Quotes about supernatural

there are three kinds of people in the world: those who don't know and don't know they don't know those who don't know and do know they don't know and those who know and know how much they still don't know.

Once again...welcome to my house. Come freely. Go safely and leave something of the happiness you bring.

Jesus Christ is coming back because God's divine plan for humanity involves a second exodus a supernatural exodus.

We know a little about a lot of things just enough to make us dangerous.

The mirror had no power. The mirror was just a piece of silvered glass the enchantment was all in me.

Demons are like obedient dogs they come when they are called.

Deal with my weird I’m dealing with yours.

He's doing a sniffing thing! I've already been through this it's how I got stuck with Aiden!! Meryn yelled

Is he following? Can you have a flaming gay moment or something and check?""Why do I have to be the flaming gay one?

Impressive," Court offered, gallantly bending to retrieve the shoe. "You should join the theater.""Fuck you.""I owed you that.""Revenge is a dish best served with a side of handcuffs and a hard ass-fucking. Remember

What’s going on?” Ingrid asked. “Listen, nothing bad today, please.” She pulled a chair out and sat down. Faye stared at her and said the words as quickly as she could. “I’m just going to give it to you straight as I can. Mila is a witch.” Ingrid busted out with a laugh. “I wouldn’t call her that,” she said. “That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?” She poured the juice into her glass and took a drink. “What did the brat do this time?” She set her glass down.

You’re a talking cat?” Endora asked with a look of disbelief on her face.“My, my, my, aren’t you the bright bulb of the bunch,” he replied with a bit of snarky smugness. “Tell me then, bright-bulb, do you suppose that I need your permission to talk just because I’m a cat?” He raised his paw to his face, admiring his newly gnawed manicure. After he observed the last nail, he slapped his paw down on the floorboards, making a low thud sound. “Because I don’t,” he smirked.Endora was taken by surpris

But a smell shivered him awake.It was a scent as old as the world. It was a hundred aromas of a thousand places. It was the tang of pine needles. It was the musk of sex. It was the muscular rot of mushrooms. It was the spice of oak. Meaty and redolent of soil and bark and herb. It was bats and husks and burrows and moss. It was solid and alive - so alive! And it was close.The vapors invaded Nicholas' nostrils and his hair rose to their roots. His eyes were as heavy as manhole covers, but he open

Something like panic struck at Hurlow. Moffat's calm confession of fear withdrew the prop upon which he had leaned. Down there, among the motionless shadows, lurked invisible things, things that were nameless, shapeless and malignant; things which could see without being seen. One of the long lost terrors of childhood returned to him, and like a child he put his hand into Moffat's.

I think locality exercises strange influence over some minds. The peaceful meadow-scenery holds no lurking horrors in its bosom, but in the lonesome moorlands, full of curiously molded boulders, grotesque fancies must assail one there. Creatures seem to come, odd and ill-defined as their surroundings. As a child I had a peculiar horror of those tall, odd-shaped boulders, with seeming faces, featureless, it is true, but sometimes strangely resembling humans and animals. I believe the spinney may

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve always enjoyed feeling afraid. I think it is the most delicious feeling there is

I got swirling eyes and the capacity to shatter windows with my bare voice. Tod got teleportation and invisibility. The supernatural world is so far from fair.

Let us depart instead for the fields of Dreams and wander those blue, romantic hills where stands the abandoned tower of the Supernatural, where cool mosses clothe the ruins of Idealism. Let us, in short, indulge in a little fantasy!

There is no such thing as a miracle. That is, there is never an absolute reversal of any natural law. Every event, however unexpected by us, who are all more or less grossly ignorant of Nature and of Nature's laws, is the result of pre-existing causes, which develop results in ways and to extents strictly conformable to the energies set in motion. Supernormal events maybe, but nothing is supernatural.

Everyone cannot elevate or even revelate at the same time and/or season; an appointment to elevation can result from being specially chosen...like fruit that is ready, ripe and refined for its pleasurable taste.Even scriptural wisdom documents that "Many are called, few are chosen."Those chosen 'few' may deeply sense that at the core function of elevation is an acension both to and from a higher positioned calling for it...a destiny appointment that will be met without haste...separation has the

Ego is like a mad elephant which is ridden by our blind heart and blind mind and which ultimately destroys our real selves

God made you for His pleasure. And He made you intrinsically needy and dependent on His unspeakable joy. If you are struggling with sin our addiction, don’t try to kill your appetite for pleasure. It is impossible. Just direct it to the source of all pleasure. You will be amazed to find that He has perfectly and supernaturally designed you to have all your deepest needs met in Him

Scientists rightly resist invoking the supernatural in scientific explanations for fear of committing a god-of-the-gaps fallacy (the fallacy of using God as a stop-gap for ignorance). Yet without some restriction on the use of chance, scientists are in danger of committing a logically equivalent fallacy-one we may call the “chance-of-the-gaps fallacy.” Chance, like God, can become a stop-gap for ignorance.

