Jesteśmy społecznością, która kocha książki

You cast spells every day. Your make-up is glamour magic. Hiding and highlighting. The clothes you pick out to make your legs look longer, your waist smaller. The red you wear for confidence; the black when you're sad, the blue for clarity. Your favourite bra. Your lucky socks. The way you take an hour on your hair. It's a ritual. It's never just about clothes, or make-up, or perfectly messy buns. It's about magic.

Does that mean that every first kiss with a new person is also a loss?' he asks in an almost-whisper, his arm on my knees, his face just below mine.
'I guess it must,' I tell him.
'Then not all loses are bad'.

Don't be silly. It's not just the spellbook. We're all magic. Magic's all around us, all the time.

Can we trust anyone really?' I say, trying to keep my voice light. 'With our hearts?

I think you can trust that lost heart of yours.

If you don't get lost, you'll never be found.

Be careful what you bargain with:
Every lost thing requires a sacrifice-
A new loss for every called thing found.

What will you let go of?
What can you afford to lose?
Consider carefully before you cast the calling:
It may not be for you to choose.

Be careful what you wish for:
Not all lost things should be found.