Best 930 quotes in «dragons quotes» category

A memory, long buried, sprang up of her father warning her never to cross the stream and go into the forest. "The Dragonwood," she mumbled. How could she have forgotten the Dragonwood? Her father had explained that it wasn't their land, and that dangerous animals lurked in the shadows.

Among the dragons, the prohibition against asking direct questions did not exist, and-as Harrier discovered immediately-dragons were even more outrageous gossips than sailors.

And here I thought that smile you wore was because of me.

And he read Principles of Accounting all morning, but just to make it interesting, he put lots of dragons in it.

And I guess I'm the assignment that will put you right with your family?" "Yes." "It's no' going to happen, lass." She turned her head to him. "Then why did you bring me with you tonight?" "Something I've been asking myself.

And not only the world but humanity itself does need dragons” “And why is that?” Chade demanded disdainfully. “To keep the balance,” the Fool replied. He glanced over me, and then past me, out of the window and his eyes went far and pensive. “Humanity fears no rivals. You have forgotten what it was to share the world with creatures as arrogantly superior as yourselves. You think to arrange the world to your liking. So you map the land and draw lines across it, claiming ownership simply because you can draw a picture of it. The plants that grow and the beasts that rove, you mark as your own, claiming not only what lives today, but what might grow tomorrow, to do with as you please. Then, in your conceit and aggression, you wage wars and slay one another over the lines you have imagined on the world’s face.” “And I suppose dragons are better than we are because they don’t do such things, because they simply take whatever they see. Free spirits, nature’s creatures, possessing all the moral loftiness that comes from not being able to think.” The Fool shook his head, smiling. “No. Dragons are no better than humans. They are little different at all from men. They will hold up a mirror to humanity’s selfishness. They will remind you that all your talk of owning this and claiming that is no more than the snarling of a chained dog or a sparrow’s challenge song. The reality of those claims lasts but for the instant of its sounding. Name it as you will, claim it as you will, the world does not belong to men. Men belong to the world. You will not own the earth that eventually your body will become, nor will it recall the name it once answered to.

And the Dragon Guard was born…

An enemy is always an enemy, even when they're an ally." - Taraeth

Anyway, it’s unthinkable! Dragons and knights are born enemies. They need to be enemies just like dogs hate cats, cats hate mice and mice hate scientists. Without somebody to hate where would all the hate go? The hate would just boil up inside you, eat away and cause you to have indigestion then a heart attack. We need to release the anger, and we release it on dragons who release it back on us. We slay them and they roast us. It is the natural order of things, Emma.

Apparently, she was going to visit an evil witch with a scary poet vampire.

Are the old ways good enough for you? Something hot welled up in Santa. She hurled it away before she learned what it meant. “No, I suppose not.” Then change is inevitable. “You’re wiser than you sound, you know.” Dragons are surprising creatures.

Är det vad vi är för varandra, kära du? Fiender?

Är du inte förtjust i klänningar?” ”Skämtar du med mig?” ”Jag tar det som ett nej.

Are ya glad to see me, or is that a roll of poker chips in your pants?

Are you going to eat him?" Samantha asked... Warrick struggled for a moment, but had to tell her the truth. "Yes..." "Can I watch? Samantha added. Warrick laughed, and it echoed through the cavern. She kept surprising him. "You're not eating him," his mother said, still irritated...."He's my steward," she continued. "I get to eat him.

Are you going to take me for a ride or kiss me?" He was going to do both, but the ride wasn't going to be in his car. Kiril released her. "Get in.

Are you going to threaten to kill anyone?" Vega asked dryly. Even though he knew she wasn't being completely serious, the truth was, he would kill someone if they attempted to harm her. "I won't threaten anyone." Which was the truth. If he had to act, he would just kill, not bother with meaningless threats.

Are you naked?" he rasped out. Swallowing hard, she nodded.

Arkadia wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head upon the muscular cliff face he called his chest.

Are we going to have a Christmas baby after all..?

Aryal whispered, "If I start slapping people, I might not be able to stop.

Asher," she begged. His lips brushed her ear before he nipped the lobe. "I have a fever. It's for you, a ghràidh." "You make me burn." "Then we'll burn together.

A ruse. That's all it was. Pretend to like this girl. Pretend to have feelings, to pursue some kind of relationship. Earn her friendship and trust, knowing I might have to destroy it, and her, in the end. It felt wrong. Dirty and underhanded, something they would do. But... I was a soldier, and this was my mission.

A ruse. That's all it was. Pretend to like this girl. Pretend to have feelings, to pursue some kind of relationship. Earn her friendship and trust, knowing I might have to destroy it, and her, in the end.

