Best 305 quotes in «fairy tale quotes» category

Under the thousand crystal candelabras I danced with ten elderly gentlemen who had nothing to say but did not let that stop them. I answered only, Indeed and Oh yes and Do you think so?

Unfortunately for him he looked more like an innocent man on America’s terror watch-list rather than a gallant Viking possessing all the benefits of modernity. More like a villain in a Western fairy tale with his slicked-bouffant obsidian hair rather than the long sun-like curls that all great saviors of the poor have been obliged to possess. I squinted to the side towards him for a second and he caught my gaze almost immediately; his inky irises were comfortable enough to hold my stare indefinitely, his pupils seemed entirely ravenous as opposed to the feminist preferred oceanic turquoise, which for them is a physical demarcation of emotional sensitivity. He seemed like an uncanny bad guy any which way I looked at him, except of course, by his actions thus far…

Usiwe na wasiwasi, Peter. Hizo ni hisia zangu tu. Huwezi kuwa mpelelezi. Lakini, kusema ule ukweli, ningependa sana kuonana na John Murphy. Kuna kazi binafsi ningependa kumpa. Wewe unatoka Afrika, hujawahi kumwona?” Debbie alizidi kumshtua Murphy. “Nani?” Murphy aliuliza huku akitabasamu. “John Murphy wa Afrika.” “Sijawahi kumwona. Mbona unamuulizia hivyo?” Debbie alitulia. Kisha akarusha nywele ili aone vizuri. “Nampenda sana!” “Kwa nini?” “Simpendi kwa mahaba, lakini.” “Ndiyo. Kwa nini?” “OK. Nampenda kwa kipaji chake. Alichopewa na Mungu, cha ujasusi. Kusaidia watu.” “Ahaa!” Murphy alidakia, sasa akifikiri sana. “Murphy ana mashabiki wengi hapa Meksiko bila yeye mwenyewe kujua, kwa sababu ya kupambana na wahalifu wa madawa ya kulevya – hasa wa huku Latino. Tatizo lake haonekani. Wengi hudhani ni hadithi tu, kwamba hakuna mtu kama huyo hapa duniani.” “Hapana! Murphy yupo! Ni mfanyabiashara maarufu huko Tanzania. Lakini ndiyo hivyo kama unavyosema ... Haonekani!

We have grown dull toward this world in which we live; we have forgotten that it is not normal or scientific in any sense of the word. It is fantastic. It is fairy tale through and through. Really now. Elephants? Caterpillars? Snow? At what point did you lose your wonder at it all?

When I am with you, I am invincible. When I am with you, your kind and loving presence strengthen me down to my very core. When I am with you, I finally know what heaven on earth feels like. For when I am with you, I am the best I could be. I'd rather walk through the burning coals of hell than enjoy comfort and luxury with someone else. For life without you, is not life at all. I love you.

We’ll hop home, as we hares have done since time immemorial.

What if Cinderella had been sent to kill the prince?" - Kayden

What magic is this?' the muse says to the man. 'A flower, a dream, a fairy-tale wish,' the man says to his muse. The muse smiles.

When a fairy tale ends a new one starts. Close your eyes and say ‘once upon a time’ with me; who knows we may catch the beginning of a fairy tale which will bless us with a happy ending.” By T. Afsin Ilgar - Ted`s Tale

When fiction has become reality, life may turn into a fairy tale or a firestorm. Tina, time has come to pull up one’s socks and start relearning and reassessing living. ("Another empty room")

Wistful notes spoke of loneliness, as solitary as the final birdsong of autumn or the trill of summer’s last cicada before the wintry freeze.

When we were little, Scarlett and I were utterly convinced that we'd originally been one person in our mother's belly. We believed that somehow, half of us wanted to be born and half wanted to stay. So our heart had to be broken in two so that Scarlett could be born first, and then I finally braved the outside world a few years later. It made sense, in our pig-tailed heads--it explained why, when we ran through grass or danced or spun in circle long enough, we would lose track of who was who and it started to feel as if there were some organic, elegant link between us, our single heart holding the same tempo and pumping the same blood. That was before the attack, though. Now our hearts link only when we're hunting, when Scarlett looks at me with a sort of beautiful excitement that's more powerful than her scars and then tears after a Fenris as though her life depends on its death. I follow, always, because it's the only time when our hearts beat in perfect harmony, the only time when I'm certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that we are one person broken in two.

When your legs and arms are being torn from your body, you console yourself that you've not yet been beheaded. Of course, right? When your nerves are being extracted strand by strand and your flesh is being dried drop by drop, you simply see past the blood and the bones and think: Hey, at least they haven't torn me apart at the cellular level yet. Unnerving logic.

Who wanted to grow up, when we had the heroes like batman and superman and we had this little tiny body to act with, like them. Alas, we all have that childish nature still in us, but it's all about how people would think of us.

Why are you so sad?" asks Zachariah in full fairy-tale voice, casting his arms wide for emphasis, displaying his superior reach.

Winter passed, and the world around began to wake. The birds returned to the kingdom and set about readying their nests, deer could be seen once more grazing where the fields met the woods, and buds burst forth upon the branches of the kingdom's trees.

Who am I kidding? This isn’t a fairy tale. It’s my life.

