“Seeing the future sounds cool until you get this two-second flash and have no idea what it means, or if it will really happen.”
“I wasn’t a witch until last Wednesday,” Lauren said. “I don’t know how to handle this.” “You’ve always been a witch, sweetheart. You just didn’t know.”
“Friends who can accept you, even when the rules change like that, are gold.”
“the best conversations wandered and twisted around. Sometimes you learn more that way than traveling in straight lines. ”
“Nat gave her a lopsided grin. “Something like that.” “This is one weird February.”
“She yanked open the door of the bagel shop and gratefully charged inside. Her mind reeled. Too many voices, too many feelings, too much. Lauren felt her stomach churning and clutched the door handle. She focused on the handle. That was the way out. The three steps to carry her back out the door were a marathon. When the door closed, she sank to her knees.”
“ “I’m pretty sure if it weren’t for you, I’d have spent the rest of my life terrified of crowded places. I can’t thank you enough.”
“In theory, a coven is just a group of witches working together.” Jamie looked pained. “In practice?” “In practice, it tends to be really heavy on ritual, really light on actual magic.”
“It’s because I’m a witch that I can take these pictures,” Jennie said. “A good portrait photographer shows the outside of a person; a great one shows the inside. Being a mind witch makes it a little easier to see the inside, to know what the photograph needs to show.”
“As instructed, she visualized the first moves in her mind, and then began. No words—her class was supposed to be reading the pictures in her mind. Knees bend, arms sweep up, breathe in. Stretch for the gorgeous blue sky and feel the warmth. Breathe out, arms sweep down and to heart center. Repeat.”
“I have new batteries in the iPod, so she can have her own personal force field back. ”
“Dialogue in the works of autobiography is quite naturally viewed with some suspicion. How on earth can the writer remember verbatim conversations that happened fifteen, twenty, fifty years ago? But 'Are you playing, Bob?' is one of only four sentences I have ever uttered to any Arsenal player (for the record the others are 'How's the leg, Bob?' to Bob Wilson, recovering from injury the following season; 'Can I have your autograph, please?' to Charlie George, Pat Rice, Alan Ball and Bertie Mee; and, well, 'How's the leg, Brian?' to Brian Marwood outside the Arsenal club shop when I was old enough to know better) and I can therefore vouch for its absolute authenticity.”
“Our nights are different. She falls asleep like someone yielding to the gentle tug of a warm tide, and floats with confidence till morning. I fall asleep more grudgingly, thrashing at the waves, either reluctant to let a good day depart or still bitching about a bad one. Different currents run through our spells of unconsciousness.”
“Magnus, you were trying to flirt with your own plate."
"I'm a very open-minded sort of fellow!"
"Ragnor is not," Catarina said. "When he found out that you were feeding us guinea pigs, he hit you over the head with your plate. It broke."
"So ended our love," Magnus said. "Ah, well. It would have never worked between me and the plate anyway.”
“No man lives, or can live, without having some object in view, and without making efforts to attain that object. But when there is no such object and hope is entirely fled, anguish often turns a man into a monster.”
“SCIENTISTS HAD KNOWN since the late nineteenth century that tobacco smoke contains carbon monoxide. Victorian scientists had even been able to calculate the amount of gas in the smoke: up to 4 percent in cigarette smoke, and in Gettler’s own choice of tobacco, the cigar, between 6 and 8 percent. Gettler’s latest work theorized that chain smokers might suffer from low-level carbon monoxide poisoning. He speculated in a 1933 report that “headaches experienced by heavy smokers are due in part to the inhalation of carbon monoxide.” But his real interest lay less in their symptoms than in how much of the poison had accumulated in their blood, and how that might affect his calculations on cause of death. He approached that problem in his usual, single-minded way. To get a better sense of carbon monoxide contamination from smoking tobacco, Gettler selected three groups of people to compare: persons confined to a state institution in the relatively clean air of the country; street cleaners who worked in a daily, dusty cloud of car exhaust; and heavy smokers. As expected, carboxyhemoglobin blood levels for country dwellers averaged less than 1 percent saturation. The levels for Manhattan street cleaners were triple that amount, a solid 3 percent. But smokers came in the highest, higher than he’d expected, well above the nineteenth-century calculations. Americans were inhaling a lot more tobacco smoke than they had once done, and their saturation levels ranged from 8 to 19 percent. (The latter was from a Bronx cab driver who admitted to smoking six cigarettes on his way to Gettler’s laboratory, lighting one with the stub of another as he went.) It was safe to assume, Gettler wrote with his usual careful precision, that “tobacco smoking appreciably increases the carbon monoxide in the blood and cannot be ignored in the interpretation of laboratory results.” THE OTHER NOTABLE poison in tobacco smoke was nicotine.”
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