Juju Quotes

You can no longer see or identify yourself solely as a member of a tribe, but as a citizen of a nation of one people working toward a common purpose.

I have bad car juju." -Stephanie Plum

I've sucked way too much cement for this year. Bad juju rising off them city sidewalks. I need to babble with a brook or two, inhale starlight, make friends with some trees.

Most people write me off when they see me. They do not know my story. They say I am just an African. They judge me before they get to know me. What they do not know is The pride I have in the blood that runs through my veins; The pride I have in my rich culture and the history of my people; The pride I have in my strong family ties and the deep connection to my community; The pride I have in the African music, African art, and African dance; The pride I have in my name and the meaning behind it. Just as my name has meaning, I too will live my life with meaning. So you think I am nothing? Don’t worry about what I am now, For what I will be, I am gradually becoming. I will raise my head high wherever I go Because of my African pride, And nobody will take that away from me.

I have been around long enough to discount most superstitions for what they are: I was around when many of them began to take root, after all. But one superstition to which I happen to subscribe is that bad juju comes in threes. The saying in my time was, "Storm clouds are thrice cursed," but I can't talk like that and expect people to believe I'm a twenty-one year-old American. I have to say things like, "Shit happens, man.

Words have power? That sounds like you're into some Harry Potter juju.

Juju is not enough to protect you. Everything you have I will turn against you. I'll turn sugar bitter for you. I'll take your very shield and crack it on your head.

Mother Mary of Anabolic Grace, we got Teras incoming?” He levels angry blue eyes on me. “You’re a hex, lady, dark luck, powerful bad juju, ken?” “Only to people who try to kidnap me,” I tell him sweetly, and March snorts, so I feel obliged to add, “Or rescue me…” And then Dina makes a pfft sound. “Or who travel with me…” My gaze sweeps around the darkened interior, trying to find an ally, but nobody will hold my eyes more than two seconds, it seems. “Fine, frag you all, I’m dark juju, bad luck, and you’re all doomed.

You once told me you could stand many things.” My voice was raspy from all the emotions battering against those well-honed inner defenses. “So can I. I can stand whatever Apollyon dishes out, can take the bigotry from others over what I am, the freaky ghost juju from Marie, all the craziness my mother can throw at me, and even the pain of my uncle dying. But the one thing that I would never, ever recover from would be losing you. You made me promise before to go on if that happened, but Bones”—here my words broke and tears spilled down my cheeks—“I wouldn’t want to.” He’d been near the side of the bed when I started talking, but was in my arms before the first tear fell. Very softly, his lips brushed over those wet streaks, coming back pink from the drops still shimmering on them. “No matter what happens, you will never lose me,” he whispered. “I am forever yours, Kitten, in this life or the next.

The left one's the hospital, the right one's death. The right one steals your life while the left steals your breath. These hands are bad juju and the bad boogaloo, they're the teeth of the demon as he slides down the flue.

Nothing softens the wounds of your ancestors like the sweetness of your existence.

I think he had no notion how little an effect the word sin had on me. He might as well have said, "Homosexuality is bad juju

The first man, Zac, rolled his eyes, "I wasn't going to eat her, brother, if that's what you're thinking. She's a witch and I don't want her to cast any witchy juju spell on me.

Do not take juju lightly, unless you are looking for unexpected death.

Not committing the so-called deadly sins is not enough to avoid bad juju in this life, or the next. Those everyday little wrongdoings, like ingratitude, unkindness, and entitlement, are hefty cornerstones of karmic debt.

You are divine. You are rich. You have good juju as you have inherited the greatest inheritance there is. You have the power to shift worlds and bend them to your will. Accept your ancestral inheritance now. You are heiress to a rich heritage of divine prosperity.

This is not just primitive rural superstition; [juju] is practiced by all kinds of people, from illiterate herd boys to multi-dregreed university professors. If you don't understand the power of this belief, you will never truly grasp the rich albeit often incomprehensible spirituality of Africa.

Our film industry, must cease portraying us as a nation of decayed values, fallen moralities and juju-obsessed people.

You're a nice man, Steve. So kind. I'm going to tell my grandmother to pray for you." And I hope he can see in my face that I just sprinkled the juju of a spiteful Puerto Rican grandmother all over his life.

