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?

People don't believe me when I tell them I'm a magician who makes portals to other worlds. So I tell them I'm a writer instead.

The blue foam spread quickly, and had almost entirely enveloped the room, moving rapidly towards the last clear door, when suddenly the door burst open, and Simon, looking flushed, and panting heavily, stepped into the room.“Nooooooo!” shrieked Maven Ellie; a shocking sound out of the usually calm and cheerful magician. But it was too late.The foam, already covering most of the room, seemed to stiffen for a moment, before a molten red glow began to take over. The foam hissed, as though in anger, and at an alarmingly fast rate, it raced towards Simon, who had frozen obligingly, the moment Maven Ellie had screamed.A look of terror crept over his face at the sight of the crimson foam racing towards him. Desperately, he tried to move away, but the foam had already reached his feet, and he was stuck fast. Maven Thom, in a rather stunning display of athleticism for a man of his age, made a running leap for the small space that remained between Simon and the door, just barely clearing the approaching foam. The foam continued to climb up Simon’s legs and chest, covering his neck and face in seconds, until he was completely encased in the hardened foam.

The Constitution, the National Assembly, the dynastic parties, the blue and the red republicans, the heroes of Africa, the thunder from the platform, the sheet lightning of the daily press, the entire literature, the political names and the intellectual reputations, the civil law and penal code, the liberté, égalité, fraternité and the second of May 1852—all have vanished like a phantasmagoria before the spell of a man whom even his enemies do not make out to be a magician. Universal suffrage seems to have survived only for a moment, in order that with its own hand it may make its last will and testament before the eyes of all the world and declare in the name of the people itself: Everything that exists has this much worth, that it will perish.

A farmer is a magician who produces money from the mud.

I am a M.A.G.I.C. Child.. Motivated And Growing In Christ! …I hope you too are a M.A.G.I.C. Dreamer!

Magic always happens when you direct your inner powers to the object you want to change.

This is the man who thinks too much, who stands back from his life and never lives it. He is caught in a web of pros and cons about his decisions and lost in a labyrinth of reflective meanderings from which he cannot extricate himself. He is afraid to live, to ‘leap into battle.’ He can only sit on his rock and think. The years pass. He wonders where the time has gone. And he ends by regretting a life of sterility. He is a voyeur, an armchair adventurer. In the world of academia, he is a hairsplitter. In the fear of making the wrong decision, he makes none. In his fear of living, he also cannot participate in the joy and pleasure that other people experience in their lived lives. If he is withholding from others, and not sharing what he knows, he eventually feels isolated and lonely. To the extent that he has hurt others with his knowledge and technology—in whatever field and in whatever way—by cutting himself off from living relatedness with other human beings, he has cut off his own soul.” Refering the the dark magician energy.

Writing is magic happening on paper.

A magician must always value his magic effects more than himself, because after few years audience may not remember his name but they will remember his magic effect.