heart to heart. — Catherine M. Wilson

I find it strange how some men simply give up their soul to a woman, and act in obedience to their will. I find it stranger that those same women, are ignorant to the belief that this isn't his real face. Most women don't know what their man looks like when he's not in-love with them. But when that mystical spell is broken, it's like a person seeing the true face of God; only realizing that you simply never understood ... their real self. — Lionel Suggs

How did you do it?" he wanted to know. "Enchanted arrows? Spell of exploding flesh? Rain of fire? No, not that. The worm would be cooked and we would be eating it. Wand of destruction? Oh, a wand of destruction would be a find, fine thing." He turned to me. "Speak up, girl."
I hit him with your skillet. A lot. — Holly Lisle

He was watching me, and he chuckled.
"Do you know how a man tames a wolf?" he asked me.
"No," I said.
"You get some clothing that you've been wearing for a while, and you toss it in with her. In the cage or the cavern where she sleeps. That first one, she rips up, shreds it to nothing. The second one, she just mouths it a bit, gets a taste. Inhales, like you're doing there. The third but of clothing, she starts dragging it around, loving on it, sleeping with it. And then you've got her under your spell. She's got the scent of you, wants to keep it around. She'll follow you everywhere."
"Are you calling me a wolf?" I asked.
"Are you calling me a man?" he said. — Delilah S. Dawson

Sometimes we do get taken by surprise. For example, when the Internet came along, we had it as a fifth or sixth priority. It wasn't like somebody told me about it and I said, "I don't know how to spell that." I said, "Yeah, I've got that on my list, so I'm okay." But there came a point when we realized it was happening faster and was a much deeper phenomenon than had been recognized in our strategy. — Bill Gates

There ya are." Erik grinned at her as he came bounding down the steps two at a time. He stepped around his statue of a sister as if such a thing were normal. Perhaps here it was. He paused, nodding at Malina. "Morning, banshee." He gave a small brotherly laugh and poked his thumb toward her face. "She does kind of look like a banshee with her hair flying around like that and her mouth all open. Yeah, ma froze her good. See how her eyes don't move?" Erik leaned closer to her and grinned as he looked into her mouth. "Ha, Euann put a mint in there. — Michelle M. Pillow

Antananarivo is pronounced Tananarive, and for much of this century has been spelt that way as well. When the French took over Madagascar at the end of the last century (colonised is probably too kind a word for moving in on a country that was doing perfectly well for itself but which the French simply took a fancy to), they were impatient with the curious Malagasy habit of not bothering to pronounce the first and last syllables of place names. They decided, in their rational Gallic way, that if that was how the names were pronounced then they could damn well be spelt that way too. It would be rather as if someone had taken over England and told us that from now on we would be spelling Leicester 'Lester' and liking it. We might be forced to spell it that way, but we wouldn't like it, and neither did the Malagasy. As soon as they managed to divest themselves of French rule, in 1960, they promptly reinstated all the old spellings and just kept the cooking and the bureaucracy. — Douglas Adams

Shhhh," Johnny soothed, sliding his hands up and down her back, nuzzling her hair. "Car thieves don't cry, baby. You gotta toughen up if you're gonna have a future with good old Clyde here."

"I like it when you do that."

"What?"

"Call me baby," Maggie whispered.

"You liked it when I called you Bonnie too," he replied with a smile in his voice. "Why?"

"You used to call me baby all the time. It makes me believe you can love me again."

Johnny wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and lifted her to him, kissing her tear-streaked cheeks before he touched his lips to hers.

"I'm already there Maggie. I fell in love when you begged me to help you escape the cops. I fell in love when we danced to Nat King Cole singing 'Stardust' on a moonlit beach. Hell, I fell in love when you told me how blondes spell farm."

"E-I-E-I-O," Maggie quipped wetly.

Johnny laughed and held her tightly. — Amy Harmon

The Holy Fool is always considered a dummy by the smart, hip people who really know the score. There's a mysterious blight on the land, nothing will grow and no one knows how to break the spell. The Holy Fool sets out to find the cause, right the wrong, save the people. He's told he can't do it, that he's too dumb, too weak, too something, hearing from all quarters, "That's not how we do things here," and "You just don't understand." But he goes ahead anyway. — Ann Medlock

Hey, who are you calling easy?" I say, clearing my throat. "I was just thinking how I haven't had sex in over a year. Is that the mark of a loose woman?"