Canned shtick—Pete gleeful: ‘The left one's the hospital, the right one's death. The right one steals your life while the left steals your breath. These hands are bad juju and the bad boogaloo, they're the teeth of the demon as he slides down the flue.

To lovers out there … Stop using witchcraft, traditional doctor herbs, juju or any herbs to get love, marriage or to be loved. Stop bewitching your partners to love you, to stay with you and to be loyal to you. You will regret big time. To be loved or to get married It’s someone free will and its nature. No one should be forced to do it. When you fight nature , you don’t win.

I think juju was worked on us at our Eleventh Rite. It’s . . . probably broken with marriage.” I looked hard at Luyu. “I think if you force intercourse, you’ll die.” “It is broken with marriage,” Diti said nodding. “My cousin always talks about how only a pure woman attracts a man pure enough to bring pleasure to the marriage bed. She says her husband is the purest man around . . . probably because he was the first who didn’t bring her pain.” “Ugh,” Luyu said, angrily. “We’re tricked into thinking our husbands are gods.

Mae?” Mom’s voice rises over the noise. “Mm?” I look up, realizing again that everyone is watching me. Apparently, I’ve missed a direct question. Her brows furrow. “Are you okay, honey?” With horror, I realize my entire face and neck are flushed. “Yeah, sorry, was just chowing on my dinner.” Theo leans on his elbows. “I called Professor Plum, and you didn’t even blink.” “Oh.” I wave my fork. “I’ll be whoever’s left.” I can feel the ripples of shock make their way around the table. I am laid-back about few things, it’s true, and none of those things are Professor Plum. Like any self-respecting woman of twenty-six, I take my Clue very seriously. And yet. “What’s the big deal, guys?” I ask. “Sometimes a little change is good.” • • • I’ll have you know that Colonel Mustard won Clue tonight, and Professor Plum is already off to bed, pouting that not only did I take the good luck juju with me to a new character, but Professor Plum himself was the murderer, in the conservatory, with the rope. I don’t think Theo enjoys my victory dance, but Andrew sure seems to.

Deceiving grandmothers makes for bad juju.

It wasn't Juju this time, it might be that bigdome Gosse, or any of them; no difference; they all bleated baa.

A double whammy of bad juju.

Last night a soothsayer said I would take my life and pull it into a greatness that would make my shadow tremor and ask Am I worthy of following her?

There are thousands of names for them, in every culture—mana, psychic energy, totem, juju, chi, bioethereal power, the Force, the soul. It’s an incredibly complex system of interweaving energy that influences good old Mother Earth around us, but it all boils down to a fairly simple concept: Shit happens.

all modern science grew from [juju] and still is nothing more than juju with diagrams and longer words.

A diferencia del resto del país, en Juju no vi las multiformas de edificios, las colmenas donde viven los asalariados, los enjambres de neón. En esta isla volcánica las palmas se mueven al ritmo del incansable viento que llega del desierto de Gobi...

Juju must hang clear of ground,’ he said. M’Carthi gave an order, and three black bucks leaped to obey it. They tied a rope of woven vines around the juju and one of them shinned up the tree and passed the rope over a limb; the other two hoisted the juju

Helping others heal is a path to self healing Aspire to Inspire.

Aspire to Inspire.

Juiced then she did,” said Firkin, teeth clattering around the words. Yellow, they might be, but Firkin had a surprisingly large number of teeth given his lifestyle. “Put the juju in their minds and their guts. Full of piss and fire. And fiery piss. Though there’s an ointment for that.” He nodded to himself, mop of hair flopping back and forth with the motion. “Good ‘un that is.

JU-JU: Que pergunta! Tenho muitos nomes. Os filhos chamam-me mãe. Os pais chamam-me filha. Os progressistas, Vitima dos tubarões e os tubarões chamam-me um figo. E tudo isto por dez reis de mel coado. BONAMI-REI: És uma boa rapariga. Quantas vezes abriste as pernas? JU-JU: Essa é boa! Uma só, pois que nunca as cheguei a fechar.