Who needs the fairy tale when crazy, messy, sexy reality with the woman I adore is a million times better?

... Więc ty masz serce, smoku?

Without your own inner beast tamed ye can never tame the wild ones around ye!

Wrath crawled out from the well, on direction from Hell, to get back what it once lost. With vengeance in mind, it set out to find, a specified soul to accost. When the Hell-well beckoned, Mother’s will now reckoned, her dead soul now wholly enslaved. Embodied in a rotting husk, the corpse reeked of putrid musk, her being wholly depraved.

You believe in love, just as a child believes in Santa Claus or a fairy tale.” “What is love then, if not a fairy tale meant for adults?

Yes sir, the fish was left in place of the crystal ball. It's been bagged and tagged for analysis.” Great. Now we have another red herring on our hands.

You don't get it. They gave me beauty and song, and then I was left in the woods to grow up for sixteen years before being handed over to you. I don't know anything about ruling. I don't even really know what taxes are. I was in the woods in the real world. In the dreamworld, I hid like a mouse and then organized balls and parties.

You're my prince charming. You always have been and always will be.

You want to know how to stop this killer? Forgive yourself, and he’ll disappear from your life forever.” “Thanks. I’ll be sure to do that.” And I know: 1. This is almost the same conversation I’ve had with myself many times before. 2. Gordon’s only trying to help. But it doesn’t matter. I: 1. Say, “See you later.” 2. Step outside. 3. Close the door. I don’t want to, really. I want to go back inside and believe Gordon’s words, like a child believing in a fairy tale, and I want to escape this nightmare forever. But I can’t. I realize now that it’s easy to tell the difference between a real problem and an imaginary one. It’s just the terror of facing the truth that’s hard.

...your heart spoke for you. You gave up everything for me.

You’re thinking, maybe it would be easier to let it slip let it go say ”I give up” one last time and give him a sad smile. You’re thinking it shouldn’t be this hard, shouldn’t be this dark, thinking love could flow easily with no holding back and you’ve seen others find their match and build something great together, of each other, like two halves fitting perfectly and now they achieve great things one by one, always together, and it seems grand. But you love him. Love him like a black stone in your chest you couldn’t live without because it fits in there. Makes you who you are and the thought of him gone—no more—makes your chest tighten up and maybe this is your fairytale. Maybe this is your castle. You could get it all on a shiny piece of glass with wooden stools and a neverending blooming garden but that’s not yours. This is yours. The cracks and the faults, the ugly words in the winter walking home alone and angry but falling asleep thinking you love him. This is your fairy tale. The quiet in the hallway, wishing for him to turn around, tell you to stay, tell you to please don’t go I need you like you need me and maybe it’s not a Jane Austen novel but this is your novel and your castle and you can run from it your whole life but this is here in front of you. Maybe nurture it? Sweet girl, maybe close the world off and look at him for an hour or two. This is your fairy. It ain’t perfect and it ain’t honey sweet with roses on the bed. It’s real and raw and ugly at times. But this is your love. Don’t throw it away searching for someone else’s love. Don’t be greedy. Instead, shelter it. Protect it. Capture every second of easy, pull through every storm of hardship. And when you can, look at him, lying next to you, trusting you not to harm him. Trusting you not to go. Be someone’s someone for someone. Be that someone for him. That’s your fairy tale. This is your castle. Now move in. Build a home. Build a house. Build a safety around things you love. It’s yours if you make it so. Welcome home, sweet girl, it will be all be fine.

All great novels are great fairy tales.

Actually everybody has a story, a fairy tale in their heart that they adhere to.

American cinema is international like the fairy tales were international.

A lot of fairy tales are thinly disguised hostility raps against parents. Kids know that they can't make it on their own, that if they were left alone, they would die.

Conservatives used to believe in confronting hard truths, not succumbing to comforting fairy tales. Some still do.

And now, I'm a best selling author, a different sort of fairy tale that I still sometimes wonder when I'll wake up from.

At the centre of every fairy tale lay a truth that gave the story its power

Chess is a fairy tale of 1001 blunders.

Chicago is partly a fairy tale because it's inside one person's head, so that part of it's made up and the rest of it is reality.

And our lady friend, she thinks life works like a fairy tale.' Well, that’s harmless, isn’t it?' Yeah, but in fairy tales, when someone dies... it’s just a word.

Do you believe in fairy tales?" "What...what kind of fairy tales?" "The kind you aren't supposed to waste your life on.

Deeper meaning resides in the fairy tales told to me in my childhood than in the truth that is taught by life.

Dragons and bridges are very much something out of fairy tales and fantasy.

Every constellation’s like its own fairy tale.

Even nightingales can’t be fed on fairy tales.

Fairy tales and myths are forms of cultural storage for the natural history of life.

Fairy tales only happen in movies." -George Melies from The Invention of Hugo Cabret

Fairy-tales are nice.

Everything that I have told you is, of course, a fairy tale. Life is magical, after all. Nothing is safe and everything changes.

Fairy tales are experienced by their hearers and readers, not as realistic, but as symbolic poetry.

Fairy Tales always have a happy ending.' That depends... on whether you are Rumpelstiltskin or the Queen.

Fairy tales are my natural language. I feel at ease telling fairy tales like a fish feels in water. I am totally free.