Magicians do not exist

And you? Do you believe in magic? I know I'm not a child anymore, but I always remember my lost innocence. And you?

The Poet is like the prince of the clouds,
Haunting the tempest
and laughing at the archer;
Exiled on earth amongst the shouting people,
His giant's wings hinder him from walking.

She was the primeval ocean and she emerged as herself of herself and all has come forth through and from her. She is self existent, and her nature is secret, a mystery to all.

— Egyptian Book of the Dead (via vijara)

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