Sunny breathed a sigh of relief. “Anyway, being a Leopard Person is not genetic, really,” Chichi continued. “It’s spiritual. The spiritual affects the physical. . .. It’s complicated. All you need to know is that Leopard People tend to keep it in the family. But sometimes it skips and jumps, like with you. It sounds like your grandmother was of Leopard spirit. By the way, all this is in that book I just helped you buy. So read it.” “Oh, I plan to. Go on.” “So Leopard Knocks is the main West African headquarters,” she said. “Sasha, where’s the headquarters in the United States?” Sasha smirked. “New York, of course. But I don’t consider that place the head of anything. It doesn’t represent black folks. We are a minority, I guess. As a matter of fact—everything’s biased toward European juju. The African American headquarters is on the Gullah Islands in South Carolina. We call it Tar Nation.” Sunny laughed. “Nice name.” “We try,” Sasha said proudly. “You know how you had to be initiated to come here?” Chichi asked. “Yeah.” “Well, because we have Leopard parents, Orlu and I have been able to come here all our lives. We knew our spirit faces, so we could cross. We both went through the first level, the initiation, two years ago. It’s called Ekpiri,” she said. “Most go through it around fourteen or fifteen.” “But I’m twelve,” Sunny said. “Yeah, you’re early,” Chichi said. “So was Orlu.

that night filling potholes along one of the smaller village roads. They’d used a dirt moving and packing juju that Anatov had taught them that very night. For days, Sunny was digging muck from beneath her nails and sweeping dirt from her bedroom.

The second I sit down at the table, Juju jumps in my lap, purrs. Charles grimaces. "The gros con actually likes you." "We had a rough start, but we're friends now," I say as Charles reaches out to pet Juju's head. Juju hisses and I say Good kitty in my head. "And he clearly hates you." I whisper to Juju, "Did you just call him a gros con too? I agree.

I don't know why my mother insisted on giving us two of Jezebel's kittens as a housewarming gift. Who is going to watch them?" "Not a problem. Oded already offered. And they're Juju's kittens too." "Exactly," he says with a shudder. "Well, Keanu is adorable and Katniss is---" "Trouble. I caught her climbing the curtains the other day.

Bad Ju-ju or not, just because Phil accused me of fucking him. I was going too. No need to make a liar out of him.

Deprive a cat of sleep and it would die in two weeks. Deprive a human and he would become psychotic. His work was killing people. How was he supposed to frighten these guys? Run up behind them in a halloween mask and shout boo? He never saw the point of views -- what did it matter if it was an ocean or a brick wall you were looking at? People travelled hundreds, sometimes thousands of miles to commit suicide someplace with a beautiful view. Did a view matter when oblivion beckoned? They could put him in a garbage bin after he was gone, for all he cared. That's all the human race was anyway. Garbage with attitude. A cutting word is worse than a bowstring. A cut may heal but a cut of the tongue does not. The Sakawa students were all from poor, underprivileged backgrounds. Sakawa was a mix of religious juju and modern internet technology. They were taught, in structured classes, the art of online fraud as well as arcane African rituals -- which included animal sacrifice -- to have a voodoo effect on their victims, ensuring the success of each fraud. of which there was a wide variety. The British Empire spend five hundred years plundering the world. The word is 'thanks'. 'That's what it is, Roy! He won't come out, he has locked the doors! What if he self-harms, Roy! I mean -- what if he kills himself?' 'I will have to take him off my Christmas list.' "Any chance you can recover any of it?' 'You sitting near a window, Gerry?' 'Near a window? Sure, right by a window?' 'Can you see the sky?' 'Uh-huh. Got a clear view.' 'See any pigs flying past?' To dream of death is good for those in fear, for the death have no more fears. '...Cleo took me to the opera once. I spent the whole time praying for a fat lady to come on stage and start singing. Or a heart attack --whichever come sooner.' '..there is something strongly powerful -- almost magnetic -- about internet romances. A connection that is far stronger than a traditional meeting of two people. Maybe because on the internet you can lie all the time, each person gives the other their good side. It's intoxicating. That's one of the things which makes it so dangerous -- and such easy pickings for fraudsters.' He was more than a little pleased that he was about to ruin his boss's morning -- and, with a bit of luck, his entire day. ..a guy who had been born angry and had just got even angrier with each passing year. '...Then at some point in the future, I'll probably die in an overcrowded hospital corridor with some bloody hung-over medical student jumping up and down on my chest because they couldn't find a defibrillator. 'Give me your hand, bro,' the shorter one said. 'That one, the right one, yeah.' On the screen the MasterChef contestant said, 'Now with a sharp knife...' Jules de Copland drove away from Gatwick Airport in.a new car, a small Kia, hired under a different name and card, from a different rental firm, Avis. 'I was talking about her attitude. But I'll tell you this, Roy. The day I can't say a woman -- or a man -- is plug ugly, that's the day I want to be taken out and shot.' It seems to me the world is in a strange place where everyone chooses to be offended all the time. 'But not too much in the way of brains,' GlennBranson chipped in. 'Would have needed the old Specialist Search Unite to find any trace of them.' 'Ever heard of knocking on a door?' 'Dunno that film -- was it on Netflix?' 'One word, four letters. Begins with an S for Sierra, ends with a T for Tango. Or if you'd like the longest version, we've been one word, six letters, begins with F for Foxtrot, ends with D for Delta.' No Cop liked entering a prison. In general there was a deep cultural dislike of all police officers by the inmates. And every officer entering.a prison, for whatever purposes, was always aware that if a riot kicked off while they were there, they could be both an instant hostage and a prime target for violence.