He looks at me, eyes wide. "God, that is a long time."

"Yep, it is." I nod. "A personal record. Before that my longest dry spell was seven months. Definitely more tolerable, although I don't recommend it."

He whistles. "I'm at six now, and I may have watched all the porn on the entire Internet. My condolences to your vagina."

"My vagina thanks you."

Yeah, that's a thing to say. My vagina wishes she could thank him.

He smiles at me sweetly. "Did it like the wreath I sent? — Stacey Wallace Benefiel

If it please you, the lady's name again? says Reginald. His quill is poised. If God had come to Reginald and not to Moses in the burning bush, he would have asked him how to spell the great I AM so he'd be sure he had it right. — Frederick Buechner

Happiness is not a zero-sum game. It's the only case in which the resources are limitless, and in which the rich can get richer at no expense to anyone else. That day in the park, I found it remarkably easy to own my happiness and celebrate Kate's as well.
It's a strange thing, though, how rare, maybe impossible, it is to have everyone you care about thriving at the same time. For a short spell, life seems certain and stable, until something shifts and redistributes, randomly, unpredictably, and when you look around at the new landscape, you see that it's someone else's turn now. You redirect your attention to focus on the friend in need. You hope - you know - they will do the same for you, when your turn comes. — Amy Poeppel

It's up to us to re-enchant this planet Earth We are the elves and giants we are the shining ones daughters of the Moon and sons of the Sun We are the shapeshifters we are the mysterious light shrouded in mists at the dawn of our time and it's up to us to re-enchant this living planet Earth Up to us to midwife at our own rebirth up to us to send our dead along their ancient pathways to the future up to us to re-enchant this living planet Earth It's up to us to break the spell that steals the colors from the world and leaves it lifeless it was our spell we can break it It's up to us the break the spell that steals the music from the Wind and Rain it is our spell we can break it We will dance the magic dance and our bodies will remember we will sing the magic songs and together we'll remember how to live together how to love each other how to ride the eagle how to call the deer Home - Will Ashe Bacon — Elizabeth Roberts

You have great power inborn in you, and you used that power wrongly, to work a spell over which you had no control, not knowing how that spell affects the balance of light and dark, life and death, good and evil. And you were moved to do this by pride and by hate. Is it any wonder the result was ruin? You summoned a spirit from the dead, but with it came one of the Powers of unlife. Uncalled it came from a place where there are no names. Evil, it wills to work evil through you. The power you had to call it gives it power over you: you are connected. It is the shadow of your arrogance, the shadow of your ignorance, the shadow you cast. Has a shadow a name? — Ursula K. Le Guin

It is an exquisite and beautiful thing in our nature, that, when the heart is touched and softened by some tranquil happiness or affectionate feeling, the memory of the dead comes over it most powerfully and irresistibly. It would seem almost as though our better thoughts and sympathies were charms, in virtue of which the soul is enabled to hold some vague and mysterious intercourse with the spirits of those whom we loved in life. Alas! how often and how long may these patient angels hover around us, watching for the spell which is so soon forgotten! — Charles Dickens

I almost turned around right there. Stupid, yeah, but PTSADS doesn't care how stupid a trigger is. If you need me to spell that out, it's Post-Traumatic Stuffed Animal Death Syndrome. I thought it was pretty funny. Mom and the psychologist did not. The psychologist said I had substituted George for Dad and I actually had post-dad syndrome. I told her George was a fucking bunny. — Leah Raeder

When I went back to look for it again I could never find it. It was as if someone had put some kind of glamour, some kind of spell, on that ground, and I felt as if I was walking in circles around it again and again, never able to see what was in front of my eyes.
That was how I felt about what happened to me when I turned thirteen. I felt as if I was always circling around my own brain trying to understand. — Francesca Lia Block

How many of us are able to distinguish between the odors of noon and midnight, or of winter and summer, or of a windy spell and a still one? If man is so generally less happy in the cities than in the country, it is because all these variations and nuances of sight and smell and sound are less clearly marked and lost in the general monotony of gray walls and cement pavements. — Lin Yutang

