“Like wine, Provençal magic had its own distinctive terroir. It was rich and chaotic and romantic. It was a night-magic, confabulated out of moons and silver, wine and blood, knights and fairies, wind and rivers and forests. It concerned itself with good and evil but also with the vast intermediate realm in between, the realm of mischief.”

“Curing RM is in the realm of magical pixies and talking dogs that piss whiskey. It's impossible.”

“Magic, madam, is like wine and, if you are not used to it, it will make you drunk.”

“Traveling together into what the poet Adrienne Rich has called ‘the cratered night of female memory,’ they undertook a shared process of self-discovery, working together to probe the possibility of woman’s creative power. Through their exploration of hermetic and magical paths, they developed a common pictorial language, derived from the realms of domestic life, the fairy tale and the dream.”

“The rich want good wine, the poor, plenty of wine.”

“Water be wine,” I said, not thinking and distracted by the surge of magic. “Tears of the heavens, become fruit of the vine.”I felt more than saw Silla and Reese hesitate.But I kept going. “Water be wine. Water be wine. Blood from my body, the power is mine. Water be wine.”With a silent clap of energy, the entire bowl of water transformed into dark wine.”