Deprive a cat of sleep and it would die in two weeks. Deprive a human and he would become psychotic. His work was killing people. How was he supposed to frighten these guys? Run up behind them in a halloween mask and shout boo? He never saw the point of views -- what did it matter if it was an ocean or a brick wall you were looking at? People travelled hundreds, sometimes thousands of miles to commit suicide someplace with a beautiful view. Did a view matter when oblivion beckoned? They could put him in a garbage bin after he was gone, for all he cared. That's all the human race was anyway. Garbage with attitude. A cutting word is worse than a bowstring. A cut may heal but a cut of the tongue does not. The Sakawa students were all from poor, underprivileged backgrounds. Sakawa was a mix of religious juju and modern internet technology. They were taught, in structured classes, the art of online fraud as well as arcane African rituals -- which included animal sacrifice -- to have a voodoo effect on their victims, ensuring the success of each fraud. of which there was a wide variety. The British Empire spend five hundred years plundering the world. The word is 'thanks'. 'That's what it is, Roy! He won't come out, he has locked the doors! What if he self-harms, Roy! I mean -- what if he kills himself?' 'I will have to take him off my Christmas list.' "Any chance you can recover any of it?' 'You sitting near a window, Gerry?' 'Near a window? Sure, right by a window?' 'Can you see the sky?' 'Uh-huh. Got a clear view.' 'See any pigs flying past?' To dream of death is good for those in fear, for the death have no more fears. '...Cleo took me to the opera once. I spent the whole time praying for a fat lady to come on stage and start singing. Or a heart attack --whichever come sooner.' '..there is something strongly powerful -- almost magnetic -- about internet romances. A connection that is far stronger than a traditional meeting of two people. Maybe because on the internet you can lie all the time, each person gives the other their good side. It's intoxicating. That's one of the things which makes it so dangerous -- and such easy pickings for fraudsters.' He was more than a little pleased that he was about to ruin his boss's morning -- and, with a bit of luck, his entire day. ..a guy who had been born angry and had just got even angrier with each passing year. '...Then at some point in the future, I'll probably die in an overcrowded hospital corridor with some bloody hung-over medical student jumping up and down on my chest because they couldn't find a defibrillator. 'Give me your hand, bro,' the shorter one said. 'That one, the right one, yeah.' On the screen the MasterChef contestant said, 'Now with a sharp knife...' Jules de Copland drove away from Gatwick Airport in.a new car, a small Kia, hired under a different name and card, from a different rental firm, Avis. 'I was talking about her attitude. But I'll tell you this, Roy. The day I can't say a woman -- or a man -- is plug ugly, that's the day I want to be taken out and shot.' It seems to me the world is in a strange place where everyone chooses to be offended all the time. 'But not too much in the way of brains,' GlennBranson chipped in. 'Would have needed the old Specialist Search Unite to find any trace of them.' 'Ever heard of knocking on a door?' 'Dunno that film -- was it on Netflix?' 'One word, four letters. Begins with an S for Sierra, ends with a T for Tango. Or if you'd like the longest version, we've been one word, six letters, begins with F for Foxtrot, ends with D for Delta.' No Cop liked entering a prison. In general there was a deep cultural dislike of all police officers by the inmates. And every officer entering.a prison, for whatever purposes, was always aware that if a riot kicked off while they were there, they could be both an instant hostage and a prime target for violence.

sometimes things are not what they appear to be even when you’re looking right at it.