Mysticism and supernaturalism are the descendants of ignorance and fear.

I never said you had to like it. You have to accept it. No regret. - Claire Harding - Boone Holler

Books are like Tarot decks. They provide answers and guidance but more importantly, they are doorways and portals to the otherworld and the imagination. They leave their imprint and keep whispering to us long after we close the pages or shuffle the deck.

What we could consider magic, may just be science that we don’t understand yet.

These scars that we have... they don't go away. They only fade with time, but they're still hauntingly there.

All souls can earn IMMORTALITY.The Creators have IMMORTALITY.The Creators are the' ONLY' ONES'To award IMMORTALITY...FROM MY BOOK: War between Souls over First Universe Justice Awaits

All but one of Zoe Pendergraft's friends were dead.

There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

Fire and ice licked at his soul—whispered his name—drawing him deeper into the enveloping pain and blackness as he’d dreamed earlier. He suddenly wished to return to the rippling stream. The water would wash away the blistering pain…the fire…the burn. He’d wade deeper…submit to the current…He’d let go…

I replayed the moment I first saw him at the picnic throughout our years together. As corny as it may sound, from the first glance we shared near the cake stand at the picnic, the two of us remained connected like the icing on one of those made from scratch cakes...

Your mind is a key, and whatever it unlocks, the greatest treasure of all.

Imagination is center of spiritual force.

By religion, then, I understand a propitiation or conciliation of powers superior to man which are believed to direct and control the course of nature and of human life. Thus defined, religion consists of two elements, a theoretical and a practical, namely, a belief in powers higher than man and an attempt to propitiate or please them. Of the two, belief clearly comes first, since we must believe in the existence of a divine being before we can attempt to please him. But unless the belief leads

Magick is not a supernatural power granted by spirits or demons. True magick is a natural power which exists in every person, and we have neglected it because of misguided principles.

A wise man once told me family don’t end in blood, but it doesn’t start there either. Family cares about you, not what you can do for them. Family’s there through the good, bad, all of it. They got your back even when it hurts. That’s family

Denial is strong with this one.

The evidence never seemed to matter to those in power, who had already made up their minds and did what people typically do when their worldview is threatened by new data: they attacked the messenger.

Even the brightest sun can be obscured by clouds, this is the power of nature.

A sixth sense is a miraculous thing, which in itself suggests a supernatural order. The human intellect, however, for all its power and triumphs, is largely formed by this world and is therefore corruptible.

I know there are powers I can't discern and things that bend and shape us that we cannot see.

The moment you are wrapped up in the world, you become blind to the things wrapped in the mysteries.

We have a natural and supernatural identity. Our spirituality should be relevant to daily life; our calling is to influence the world through right living, the Truth and the power of God.

I'm dangerous for you, Abby.

Supernatural fiction contains its own generic borderland: a neutral territory, which Tzvetan Todorov calls 'the fantastic,' between 'the marvelous' and 'the uncanny.' According to Todorov, 'The fantastic is that hesitation experienced by a person who knows only the laws of nature, confronting an apparently supernatural event.' Once the event is satisfactorily explained (and sometimes it is never explained), we have left the fantastic for an adjacent genre - either 'the uncanny,' where the appare

Many of the best fantastic stories begin in a leisurely way, set in commonplace surroundings, with exact, meticulous descriptions of an ordinary background, much as in a 'realistic' tale. Then a gradual - or it may be sometimes a shockingly abrupt - change becomes apparent, and the reader begins to realize that what is being described is alien to the world he is accustomed to, that something strange has crept or leapt into it. This strangeness changes the world permanently and fundamentally.

The fantastic postulates that there are forces in the outside world, and in our own natures, which we can neither know nor control, and these forces may even constitute the essence of our existence, beneath the comforting rational surface. The fantastic is, moreover, a product of human imagination, perhaps even an excess of imagination. It arises when laws thought to be absolute are transcended, in the borderland between life and death, the animate and the inanimate, the self and the world; it a

In any event, whether a supernatural tale remains altogether fantastic or eventually modulates to the uncanny or the marvelous, the reader is faced with disconcerting ontological and perceptual problems.Indeed, the disorienting effect of the supernatural encounter in fiction seems to reflect some deeper disorientations in the culture at large.

Fantastic literature has been especially prominent in times of unrest, when the older values have been overthrown to make way for the new; it has often accompanied or predicted change, and served to shake up rational Complacency, challenging reason and reminding man of his darker nature. Its popularity has had its ups and downs, and it has always been the preserve of a small literary minority. As a natural challenger of classical values, it is rarely part of a culture's literary mainstream, expr

(Washington) Irving was only the first of the writers of the American ghostly tale to recognize that the supernatural, exactly because its epistemological status is so difficult to determine, challenged the writer to invent a commensurately sophisticated narrative technique.

