Quotes & Sayings About Magic Once Upon A Time

I was thinking that being a demon and a ghost must be very difficult, even for Charles; if he ever forgot, or let his disguise drop for a minute, he would be recognized at once and driven away; he must be extremely careful to use the same voice every time, and present the same face and the same manner without a slip; he must be constantly on guard against betraying himself. I wondered if he would turn back to his true self when he was dead. — Shirley Jackson

You see, a witch has to have a familiar, some little animal like a cat or a toad. He helps her somehow. When the witch dies the familiar is suppose to die too, but sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes, if it's absorbed enough magic, it lives on. Maybe this toad found its way south from Salem, from the days when Cotton Mather was hanging witches. Or maybe Lafitte had a Creole girl who called on the Black Man in the pirate-haven of Barataria. The Gulf is full of ghosts and memories, and one of those ghosts might very well be that of a woman with warlock blood who'd come from Europe a long time ago, and died on the new continent.
And possibly her familiar didn't know the way home. There's not much room for magic in America now, but once there was room.
("Before I Wake ... ") — Henry Kuttner

Every time people give me presents, it just makes trouble."
He thought of his Naming Day party, and the gift from his Uncle Alfrin that had actually started all this. "Especially if it's books. Someone gave me a book as a present once."
"Then you'll know exactly what to do with these. Come on. Don't be shy. You'll hurt my feelings. — Mercedes Lackey

The words dripped on my consciousness, sank into my being, and carried me away to the magic long ago of once upon a time. — Peter Abrahams

Michael Harris opens the doors and gently guides you into a magic world. Once inside, you can't help but feel mesmerized, eager to see how deep the rabbit hole goes. And no wonder: a major thinker of our time is talking to you about math and so much more, like you've never heard before. — Edward Frenkel

All we get are moments, Cole. One at a time, like heartbeats. Once all of them is gone, that's it. No do-overs. No repeats. Every moment possesses its down kind of magic and what we do with it counts. It counts. — Autumn Doughton

Once upon a time, forests were repositories of magic for the human race. — John Burnside

Nicholas says that magic isn't inherently good or bad, it's what people do with it that makes it that way. It took me a long time to understand that. Once I did, I realized it isn't magic that separates us from them, or you from me. It's misunderstanding. — Virginia Boecker

There is a moment between waking and sleeping and between sleeping and waking when the mind seems to be in many places at once, when memories mingle with dreams, when what has been and what is yet to be exist side by side, and when the mind slips free of time and personality to wander in strange halls where the familiar and the strange become indistinguishable and ghosts and visions walk hand in hand. Aelis tumbled toward sleep and fell into this place, to the mind's borderlands, where magic is. — M.D. Lachlan

Ophelia,' said the boy. He said it very quietly. She didn't like the way he said that at all. He sounded sad and as though he expected more from her.
'And how do you know my name anyways?' she said. 'I never told you it, not once.'
'I heard it once, a long time ago.'
He was full of mysterious sentences like that. — Karen Foxlee

It's a little-known fact, but parents are like superheroes. With just a few magic words they can make you feel ten feet tall and bulletproof, they can slay the dragons of doubt and worry, they can make problems disappear. But of course, they can only do this as long as you're a child. When you've become an adult, become the master of your own universe, they're not as powerful as they once were. Maybe that's why so many of us take our time growing up. — Lisa Unger

Well, when I was younger, I lied all the time, because once you understand the power of lying, it's really like magic because you transform reality for people. — Louis C.K.

It is a world of magic and mystery, of deep darkness and flickering starlight. It is a world where terrible things happen and wonderful things too. It is a world where goodness is pitted against evil, love against hate, order against chaos, in a great struggle where often it is hard to be sure who belongs to which side because appearances are endlessly deceptive. Yet for all its confusion and wildness, it is a world where the battle goes ultimately to the good, who live happily ever after, and where in the long run everybody, good and evil alike, becomes known by his true name ... That is the fairy tale of the Gospel with, of course, one crucial difference from all other fairy tales, which is that the claim made for it is that it is true, that it not only happened once upon a time but has kept on happening ever since and is happening still. — Frederick Buechner

Once upon a time--which, when you come to think of it, is really
the only proper way to begin a story--the only way that really
smacks of romance and fairyland-- — L.M. Montgomery

It is important to view a recipe book as one that you use daily and what we in our family call "a living book" - a book that you use all the time, not just read once and discard on the shelf. It is in a sense a spell book, a book of magical enchantments, to be consulted, used and altered as needed. — The Silver Elves