Looking out the window, I wondered how many of those kids had parents who were losing it, or parents who were gone, taken off without a forwarding address, or parents who had buried themselves alive, who could argue and chop wood and make asses of themselves without being fully conscious. How many of them believed what they were saying when they blathered on about what college they'd go to and what they'd major in and how much they'd earn and what car they'd buy. They repeated that stuff over and over like an incantation that, if pronounced exactly right, would open the door to the life of their dreams. If they looked at their parents, at their crankiness and their therapy and their prescriptions and their ragged collections of kids, step-kids, half-kids, quarter-kids, and the habits that had started in secret but now owned them, body and soul, then they might curse that spell. — Laurie Halse Anderson

Why does Paul spell it out, calling us to consider the width and breadth and depth and height of Christ's love? He is proposing a way to meditate and inviting us to do it. Let's take up his invitation. How wide is the love of God? Think of Isaiah 1:18: "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow." Scarlet is the color of blood. This was God's way of saying through Isaiah, "Even if you have killed somebody, even if you have blood-guilt, blood on your hands, my love is wide enough to enfold and embrace you. It doesn't matter who you are or what you have done. It doesn't matter if you have killed people. If Jesus Christ died on the cross so that you are saved by grace alone, then my love is infinitely wide. It is wide enough for you. — Timothy Keller

If you live through the initial stage of fame and get past it, and remember thats not who you are. If you live past that, then you have a hope of maybe learning how to spell the word artist. — Patrick Swayze

I do my best work in the bedroom. This is completely my domain. So it should be no big deal that she asked me to wait here. But something about being in Charlotte's bedroom is wigging me out. Mostly because there's nudity transpiring mere feet away. She's taking a shower, and no matter how you slice them, New York apartments are thimble size. Let me spell this out - There is a wet, naked, hot woman in a ten-foot radius. Got it? Okay. Moving on. — Lauren Blakely

You think me foolish to call instruction a torment, but if you had been as much used as myself to hear poor little children first learning their letters and then learning to spell, if you had ever seen how stupid they can be for a whole morning together, and how tired my poor mother is at the end of it, as I am in the habit of seeing almost every day of my life at home, you would allow that to torment and to instruct might sometimes be used as synonymous words. — Jane Austen

You're a spelling bee champ, aren't you, White Fang? How do you spell, 'If I don't learn to speak to my betters with more respect, I'm going to get my face smashed in'?"

Tom laughed, unable to resist. "That one's easy. It's K-A-R-L. — S.J. Kincaid

Norway did not even have a revolution at the time the rest of Europe was busy figuring out human rights and stuff, because we were busy fighting over how to spell it. — Erik Naggum

So is it short for Doreen?" he asked. "What?" "Your name." "No. It's just Door." "How do you spell it?" "D-o-o-r. Like something you walk through to go places." "Oh." He had to say something, so he said: "What kind of a name is Door, then?" And she looked at him with her odd-colored eyes, and she said, "My name." Then she went back to Jane Austen. — Neil Gaiman

What this committee needs, what this media center needs, is a good dose of Jeeves."
"I'm sorry," said Mr. Peabody, a mathematics lecturer who sat hunched at the far end of the table taking the minutes. "How do you spell that?"
"Is it possible," said Arthur, raising both his shoulders and his voice, "that we are working in a university where lecturers are not aware of the identity of one Reginald Jeeves, the gentleman's personal gentleman and the personal gentleman's gentleman? What has happened to cultural literacy, my fellow members of the Advisory Committee for the Media Center? This sort of ignorance is exactly what needs addressing. What I mean, Mr. Peabody, when I say that we need a dose of Jeeves, is that we need quiet and reasoned wisdom that leads to prompt and directed action. — Charlie Lovett