You learn something once, and it’s yours for life.

when you walk through your front door—leave that cold harsh world out on the other side. For your home is your peace—and

Most people often lash out at those who embody certain traits that they don’t like about themselves.

worry—be happy—one day you too will be a wife. You see, the man that I have for you, I’ve already chosen. And I will give him to you, as soon as your heart is unfrozen.

you still can’t tell the difference between a penny and a dime,

Oh, Lord, a ghost story. I hated and dreaded the long winter nights when late customers came to the Store to sit around the heater roasting peanuts and trying to best each other in telling lurid tales of ghosts and hants, banshees and juju, voodoo and other anti-life stories.

Don’t ever mix juju with technology. There is witchcraft in science and a science to witchcraft. Both will conspire against you eventually.

Helping others heal is a path to self healing.

You’re a good watcher, anyway, I’ll tell you that for nothing, old boy. Us singles always are, no one to rely on, what? No one else spotted me. Gave me a real turn up there, parked on the horizon. Thought you were a juju man. Best watcher in the unit, Bill Roach is, I’ll bet. Long as he’s got his specs on. What?

If you are using herbs, juju, witchcraft, love spell or potion on your partner. Know that you are committing Gender Base Violence ( GBV )

Milky Way, AirHeads, Mars bars, Twix, Kit Kat, Chunky, mr. Goodbar, York Peppermint Patties, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, Mike and Ike, Atomic FireBall, JuJu Fish, Sour Neon Worms, Goobers, Laffy Taffy, Nerds, Sugar Daddy, Baby Ruth, Snickers, Kisses, M & M’s (plain and peanut), gummi bears, Dots, Junior Mints, Milk Duds, Good & Plenty, Whoppers, Twizzlers, Dum Dum, Skittles, Butterfinger, Starburst, Crunch, Jolly Rancher, Sweet Pops, Tootsie Roll….

He kissed me again and quietly, carefully, softly, he spoke the words that few women ever hear from a man. “Ifunanya.” They’re ancient words. They don’t exist among any other group of people. There is no direct translation in Nuru, English, Sipo, or Vah. This word only has meaning when spoken by a man to the one he loves. A woman can’t use the word unless she is barren. It is not juju. Not in the way that I know it. But the word has strength. It’s wholly binding if it is true and the emotion reciprocated. This is not like the word “love.” A man can tell a woman he loves her every day. Ifunanya is spoken only once in a man’s life. Ifu means to “look into,” “n” means “the,” and anya means “eyes”. The eyes are the window to the soul.

The system worked because felons and misdemeanants plead guilty most of the time and did not file nuisance appeals routinely. The system worked because pre-breakdown jail time was doable. Criminals were pre-psychologized. They accepted authority. They knew they were lowlife scum because they saw it on TV and read it in the papers. They were locked into a rigged game. Authority usually won. They took pleasure in picayune triumphs and reveled in the game’s machinations. The game was insiderism. Insiderism and fatalism were hip. If you stayed shy of the gas chamber, the worst you’d get was penitentiary time. Pre-breakdown joint time was doable. You could drink pruno and fuck sissies in the ass. The system worked because America was yet to buck race riots and assassinations and environmental bullshit and gender confusion and drug proliferation and gun mania and religious psychoses linked to a media implosion and an emerging cult of victimhood—a 25-year transit of divisive bad juju that resulted in a stultifying mass skepticism.

Garrance winks as Juju jumps onto my lap. "It appears that Juju likes you too." Feeling out of sorts, I stroke the cat's head, look down at him. He's weighing my thighs down, and I like the way it feels, all warm. I also love his loud purrs. He's nothing like a rat. "The big lug is kind of growing on me," I say, stroking his chin, and Garrance grins.

We round the frangipani, coming face-to-face with two peacocks---one male, with magnificent iridescent plumage sparkling in royal blues, greens, and golden browns, not to mention the circular eyespots, his crown a crest of feathers resembling a helmet. The female, although beautiful, has drabber plumage and a short tail. Garrance beams as the large birds greet her like dogs. "Meet Yin and Yang," she says, and Juju rolls onto his back. "These two are the only ones who tolerate Juju and vice versa." "Maybe because they don't call him names," I say with a laugh, and Garrance joins me.