There's some idea there, and the power of it comes from the fact that most of the time you'll never be able to answer what it is. It's just there. It's just a magic moment that you can feel in your gut that it's there, and you're willing to go there and sleep there and go through the hardship and fight for it. Once you start answering it too clearly then the magic is gone. — Kalle Lasn

During an especially noisy elementary school assembly I witnessed a common marvel. Someone spoke,"Once upon a time ... " into the mic, and the room hushed. Such magic never ceases to amaze me. — Richelle E. Goodrich

Writing comes into being to retain information across time and across space. Before writing, communication is evanescent and local; sounds carry a few yards and fade to oblivion. The evanescence of the spoken word went without saying. So fleeting was speech that the rare phenomenon of the echo, a sound heard once and then again, seemed a sort of magic. — James Gleick

For whatever reason, I made the Goblin Queen nervous. Kurag had proposed marriage once upon a time, but I think it was desire for sidhe magic in the goblin bloodline more than true desire for me. Oh, Kurag would fuck me if I'd let him, but that wasn't much of a
compliment. Kurag would probably have fucked anything if it held still long enough. — Laurell K. Hamilton

You mean I'm going to have to do a spell in front of a bunch of toffs?" Kim said, outraged that no one had mentioned this before she had agreed to this come-out.
"Yes, exactly", Lady Wendall said serenely. "You and Richard have plenty of time to design something that will reflect your unique background, as well as demonstrating your abilities as a wizard. I am looking forward to seeing what you decide upon."
"I could pick everyone's pockets at once with magic, "Kim said, still disgruntled. "That'd 'reflect my unique background', all right". — Patricia C. Wrede

Once upon a time ... a long time ago ... things that happened once perhaps but have been talked about for so long that nobody really knows. And underneath all the bits that people have added the magic swords and lamps they're all about one thing - the good hero fighting the giant or the witch or the wicked uncle. Good against bad. Good against evil. — Susan Cooper

Dash said, "From the time I was a baby, my mom took me to the library at least once a week. Librarians were like Mary Poppins to me. They always knew how to match a book to my mood or to whatever I was going through at the time. I could always find peace in books."
"And escape."
"Escape sure. But it wasn't so much about getting away, as going to. You can go anywhere in a book. Books are adventure. Knowledge. Possibility. Magic. — David Levithan

Nobody can tell you about that sword all that there is to be told of it; for those that know of those paths of Space on which its metals once floated, till Earth caught them one by one as she sailed past on her orbit, have little time to waste on such things as magic and so cannot tell you how the sword was made, and those who know whence poetry is, and the need that man has for song, or know any one of the fifty branches of magic, have little time to waste on such things as science, and so cannot tell you whence its ingredients came. Enough that it was once beyond our Earth and was now here amongst our mundane stones; that it was once but as those stones, and now had something in it such as soft music has; let those that can define it. — Lord Dunsany

It's a child's world, full of separate places. Give me a paper and pencil now and ask me to draw a map of the fields I roamed when I was small, and I cannot do it. But change the question, and ask me to list what was there and I can fill pages. The wood ant's nest. The newt pond. The oak covered in marble galls. The birches by the motorway fence with fly agarics at their feet. These things were the waypoints of my world. And other places became magic through happenstance. When I found a huge red underwing moth behind the electricity junction box at the end of my road, that box became a magic place. I needed to check behind it every time I walked past, though nothing was ever there. I'd run to check the place where once I'd caught a grass snake, look up at the tree that one afternoon had held a roosting owl. These places had a magical importance, a pull on me that other places did not, however devoid of life they were in all the visits since. — Helen Macdonald

Once upon a time, there was a Magic Kingdom made of hopes and childhood fantasies. A timeless place where every land was filled with wonder. A place where everyone who entered its gates would be given the gift of the young at heart. — Julie Andrews

But you never know when the magic will descend on you. You never know when the grooves will open up. And once the magic descends you don't want to change even the smallest detail. You don't know what concordance of factors and variables yields that calibrated can't-miss feeling, and you don't want to soil the magic by trying to figure it out, but you don't want to change your grip, your stick, your side of the court, your angle of incidence to the sun. Your heart's in your throat every time you change sides of the court. — David Foster Wallace

When I took Psychology 101, the professor taught us about random reinforcement. Put three
groups of rats in three separate cages, each equipped with a bar. The first group of rats got a
pellet every time they pressed the bar. The second group never got pellets, no matter how often
they pressed. And the third group got pellets just once in a while.
The first group, the professor said,
eventually gets bored with the guaranteed reward and the rats who never get treats give up, too.
But the random rats will press on that bar forever, hoping each time they press that this time the magic will happen,
that this time they'll get lucky. It was at that moment in class that I realized that I had become my father's rat. — Jennifer Weiner