But the recurrent ambiguity of the American tale of the supernatural reveals both a fascination with the possibility of numinous experience and a perplexity about whether there was, in fact, anything numinous to be experienced. Writers often delighted in leading readers into, but not out of, the haunted dusk of the borderland.

Life is a weirdly themed party

That is why I take the younger ones, you see. You already give parts of your hearts away so easily--little fragments attached to celebrities, to hobbies, to ill-fated love affairs. Your kind have the best chance at survival.

I like to keep my dreams attainable. Eat cheese, sleep on a nice bed, have my work in the same museum as Rothko--the usual.

We're all just moments and most of us don't matter. We study less than one percent of all humanity in our history books.

I just want to matter,' he said unsmiling. It was like pulling a curtain back, peering behind a mask made of smiles and quips. This was the real James, this young, bright, desperate thing. There was a burning intensity to his eyes, and she saw for the first time a boy who would sell his heart--not for some hobby, but because he thought it was the only way to life the life he wanted. They had that in common.

But were they truly victims? If they made a deal, knowing fully what they were trading for a wish--but then again, could a person ever truly know the consequences of giving away their heart?

His blue eyes slice through me and make me wish I hadn't come.

Humans lose focus of the big picture when they’re drunken in the midst of their feelings. - Tojuro Hattori

A certain atmosphere of breathless and unexplainable dread of outer, unknown forces must be present; and there must be a hint, expressed with a seriousness and portentousness becoming its subject, of that most terrible conception of the human brain - a malign and particular suspension or defeat of those laws of Nature which are our only safeguard against the assaults of chaos and the daemons of unplumbed space .... Therefore we must judge a weird tale not by the author's intent, or by the mere m

Nevertheless, the potential and actual importance of fantastic literature lies in such psychic links: what appears to be the result of an overweening imagination, boldly and arbitrarily defying the laws of time, space and ordered causality, is closely connected with, and structured by, the categories of the subconscious, the inner impulses of man's nature. At first glance the scope of fantastic literature, free as it is from the restrictions of natural law, appears to be unlimited. A closer look

As has already been noted, fantastic literature developed at precisely the moment when genuine belief in the supernatural was on the wane, and when the sources provided by folklore could safely be used as literary material. It is almost a necessity, for the writer as well as for the reader of fantastic literature, that he or she should not believe in the literal truth of the beings and objects described, although the preferred mode of literary expression is a naive realism. Authors of fantastic

And so the lion fell in love with the lamb." - Edward Cullen, Twilight

There in the garden I stand amongst the trees and the flowers. Bare back as laid out upon the grassy knoll she awaits there for me now. Atop a bed of lotus blossoms, within a wall of roses and violets held she waits. A light breeze settles in against the angle of my naked continuity, and I am whole as one inside. So she rolls her body round, like some delicate feather blown on the wind, to conceal the gentle back contour and reveal a frontal nudity that would make beauty itself ache with the nee

All night, I thought about that walk. The touch of the forest tickled my skin long after, while the scent lingered in my nostrils. It was unlike anything back home. There was a feeling in the atmosphere I couldn't shake--something that was trying to draw me back. I felt alive in that forest. --His Name is Moonlight

I felt empowered by him, as if his very existence manipulated the balance of my nature from a shy little girl to wonder woman.

You would have only seen a skittish young deer jumping through the forest, having no idea it was a little girl.

I'm going to tell you something I probably shouldn't.

There is at least one truth in every myth.

Oh get over it Cecilia! You are no longer human. Such decorum doesn’t exist amongst our kind

This is the beginning of a new time,” Torius said, “a great moment for us. One of us has learnt the Tongue and freed a princess. I have saved him and killed the guards. No longer will we be slaves. No longer will the guards tell us what to do. No longer will we listen. We will fight till we get what we want!”A roar exploded from the children around him.“This is a revolution,” Torius went on. “You all remember the pain that you have felt when the guards have touched you. You all know the shame we

Every time I had things straight in my head abouthim, I saw him smile or crook an eyebrow, and all my sensible reasons on why I couldn’t have feelings for him seemed redundant.

Maybe because I knew Haze and Kate so well by then the passage leapt out at me, clear and sharp as di

Oh r-really? Do t-tell?” I quirked an eyebrow back at him.“Well, usually it’s best to take your shoes and socks off before you step in the stream, better balance on an uneven surface. Also, you avoid that unpleasant squelchy feeling when you wear the shoes againlater.” He paused, smirking. “Also, ifI was going to paddle barefoot “I was going to paddle barefoot upstream in Yorkshire, I’d wait until at least May before I tried it. But you go ahead, love. You’re clearly a Spartan lass.

