47 Quotes by Katherine Howe

A thin stream of smoke drifted skyward, speaking of mysteries within.

The only constant was change.

Her fingertips stumbled over the key she’d found years ago. She liked having it. A fib for the chain. Or a talisman. A reminder that secrets can sometimes be discovered when one looks closely at ordinary things.

It could be that the best thing is something different from what you expect.

It crumbled apart into ash, going from form to formlessness. To everything, it’s season. The pine cone grew into being, burned bright, and now it had disappeared. That was natural.

I was impressed. She had already mastered the art of not saying much of anything at all.

Daffodils, first sign of spring. It’s how you know everything is about to change.

Every memory we have changes slightly each time we think about it. We add stuff we learn in other places, or we forget stuff that doesn’t seem important anymore. Or you think you remember something, like from your childhood, but actually you’ve just seen so many pictures of it, and your parents have told you about it, so you think you remember it, but you don’t. A memory is a process. Instead of a thing. Like a story we tell ourselves that changes from the standpoint we’re looking at it.

Most conjure doesn’t really deal with the weather. It’s about the house, or the body. Luck, and love. Money, obviously. And fixing enemies. It’s about power for the self, and influence over others. Charms get delivered by washes for the floor, or bath salts for the body. Candle work. Bible work. It’s small and personal.