Magic is not a science. It does not sleep in complex formulae, it is not a phrase or a number or a symbol written in griffon's blood or dragon's ichor.
Magic is not a belief. It is not a devout prayer or an unholy oath. It is not scripture on gilt vellum or blasphemies scrawled on torn, blood spattered flesh.
Magic is the lifeblood of the universe, a vast cool ocean cradling and saturating every stone and every living being. Magic is the heat of the flame, it is winter's first chill, it is the currents which stir the sea and the rains which set the flowers to bloom. Magic is a dragon's heart, the beating of a fairy's wing, and a baby's first breath.
Magic is a sorcerer's every thought and motion.