As I stated earlier, I do not believe there is anything inherently wrong with even the most overused elements of epic fantasy. Magic swords, dragons, destined heroes -- even dark lords and ultimate evils can legitimately be used in literature of serious intent, not just mocked in satirical meta-fiction. To claim that they cannot would be much the same as claiming that nothing good can ever again be done with fiction involving detectives, or young lovers, or unhappy families. The value of a fictive element is not an inherent quality, but a contextual one, determined by its relationship to the other elements of the story it is embedded in. In other words, whether a scene in which a dragon is introduced is affecting, amusing, or agonizingly dull depends primarily on the choices made by the scene's author. I say "primarily" because dragons have appeared in thousands of stories over the centuries, and almost any reader may be presumed to have been exposed to at least one such. The reader's reaction will naturally be influenced by how they feel this new dragon compares to the dragons which they have been introduced to in the past. (Favorably, one would hope. A dragon must learn to make a good first impression if it is to do well in this life.) Such variables are out of the author's control, as are any unreasoning prejudices against dragons on the part of the reader. All that can be done is to make the dragon as vivid and well-suited for its purpose as is possible. If all the elements of fantasy and fiction in a work are fitted to their purposes and combine to create a moving story set in a convincing world, that work will presumably be a masterpiece.

As in most fairy tales, there's a prince and a princess, dragons and some magic, and the feeling it gives you that anything is possible if we could stay this way forever.

As long as they were together, they could face anything. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel alone—and she knew he didn’t either.

As the dragon charged it released huge clouds of hissing steam through its nostrils. It was almost as if a gigantic teapot had gone mad.

As soon as he stood in front of her, she folded her arms and looked cross. "You don't have any gardening skills. You turned down a prestigious job to weed the garden? "I will be rewarded richly in treasures untold." She raised a brow. "I've heard dragon-shifters pay a lot of money to merchants and the like. "Aaagh, but you are also a dragon-shifter of a sort. Yes, but I am a gardener, which means I don't go on high-risk missions to earn my gold.

At least I know the truth,” I gritted back. “I’m not the one who’s being lied to.” His brow furrowed, and I spat the truth at him.

A story from beginning to end that might entertain, teach, or simply bore your listener. It's all in the delivery, my dear." He got a smug look on his face as he scooted his posterior deeper into the chair and took his pipe between his teeth. "I'm just better at it than most.

A story just isn't a story without a dragon.

At that moment, the creature's back breached the waves, its body cutting through the water in a sinuous arch, rainbows sparking off the iridescent scales on its back. Rusalye.

Avoid stress, the doctor had said. Eat lots of good food and enjoy this little mysterious bun cooking in the oven. Ha!

At the rate the Kings were finding mates, they were going to have to take turns eating supper because not everyone would fit at the table.

A wounded animal yet bears teeth

Because you're exactly like me- you don't want your whole life planned out. You're tired of following Talon's rules, of not having any say in your future. You want to know who Talon really is, but it's even more than that, isn't it? You want to be free." His eyes gleamed, golden and brilliant in the shadows. "And I can show you how.

Azdaha were no joke. ... Not much is known about this dragon [the aforementioned Gandarw], except that he apparently had yellow heels. I wonder why that was such an important detail. I mean if I were describing Godzilla, the color of his heels wouldn’t be the first thing I would mention.

Beauty and power was commonplace to the dragons as mud and manure to a stable boy.

Being with him did strange, twisty things to my insides. My dragon instincts did not approve; they still didn't like this human with his amazing reflexes and bright, intense eyes. The eyes of a predator. But there was another part of me that couldn't resist. And the thought of never seeing him again was unfathomable. Even if I knew it was probably for the best.

Before she could move or even think, the male shifted to his human form. Bran stood there, all six feet four inches of sexy, pissed off male. His expression was one of pure rage as he stepped toward her. Not that this stopped her from checking out every single naked inch of him. And the man was built. All those hard lines and striations looked as if he'd been carved from marble.

Before she could touch him, he stepped back. "I've no need of a human." "Half-Light," she corrected, still meeting his gaze in the surface. "I've no need of a dragon magician.

Breathing in the scent of his hair, I realized I'd needed him my whole life, before we even met. First, his music and the way he taught me through books and recordings. Then, he saved my life and refused to abandon me no matter how much I deserved it.

Books are like dragons....if we do not believe in them, and read them, they will cease to exist. How, then, will we learn the language and understand the stories of the dear dead ghosts of the past? Save the Dragons. Speak Dragonese. Read a book.

Books are the only things worth stealing.

Bran had heard his brother's mate Fia call Keelin one of the great beauties of the dragon race and it was true. Dressed in what he considered battle gear, Keelin was a wet dream come to life.

Business ideas are like those flying dragons in Avatar. First you have to find one, let it choose you, then be brave enough to ride it.

Buried deep within each one of us lies a treasure. It is our mission in this lifetime to find this treasure, but its exact location is known only by the dragon that guards it.

But as Rianne walked away from him, he could only stand there and watch, tearing at the earth with restless claws. Wishing with all his heart that he could go after her. Eiona’s presence kept him locked in place and for the first time, he found himself resenting the bond that held them so tightly together.

But do not take this responsibility lightly, my boy. The Gauntlet casts an ominous shadow.