Once upon a time there was a king, and the king commissioned his favorite wizard to create a magic mirror. This mirror didn't show you your reflection. It showed you your soul - it showed you who you really were.
The wizard couldn't look at it without turning away. The king couldn't look at it. The courtiers couldn't look at it. A chestful of treasure was offered to anyone who could look at it for sixty seconds without turning away. And no one could. — Martin Amis

"A son," I say, recalling every detail of the child's perfect face.
Ivory's smile is blinding. "A most unique creature. The first child to be born to two netherlings who've shared a childhood. Wonderland is founded on chaos, madness, and magic. For so long, innocence and imagination have had no place there. As a result, we haven't had children, at least by your world's definition. And because of this, we've lost the ability to dream. But Morpheus experienced those things via you, each time you played together in your dreams. Through your child, Wonderland will thrive with new magic and strength. Our offspring will become true children once more; they will learn to dream again. And all will be right with our world. — A.G. Howard

Sometimes you must do things out of love
that devastate the senses.

This wasn't easy, Elymas. I know
blindness. I know how suddenly

the specks in the stones you can't see
become something you would die for.

From the way you grope this cloud of mist
I know you're trying to imagine

the color of the stars right now,
the blue-white shine that once

ignited your hands with power,
but can conjur only

the upturned bellies of poisoned frogs,
your mother's dying lips.

Don't you know how small
this life is? Even the stars

are just the sweat Christ shakes
from his brow. When you make crooked

the path to eternity, you send your brother
to oblivion, to the buried speck

in the midnight desert stone. This time,
no magic will save you. You

will have to find your life in the dark.
Today you will have to be led by the hand. — Tania Runyan

We've strayed into a zone with a high magical index,' he said. 'Don't ask me how. Once upon a time a really powerful magic field must have been generated here, and we're feeling the after-effects.'
Precisely,' said a passing bush. — Terry Pratchett

Rincewind agreed moodily. He tried to explain that magic had indeed once been wild and lawless, but had been tamed back in the mists of time by the Olden Ones, who had bound it to obey among other things the Law of Conservation of Reality; this demanded that the effort needed to achieve a goal should be the same regardless of the means used. In practical terms this meant that, say, creating the illusion of a glass of wine was relatively easy, since it involved merely the subtle shifting of light patterns. On the other hand, lifting a genuine wineglass a few feet in the air by sheer mental energy required several hours of systematic preparation if the wizard wished to prevent the simple principle of leverage flicking his brain out through his ears. — Terry Pratchett

Female Mercenary. This will be a companion on your Tour. She is usually tall, thin and wiry, silent, and neurotic. Sex scares her. This is because she either came from a nunnery or was raped as a child. Or both. Somehow this inspired her to become a mercenary and she is very good at her job. You can rely on her absolutely in a fight. She can usually kill two people at once while guarding your back in between. The rest of the time, she will irritate you with lots of punctilious weapons cleaning and a perpetual insistence that a proper watch be kept. Mostly, she will have no magic talents, but sometimes, in an emergency, she will come up with a gift or vision. You will end up grudgingly admiring her. — Diana Wynne Jones

Deep inside, we're still the boys of autumn, that magic time of the year that once swept us onto America's fields. — Archie Manning

She was at that crucial age when a women begins to regret having stayed faithful to a husband she never really loved, when the glowing sunset colors of her beauty offer her one last, urgent choice between maternal and feminine love. At such a moment a life that seemed to have chosen its course long ago is questioned once again, for the last time the magic compass needle of the will hovers between final resignation and the hope of erotic experience. — Stefan Zweig

Once upon a time, during a time after all the happily-ever-afters, and perhaps even after the ever-afters after that, all the evil villains of the world were banished from the United Kingdom of Auradon and imprisoned on the Isle of the Lost. There, underneath a protective dome that kept all manner of enchantment out of their clutches, the terrible, the treacherous, the truly awful, and the severely sinister were cursed to live without the power of magic. King Beast declared the villains exiled forever. — Melissa De La Cruz

Such innocent confusions are like cognitive magic-eye posters. Most of the time it's impossible to go back to the jumbled mess once you've registered the picture. Sex is the exception. So natural and universal is a child's curiosity about sex and so long are we conscious of it before we do it, that our origical impressions of it leave an indelible mark. — Sloane Crosley

I wish you wouldn't indulge him," said the Prince Regent, whose name was also George (Kell found the Grey London habit of sons taking father's name both redundant and confusing) with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It gets his spirits up."
"Is that a bad thing?" asked Kell.
"For him, yes. He'll be in a frenzy later. Dancing on the tables talking of magic and other Londons. What trick did you do for him this time? Convince him he could fly?"
Kell had only made that mistake once. — Victoria Schwab