Hey now, wait a second. When will I see you again? You can’t leave a poor lad dangling like that!”His look of bewilderment made me bite my lip to keep from laughing.“Why would you w-want to?” The words were out before I could stop them. A rare occurrence for me. And now I seemed pathetically needy. Very attractive.“Because I love a pair of pretty green eyes.” He grinned.

This is m-me.” I indicated the lonely track.“Really? What’s up there?” He peered over my shoulder in genuine curiosity. “Is there a house up there? You’re not a sylph or something that really does live wild, are you?

Oh r-really? Do t-tell?” I quirked an eyebrow back at him.

“Well, usually it’s best to take your shoes and socks off before you step in the stream, better balance on an uneven surface. Also, you avoid that unpleasant squelchy feeling when you wear the shoes again later.” He paused, smirking. “Also, if
I was going to paddle barefoot upstream in Yorkshire, I’d wait until at least May before I tried it. But you go ahead, love. You’re clearly a Spartan lass.

How did you get so scratched up then, Emlynn?” He looked at me uncertainly again.I felt wildly like laughing. Too many swooping highs and plummeting lows. What a weird fewdays. Weird being a massive understatement.“Cr-Crawling through gorse bushes.” I took a perverse delight in answering his questions in a way that told him nothing at all. I’d never paid much attention to boys before. Maybe Grace was onto something after all.“Crawling through gorse,” he repeated. “Part of your action-girl antics

Tangled onto the shuttle, we were being woven back and forth to create the same tapestry of despair and heartbreak and loss. It was so muchbigger than I could see before, and all I had done was stand at the centre of the web and feed it my anger and frustration and jealousy.

Dad looked more sheepish than I had ever seen him look in his life. It made him appear younger.“A scent. Your mother’s shampoo.

He had to die someday too. He might do it on sheets with a six-hundred-plus thread count, but he'd die just the same. Death wouldn't forget about him.

The first thing you lose when you die is your motor skills.

Without thinking, I step a little closer, reaching out slowly to slide a fingertip over the largest petal of the lily tattoo on her lower back. Instantly a vibration moves up my arm, and I swear the mark on my hand burns against my skin.I clench my fingers into a fist, but I don’t step away.“Did you feel that?” she asks.I shake my head. “I don’t know.” I feel so much, always so much.She takes my hand and brings it to her side again, resting it on the violets. I look at thepurple flowers between

Wow! It's like magic! she exclaimed.Simon shook his head. "It's God's love. That's stronger than any magic." - The Demon Trapper's Daughter

From DW:I got it. “Here's the thing,” I said. "I'm not going to be the government's bitch.

Once bitten twice shy? Sure, but... why not get a bigger dog and bite them back?

Psychic change, as Todorov has recognized, subverted the genre in another way, by revoking the cultural taboos, the social censorship, that had prohibited the overt treatment of psychosexual themes, which then found covert expression in the supernatural tale. 'There is no need today to resort to the devil [or to posthumous reverie] in order to speak of excessive sexual desire, and none to resort to vampires in order to designate the attraction exerted by corpses: psychoanalysis, and the literatu

Nil Sine Magno Labore ("Nothing without great effort") --Motto of Brooklyn College

They may love you', she whispered, 'but they'll never understand.

Christianity is a daily supernatural experience with your Father God not a setof rules

A vision is something supernatural, which develops in the heart of a man

When the religious Cowper confesses in the opening lines of his address to the famous Yardley oak, that the sense of awe and reverence it inspired in him would have made him bow himself down and worship it but for the happy fact that his mind was illumined with the knowledge of the truth, he is but saying what many feel without in most cases recognizing the emotion for what it is—the sense of the supernatural in nature.

One good, compassionate and caring Self is a thousand times greater than all the fanciful, imaginary supernatural entities in the world.

I laughed when I read about being born with two hearts, one of which is devoted only to destroying humanity.

Laney, why do I believe you transcend the ordinary? Why do I look at you, and expect to see a façade fall away, revealing something much more than even the extraordinary? Tell me."Elaine flushed, her knees wobbling. “I…don’t…know. But thank you—for the kind words. I’m flattered.” She closed her eyes wanting to hide. He was too close…too beautiful…too fervid.And she was too vulnerable, too exposed.“Look at me.”She hesitantly met his unwavering gaze.“No more hiding in your shadows,” he whispered,

I wish to confound all these people, to create a work of art of a supernatural realism and of a spiritualist naturalism. I wish to prove... that nothing is explained in the mysteries which surround us.

The power of loving a God whom religion paints as the most detestable of beings would, doubtless, be a proof of the most supernatural grace, that is, a grace the most contrary to nature; to love that which we do not know, is, assuredly, sufficiently difficult; to love that which we fear, is still more difficult; but to love that which is exhibited to us in the most repulsive colors, is manifestly impossible.