One night last year when my father and I were eating supper at 6.17 p.m., I said to him, "Did you have a favourite?"
"A favourite what?" asked my father.
"A favourite foster mother."
"Yes, I did," said my father. "Her name was Hannah Pederson."
"That is very interesting," I told him, recalling Mrs Leibler's conversational tips, "because 'Hannah' is a kind of word called a palindrome. That means you can spell it the same way whether you start at the beginning or the end. My name is not a palindrome because if you spell it backwards it's E-S-O-R. But it does have a homonym."
My father said, "Don't get started on homonyms, Rose."
So I said, "Did you have any favourite foster brothers or sisters?"
"Yes," said my father after a moment.
"How interesting," I replied. "Did any of their names have homonyms? — Ann M. Martin

It may be true that "expressing ourselves," giving free rein to our "natural" impulses, gives us momentary relief from our inner tensions, but we remain trapped in the endless circle of our usual habits. Such a lax attitude doesn't solve any serious problems, since in being ordinarily oneself, one remains ordinary. As the French philosopher Alain has written, "You don't need to be a sorcerer to cast a spell over yourself by saying 'This is how I am. I can do nothing about it. — Matthieu Ricard

You remember how Jared left his home for a spell, left his aunt and his cousin and came to live with us, just him," said Martha slowly.

"I do, I do remember when he ran away to live in a bar. It was like the adult version of when I ran away to live in my friend's tree house, but Jared lasted longer. — Sarah Rees Brennan

From the time we begin school, if not sooner, we are taught to be blind to our assets and only see our deficits. We are carefully marked on how many we got wrong on a test and, rarely if ever, asked how we know how to spell the ones we got right. By the time we are adults, we are well versed in every one of our limitations, skilled in our incompetence. If we were fish in an aquarium, it would be as if we kept smashing against the glass, and forgot the fact that we were perfectly capable of turning ever so slightly and swimming gracefully in the water all around us. — Dawna Markova

So hologram means
" I finally said.
"It means non-corporeal, yeah. Which sucks seeing as how there are a lot of very corporeal things I'd like to do with you right now. — Rachel Hawkins

What followed were instructions for casting the spell itself and a diagram for laying the components out. Altin didn't like the secrecy thing, but a quick glance at the spell Greater Common Tongue showed that it was forty-three pages long. He didn't think he had that kind of time or expertise, so he decided to stick with the six-page version for now. He realized that getting cuttings of their hair was likely going to be an interesting trick as well. And he needed his quill pen, parchment and pot of ink, which meant he had to go back to the tower. He wondered how they were going to take his making another trip into the waterfall-pot room so soon, but he had little other choice. — John Daulton

You have to be very specific when it comes to magic," A-Through-L said sheepishly. "You must say things as carefully as you can. Magic is like a machine that only does exactly what you tell it to do. So you have to speak to it in a way it can understand. And magic only understands you if you spell it out slowly. And use small words. You didn't tell the card which Prince or how quickly you wanted to go. For all we know this is the shortest path - or it thought you meant our fragrant friend here! Or perhaps the Alleyman is some sort of Prince, too. The word Prince is very open-ended. You can't really trust anything that far down in the alphabet. — Catherynne M Valente

S ... For Stupendous!
T ... For Tiger, ferocity of!
U ... For Underwear, Red!
P ... For Power, Incredible!
E ... For excellent physique!
N ... For ... Um ... Something..Hm, well, I'll come back to that ...
D ... For Determination!
U ... For ... Wait, How do you spell this? Is it "I"?? — Bill Watterson

Maisie was next, and stepped up to vote. She wondered how many hands had trembled already today, holding their pencils over the ballots, with all the little boxes. Did most women take to their new, belated right with aplomb, or did they take their time, marveling over the beauty of it all, the silent speech that would be heard?
Or did they think, like she did, that there was a long queue behind her and she had to get to work.
She wrote a thick X, drew over it twice, and dropped the paper in the ballot box.
That's how you spell a shout. With an X. — Sarah Jane Stratford

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. — N.E. Conneely

The fact was that despite himself, without knowing why or how it had happened and very much against his better judgement, he had fallen hopelessly in love. He had fallen as if into some deep and muddy hole. By nature he was a delicate and sensitive soul. He had had ideals and dreamed of an exquisite and passionate affair. And now he had fallen for this little cricket of a creature. She was as stupid as every other woman and not even pretty to make up for it. Skinny and foul-tempered, she had taken possession of him entirely from tip to toe, body and soul. He had fallen under the omnipotent and mysterious spell of the female. He was overwhelmed by this colossal force of unknown origin, the demon in the flesh capable of hurling the most rational man in the world at the feet of a worthless harlot. There was no way he could explain its fatal and total power. — Guy De Maupassant

