I've always found the most haunting lines come from quieter moments, not the big magical showdowns. In Susanna Clarke's 'Piranesi,' the protagonist thinks, 'The Beauty of the House is immeasurable; its Kindness infinite.' It's not flashy, but it reframes his entire, bizarre world. He's trapped, yet he sees kindness in the stones themselves. That idea—finding profound meaning and grace within confinement—sticks with me more than any epic incantation.
Another one that rattles around my head is from 'The Ocean at the End of the Lane' by Neil Gaiman. The narrator says, 'Grown-ups don't look like grown-ups on the inside either.' It's framed within a story of ancient, magical beings, but it cuts to the core of a very human supernatural feeling: the persistent, childish wonder and terror we all carry, disguised by adult faces. It makes the magical elements feel less like escapism and more like a truer layer of reality we've just forgotten how to see.