VenCo

She breathed deep, appreciating the moment of solitude. Silence in an outdoor space had a presence instead of an absence.

People get it wrong. The magic’s not in the person. The magic is in the place. It just takes the right kind of person to pull it up.

Throughout history, witches have been the stand-ins for all people who have felt 'outside' or 'different.' I say, fuck it -- go outside, be different, be so different they have to loosen their grip on the world because you are proof there is so much beyond them. Live fully, feel it all without apology, be weird and powerful and amazing. Because ultimately, that is who this book was written for--the wild witches that no man (and no system) could ever begin to contain. In closing, I would like to remind you that it's always good day to hex the patriarchy.

made you who you are. Gave you magic. Gave you guts. Mothers are the witches we know best but never acknowledge.

Man is the most dangerous thing in the world...even if you think you know the fucker...No one is going to take care of you the way you would take care of you.

It felt like the drunken part of falling in love, the erratic and uncompromising compulsion that made you do dumb shit and your best shit at the same time.

That’s the way it is.’ But why is it that way? Why are our Elders, especially women, pushed aside? Why are talented people—artists and thinkers—forced to work shitty jobs? Why are we a part of a broken system that leaves both struggling to keep their head above water?

Her grandmother liked to remind her that gratitude was the strongest spell, one that attracts, that transforms, that makes clear.

Anxiety makes everything feel very big or very small, depending on which is more hurtful in the moment. Being suddenly relieved of anxiety in this moment gave her a clear understanding that this was the life she had been running towards. Not necessarily New Orleans, not a distant dot on a map, not a brand-new career, but a life full of secret gardens.

Guilt has a way of showing up when it is least useful and settling in so that it’s hard to breathe.

At one point, Lettie would have said indifference was worse than cruelty, because cruelty is at least full of passion. Now she knew different.

She wondered if every place in New Orleans had a secret garden, if every place was so witchy and beautiful. And for the first time, she was filled with an enormous pride for who she was--what she was, all of it. That pride filled the spaces between her bones so that it was impossible not to stand tall. Anxiety makes everything feel very big or very small, depending on which is more hurtful in the moment. Being suddenly relived of anxiety in this moment gave her a clear understanding that this was the life she had been running towards. Not necessarily New Orleans, not a distant dot on a map, not a brand-new career, but a life full of secret gardens