The world in which we live today-reflecting in so many way the opposite of our sweetness and love-reminds us how desperately important it is to break the spell that's been cast on the human race and retrieve our shining self. — Marianne Williamson

Don't drink too much."
"When I can spell out your name in shot glasses, I'll stop."
"I'll have to get a shorter name."
"I'll have to forget how to spell it. — Richard Kadrey

I do not know how you have done this to me. I thought that if I returned the help you had given me that I would be free of the inexplicable influence you have over me. But it does not seem to be working, and you say you cannot break the thread."
Mari realized that her mouth had fallen open as she stared at Mage Alain. "Are you serious?"
"What would I be if not serious?"
"You're saying that I put a spell on you that controls your thoughts and actions?"
"Why else am I here?" The Mage asked.
"Because it was the right thing to do!"
"The ... what? I am still uncertain about what right thing means - " the trace of puzzlement had retired to him.
"Listen ... Mage Alain! I don't ... put spells on boys! Or men! Or anybody! I have no idea why you think that you are thinking about me, but I assure you that it has nothing to do with me thinking about you or making you think that you want to think about me! — Jack Campbell

I think the idea of fact-checking, I think the idea that you come up through a system where you know how to cover night cops, and then you go on, and you go on to various beats, including writing obituaries, and you get names right, you know how to spell them, really has some advantages to it. — Juan Williams

How many words grace the pages of this book!
They are supposed to bestir memory. As if words could remember!
For words are miserable mountain climbers and miserable miners of meaning. They do not retrieve the hidden treasures from the heights or dredge them from the depths!
But there is a living commemoration that softly strokes everything worthy of remembering with its caress. And when a red-hot flame leaps forth, poignant and piercing, from such retrospective ash, and you fix your gaze upon it, as if gripped by its magic spell, then...
But how with a shaky hand and coarse writing instrument can one possibly inscribe oneself in such pure remembrance, other than to stain these white unassuming pages? — Franz Kafka

Then why did they need you?" Lily's face is hard and set again. "Why not just send Sirius?"
James gapes at her. "Alone?"
Lily doesn't say anything.
"No," says James. "I mean no, Lil. Don't be ridiculous. Anyway, he can't work a defensive spell if his life depended on it, which it would. You know how he gets when his blood's up, all laughing and insane and hopping about talking nonsense and all of a sudden someone would hit him in the chest with a hex before the possibility even occurred to him. — Jaida Jones

1. Milo There was once a boy named Milo who didn't know what to do with himself - not just sometimes, but always. When he was in school he longed to be out, and when he was out he longed to be in. On the way he thought about coming home, and coming home he thought about going. Wherever he was he wished he were somewhere else, and when he got there he wondered why he'd bothered. Nothing really interested him - least of all the things that should have. "It seems to me that almost everything is a waste of time," he remarked one day as he walked dejectedly home from school. "I can't see the point in learning to solve useless problems, or subtracting turnips from turnips, or knowing where Ethiopia is or how to spell February." And, since no one bothered to explain otherwise, he regarded the process of seeking knowledge as the greatest waste of time of all. — Norton Juster

But she wrote out some extra words on a piece of paper so Rain could practice reading. "Is this a magic spell?" the girl asked her.
"Don't let me get sappy on you, but when you get right down to it, every collection of letters is a magic spell, even if it is a moronic proclamation by the Emperor. Words have their impact, girl. Mind your manners. I may not know how to fly but I know how to read, and that's almost the same thing."
-Out of Oz — Gregory Maguire

Tell me, Sorcerer, is there any spell you have that can take this agony from me? (Talon)
Aye, Celt. I can show you how to bury that pain so deep inside you that it will prick you no more. But be warned that nothing is ever given freely and nothing last forever. One day something will come along to make you feel again, and with it, it will bring the pain of the ages upon you. All you have hidden will come out and it could destroy not only you, but anyone near you. (Acheron) — Sherrilyn Kenyon