He looks like anybody you see on the street. But when he grins, birds fall dead off telephone lines ... the grass yellows up and dies where he spits. He's always outside. He came out of time ... He has the name of a thousand demons. Jesus knocked him into a herd of pigs once. His name is Legion. He's afraid of us ... He knows magic. He can call the wolves and live in the crows ... He's the king of nowhere. — Stephen King

Alex leaned over and treated me to a Rhett Butler kiss, slow and deep but not too sweet. He once told Scarlett something to the effect of how badly she needed kissing, and by someone who knew what he was doing. Alex knew what he was doing. By the time he finished proving it, I was breathless. I rested my head on his shoulder, basking in his warmth and filling my lungs with his scent. "What was that for?"
"That was to show you how glad I am that we got out of that mess in one piece and that we're here together." He extracted his arm from around my shoulders and sat back. "Now let's talk about your crazy stunt."
Damn it, Rhett did that, too. He'd kiss Scarlett silly, then lecture her. — Suzanne Johnson

Mikolay took his wand out, touched the cage's lock and said: "Eis Izras" three times.
The door opened at once, unfortunately making lots of noise and waking the humans up.
Mikolay knew a few powerful hexes and he was able to create small flying dragons.
He hoped that he could stop the people, animals, and block the shadows to buy some time. — Magda M. Olchawska

Truly, there is magic in fairytales.
For it takes but a simply-uttered 'Once upon a time ... ' to allure and spellbind an audience. — Richelle E. Goodrich

This time Simone did not smile at all.
"I cannot tell that to you, child. This is a
secret I am not allowed to talk about. I only hope that you will
know how to follow the true and right path. And now, farewell!" She
turned around and walked away between the bookshelves, disappearing
from their sight.
Nirupa looked at the book she held in her
hand. On its thick front cover she read:
"Atlantis."
Deep shudders shook her body. She turned her
head and looked at Miss Bell, who also looked numb with fear.
"Now that we have started the adventure, me
must carry it through to the end," Ni whispered to Miss Bell,
opening the book. She did not have time to see what was written
inside because, once the first page was open, a whirl of warm air
sucked Ni and Miss. Bell inside, In the twinkle of an eye they
found themselves standing up on the main street of a magnificent
bazaar. — Leora Cika Waldman

There were no knights, no castles, no magic. But there was laughter, and there was love, and while Judith still had breath in her body, she would make sure they had enough. Her life was already its own once upon a time. There was enough joy in the story, enough sorrow mixed in. It might not be the sort of tale that mothers told their children but it was still a good one. Not everything hurt. It would all turn out. — Courtney Milan

Fantasy is escapism, but wait ... Why is this wrong? What are you escaping from, and where are you escaping to? Is the story opening windows or slamming doors? The British author G.K. Chesterton summarized the role of fantasy very well. He said its purpose was to take the everyday, commonplace world and lift it up and turn it around and show it to us from a different perspective, so that once again we see it for the first time and realize how marvelous it is. Fantasy - the ability to envisage the world in many different ways - is one of the skills that make us human. — Terry Pratchett

Tonight, you're going to learn to influence two elements simultaneously."
"I can't believe you ruined a bottle of avise wine."
"I told you magic was a conversation - "
"You also said it was an ocean," said Lila. "And a door, and once I think you even called it a cat - "
"Well, tonight we're calling it a conversation. We're simply adding another participant. The same power, different lines."
"I've never been able to pat my head and rub my stomach at the same time."
"Well then, this should be interesting. — Victoria Schwab

Still want you?" I repeated quietly. "Phoenix. I have wanted you since the moment I first laid eyes on you. Since the fire of our magic ignited when we touched for the first time," I pulled him gently to his feet, making him face me. "You are my soul mate, Phoenix. You are it. You are my home, my heart. Literally, the other half of my soul." I gripped him by his lapels. "You are written into my DNA and you ask if I still want you." I let him go and smiled. "The answer is, and always will be, yes."
He kissed me fiercely, pressing me into his body. I ignored the twinge of my knife wound and kissed him back as I felt the fire in my soul begin to awaken once again. — Aprille Legacy

Nothing like beautiful legs. 'Cause with beautiful legs, even if you've been there only once or twice, there might be something up there besides the cunt, there might be something really marvellous this time - it could be a cunt, but it could be - it's just something about looking at the legs just makes you - I'm not saying there's anything wrong with the cunt, I'm just saying, you always imagine - some extra magic when you're looking at the outside portion of the female. — Charles Bukowski

