Water Magic Quotes

“May yours be the sparkle of light on the ocean,
The whisper of foam on the sea,
The warm sand guiding your feet safely home,
A pebble in your pocket from me.

Some sea glass, a starfish, some driftwood, a whelk,
Treasures washed up on the shore.
A flower, a feather, an urchin, a pearl,
Keep your eyes open for more.

May you know yourself held in the palm of Her hand,
Blessed by the waves wild and free,
Blown by the wind, anointed with salt,
Beloved of She of the Sea.”
― Lucy H. Pearce, She of the Sea

“Cool water foamed over my toes, distracting me from the bird. For a moment I closed my eyes at the ecstasy of salt water on skin, at the persuasive music of the waves. The feeling was magic. Pure, powerful, irresistible magic.”
― Louisa Morgan, The Witch's Kind

“REGISTRO DEGLI INCANTESIMI MARINI

REGISTER OF INCANTATIONS PRACTICED BY THE STREGHE, OR SEA WITCHES, OF AMALFI

incantesimo di riflusso An incantation to urge water away (ebb). Attrezzo:a belemnite fossil.
incantesimo di flusso An incantation to draw water forth (flow). Attrezzo: a mother-of-pearl shell.
incantesimo divinatorio An incantation to discern the location of items in the water. Attrezzo: a strand of six sea-derived hagstones.
incantesimo raffreddare An incantation to lower the temperature of the water via a cold-water column. Attrezzo: a dried Chondrichthyes eggsack, or "mermaid's purse."
incantesimo dell'elemento An incantation to alter the composition of the water. Attrezzo: a fossilized sawfish snout, or "mermaid's comb."
incantesimo vorticeAn incantation to conjure a maelstrom or whirlpool. No attrezzo required.
vortice centuriaria An incantation to conjure a powerful maelstrom or whirlpool enduring for one hundred years. No attrezzo required, but the strega must remove her protective cimaruta necklace to perform this incantation.”
― Sarah Penner, The Amalfi Curse

“As they entered the cave’s opening, the two young girls gasped in unison: the water inside was a radiant sapphire color.
Once she had the gozzo situated toward the back, Mari leaned over in the boat and plunged her hand beneath the blue depths, feeling for the cave wall. She touched something spongy and soft, bringing it to the surface. It was a clump of sea algae. She held it out for Lia, pointing to a cluster of tiny spheres, resembling yellow bubbles, hidden among the algae. Fish eggs.
“How many?” Pippa asked, leaning forward.
Mari squinted in the low light, counting. “Hundreds,” she said, feeling pleased.
“Because of the incantesimo dell’elemento?” Lia asked, fumbling over the words. “The one where we use the dried-up fish snout?”
“Close,” Mari replied, “but not quite. For this, there is no need to change the composition of the water. Only the temperature of it, which is the incantesimo raffreddare.” Such cold-water spells resulted in good conditions for breeding. It also attracted tiny organisms, which meant food for larger fish. “Do you remember which tool that spell requires?”
Lia frowned for a moment. “The mermaid’s purse.”
“Right.” Mari nodded. “The shark egg-sack.”
― Sarah Penner, The Amalfi Curse

“My heart opened, and Lake water rushed in.
I had always known that my mother was the Lady of the Lake. I had seen the way the waters responded to her, the way she drew power from its depths, the its light and shade flickered in her eyes when she cast spells. I had never fully realized what that meant. I felt its magic now, flooding every vein and capillary, seething luminous and cool under my skin. My lungs were filled with water, and yet I had no need to breathe. My hair ruffled with the wind off the waves.
This was my magic, in a way that none had ever been before. I wasn’t borrowing it, or bending it to my will. It was my legacy, part of my blood. I had never felt like my mother’s daughter— I had been a tool to her, conceived and fashioned for a single purpose, aching to be more. Here, at the end of her life, I was. It all took only a moment— the space of a sigh— and yet in that moment everything shifted.”
― H.G. Parry, The Witch Below the Dreaming Wood

“Mother, I said, and her lips curved in the smile, young and playful and clever, that I had made Viviane’s.
Then her head fell back, and the magic she was holding flooded from her hand.
My heart opened, and Lake water rushed in.
I had always known that my mother was the Lady of the Lake. I had seen the way the waters responded to her, the way she drew power from its depths, the way its light and shade flickered in her eyes when she cast spells. I had never fully realized what that meant. I felt its magic now, flooding every vein and capillary, seething luminous and cool under my skin. My lungs were filled with water, and yet I had no need to breathe. My hair ruffled with the wind off the waves.
This was my magic, in a way that none had ever been before. I wasn’t borrowing it, or bending it to my will. It was my legacy, part of my blood. I had never felt like my mother’s daughter— I had been a tool to her, conceived and fashioned for a single purpose, aching to be more. Here, at the end of her life, I was. It all took only a moment— the space of a sigh— and yet in that moment everything shifted.”
― H.G. Parry, The Witch Below the Dreaming Wood