To blow and to swallow at the same time is not easy; I cannot at the same time be here and also there.

The believer in magic and miracles reflects on how to impose a law on nature—and, in brief, the religious cult is the outcome of this reflection.

Everything that deceives does so by casting a spell.

Any serious attempt to do anything worthwhile is ritualistic.

Curses are like young chickens, they always come home to roost.

The Mughal’s nature is such that they demand miracles, but if a miracle were to be performed by some upright follower of our religion, they would say that it had been brought about by magic and sorcery. They would strike him down with spears or would stone him to death.

A miracle entails a degree of irrationality—not because it shocks reason, but because it makes no appeal to it.

Nothing is so easy as to deceive one’s self; for what we wish, that we readily believe.

The subconscious is ceaselessly murmuring, and it is by listening to these murmurs that one hears the truth.

The fear of the Lord is true wisdom, and he who hath it not can in no way penetrate the true secrets of magic.

To ensure the adoration of a theorem for any length of time, faith is not enough; a police force is needed as well.

The most beautiful emotion we can experience is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of all true art and science.

I shall curse you with book and bell and candle.