Children believe what we tell them. They have complete faith in us. They believe that a rose plucked from a garden can plunge a family into conflict. They believe that the hands of a human beast will smoke when he slays a victim, and that this will cause him shame when a young maiden takes up residence in his home. They believe a thousand other simple things.
I ask of you a little of this childlike sympathy and, to bring us luck, let me speak four truly magic words, childhood's "Open Sesame":
Once upon a time ... — Jean Cocteau

My mother learned that she was carrying me at about the same time the Second World War was declared; with the family talent for magic realism, she once told me she had been to the doctor's on the very day. — Angela Carter

Envoi"

Go, dumb-born book,
Tell her that sang me once that song of Lawes:
Hadst thou but song
As thou hast subjects known,
Then were there cause in thee that should condone
Even my faults that heavy upon me lie
And build her glories their longevity.

Tell her that sheds
Such treasure in the air,
Recking naught else but that her graces give
Life to the moment,
I would bid them live
As roses might, in magic amber laid,
Red overwrought with orange and all made
One substance and one colour
Braving time.

Tell her that goes
With song upon her lips
But sings not out the song, nor knows
The maker of it, some other mouth,
May be as fair as hers,
Might, in new ages, gain her worshippers,
When our two dusts with Waller's shall be laid,
Siftings on siftings in oblivion,
Till change hath broken down
All things save Beauty alone. — Ezra Pound

They've been lying from the start. From the first time we read the words 'once upon a time,' we're fed the idea that these girls - these gorgeous, demure, singing-with-the-wildlife girls - get a happy ending. And I get it. Poor thing had to do some chores around the house, fine. But the idea that she needs a magic old lady to come down and skim off the dirt so the prince will see her beauty? That's ridiculous. Maybe she should have been working on her lockpicking skills instead of serenading squirrels. She could have busted out, hitched a ride to the castle, and impressed the prince with her safe-cracking prowess. Sorry, magic-fairy lady. She didn't need your help. — Kelsey Macke

It soon got so cold that the men rushed to close the doors. When they had shut them and the room was again silent, they saw that several women had begun to cry. The women said it was because of the numbing air that had washed over their bare shoulders, but even strangers embraced sadly as they coasted into the new year and felt its strength commencing. They cried because of the magic and the contradictions; because time had passed and time was left; because they saw themselves as if they were in a photograph that had winked fast enough to contradict their mortality; because the city around them had conspired to break a hundred thousand hearts; and because they and everyone else had to float upon this sea of troubles, watertight. Sometimes there were islands, and when they found them they held fast, but never could they hold fast enough not to be moved and once again overwhelmed. — Mark Helprin

Larry's such a liar---
He tells outrageous lies.
He says he's ninety-nine years old
Instead of only five.
He says he lives up on the moon,
He says that he once flew.
He says he's really six feet four
Instead of three feet two.
He says he has a billion dollars
'Stead of just a dime.
He says he rode a dinosaur
Back in some distant time.
He says his mother is the moon
Who taught him magic spells.
He says his father is the wind
That rings the morning bells.
He says he can take stones and rocks
And turn them into gold.
He says he can take burnin' fire
And turn it freezin' cold.
He said he'd send me seven elves
To help me with my chores.
But Larry's such a liar---
He only sent me four. — Shel Silverstein

Sometimes when one cannot stand the story or novel one
is working on, it helps to write something else - a different
story or novel, or essays venting one's favorite peeves, or exercises
aimed at passing the time and incidentally polishing up
one's craft. The best way in the world for breaking a writer's
block is to write a lot. Jabbering away on paper, one gets
tricked into feeling interested, all at once, in something one is
saying, and behold, the magic waters are flowing again. Often
it helps to work on a journal, since that allows the writer to
write about those things that most interest him, yet frees him
of the pressure of achievement and encourages him to develop
a more natural, more personal style. — John Gardner

My body
Healed quickly. But the wound
to my psyche was deep.
Wide. First aid, too little, too late,
left me hemorrhaging inside,
the blood unstaunched by psychological
bandage or love's healing magic.
Eventually it scabbed over,
a thick, ugly welt of memory.
I work to conceal it, but no matter
how hard I try, once in a while
something makes me pick at it
until the scarring bleeds.
In my arms, Ashante cries,
innocence ripped apart
by circumstance. Bloodied by
inhuman will. Time will prove
a tourniquet. But she will always
be at risk of infection. (124) — Ellen Hopkins

Today there could be laughter and freedom, but soon the magic would end and they would have to go back to the real world. However, there would still always be time to get under Dak's skin. — Alyson Serena Stone