This is my cat, Juju," the woman says, noting my obvious confusion, maybe even my fear. "He's my good luck charm." "Uh, yeah," I say, backing away ever so slightly. That's some collar. I love the rhinestones. Trés chic." "Rhinestones? Don't be silly. I buy all his accessories from a jeweler. His collar is from Catier. As they say, diamonds are a cat's best friend." My upper lip twitches. Nobody has ever said that. And I'm pretty sure she means Cartier. She blows the cat a kiss, and I swear, if cats could smile, this one does, his giant face twisting with love or hunger. "He's huge," I say, watching his tail flick a bit menacingly. "He's a rare French breed, a Chartreux. He's just, how do you say? Big-boned?" She chortles out a laugh. "I really should put him on a regime like the vétérinaire said. He weighs nine kilos. Can you believe it? I strain my back when I try to pick him up. But he truly doesn't like les haricots verts or les courgettes. He's quite the gourmand." My head spins with confusion. I wonder, What cat would like green beans and zucchini? as I convert the math in my head. Her cat weighs around twenty pounds. And, apparently, he hates vegetables but adores his bling.

I must warn you, There is soft juju in my thighs.

It’s a book about how a toy rabbit wants to be real and tries to do it through the love of his owner. In the end, he finds out that he is the only one that can make himself real. That’s you. You’re the velveteen rabbit, Noah. Juju read it to me at the store and I knew I had to get it for you.” “Bran, this is such a great gift. Thank you.” “I know Father is hard on us. But I also know that we always find our way. We have each other. That’s all that matters. I don’t care what Father says. Mother doesn’t speak. It’s you and Jos that I care about, Noah. That’s all that matters to me.” “Thanks, Bran. I’ll cherish this forever.” “The book says once you are real, you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand you. I promise that no matter what, I’ll always understand, Noah.

The system worked because America was yet to buck race riots and assassinations and environmental bullshit and gender confusion and drug proliferation and gun mania and religious psychoses linked to a media implosion and an emerging cult of victimhood—a 25-year transit of divisive bad juju that resulted in a stultifying mass skepticism.

Do not take juju lightly, unless you are looking for unexpected death. Juju cartwheels between these pages like dust in a sandstorm. We don’t care if you are afraid. We don’t care if you think this book will bring you good luck. We don’t care if you are an outsider. We just care that you read this warning and are thus warned. This way, you have no one to blame but yourself if you enjoy this story.

This Okedare isle bears truthful myths Of the sacred mountain many only wonder The juju mountain of jebba, so famed the town’s terror Where few returns if ever threads

Charming, go forth and spread thy seed fruitfully. Juju, you've got a little something right..." I smacked his head lightly. "There! All better. You, Dreads, keep an eye on those balls before they get snipped. Ah, and you, just keep it classy, dude.

You know the kind of shame it will bring to your family if you don’t have a husband. It’s better you stay here and make it work, adapt to our customs. Welcome my second wife when she comes. Behave with some dignity and don’t embarrass me. It will be good for Juju to have a little brother in the house.

There was enough bad juju going around, and now that I’d found him—or rather, he had hunted me down—I wasn’t ready to let him go.

Now, when I say “exiled” I'm not referring to the old superstition about Adam and Eve getting kicked out of the Garden of Eden, and now we're all under some kind of bad ju-ju from an abusive creator. And I'm certainly not talking about that obscene and perverted doctrine known as original sin. Whoever the ignorant, woman-hating, insecure, irrational, terrified, guilt-ridden, diabolical, self-despising horse's ass was who came up with that diseased and malevolent concept should have been thrown into the Nebuchadnezzar

I could hear the cicadas like a vortex of hundreds of tiny violins. I’d always hated them, too. Anytime cicadas showed up, bad juju lurked nearby.

Chang Chang suka main senter, Juju suka mengejar sinar senternya, Eomma! Oh ya, Juju itu perempuan, Chang Chang ingin punya bayi kucing biar ramai. Jadi kami mau cari kucing laki-laki.” -Cerita 2: Hyunnie and His Pet Proposal, TMHOLT hal.10-

I want to pour libation and summon the gods, undo what has been done, utter sacred words to quell the fires, reduce to cinders promises made. I want an assembly of diviners and sorcerers to chase away the evil spirits, to recapture the present once more. I therefore call upon each and every one of you, djinns with hideous faces, juju-makers with terrifying powers. Come from all directions. I want to make peace, escape through my pores, flee through my mouth and return to the earth. I need the spell that will erase memories.