Best 930 quotes in «dragons quotes» category

No, I didn't enjoy that in the least. Do it again so I can not enjoy it some more.

No." Laurence said, "I mean to retire when we have returned. I have enough money to keep Temeraire now, and enough of a countenance to ask my brother to put us up on one of the farms." Or they might return to Australia, or to China. Temeraire has every right to ask that of him now that the war was won. Laurence did not mean to refuse him, he only hoped to go back to Wollaton Hall first and find a way to carry it with him somehow. He longed in a deep inward part for Britain, for home, and the house standing at twilight with all the windows lit. A child's memory of peace. He would even be grateful there for the counterfeit honors that had been heaped onto his head, if they gave his mother some peace, and his brother need not be ashamed to give him a field for Temeraire to sleep in, for a little while.

No longer could he deny what he wanted. Perhaps it was her confession. Maybe it was because he hadn't taken to the skies in weeks. Whatever it was, all he knew was that he had to have her or go up in flames. "Then seduce me." - Kiril

Noontime was absolutely the perfect time for a duel in the dragon’s opinion as this was also lunchtime, his favorite part of the day. As the saying went, he could kill two birds with one stone.

Not once in her life had Darcy wanted to thumb her nose at danger and rip the clothes off a man, but she was contemplating that very thing.

Not very smart," Chudo-Yudo growled. "Stalking a Baba Yaga." He showed a set of sharp white teeth. "Maybe he has a death wish. I could help with that You want me to eat him?

Now, if you don't mind, send one my way. Bob is getting tired." "Who's Bob? You've not told me about a Bob," Sophie said, a little hurt. "I have too," Claire said and gave her a little shove in the arm. "Bob is Battery Operated Boyfriend, B.O.B.

Now, I pray you, cast yourself into a different world, a different trail of thought; step into a place where dragons live and breathe, where they are as real in touch and voice as you or I. Where they face the same extinction every day that they have suffered in our world: the extinction of myth . . . yet where they battle every moment to fend off such a fate for another day . . .

Now, I was a planet tilted off its axis. A brighter sun had appeared in my system, pulling me away from the world I knew before. All else paled in comparison to the magnificent Morgon man standing before me.

Now then," he mused, "how does one fly a dragon?

Observe and blend in," he stated in his cool, unruffled voice. "Learn how to engage with humans, how to be human. Assimilate into their social structure and make them believe we are one of them.

Of course, it will be me. That’s who everyone else is voting for. I’ve decided not to make anyone else feel the way I do, with my name on the paper.

Oh, boy," Jim said, giving an excited wiggle. "Cat fight! Wish I had some popcorn.

Oh, sure," Cassie said. "Take me to your faery world. I've always wanted to see Tinker Bell." Not. She'd had to watch the movie when she was a kid because her parents had thought she should enjoy some fantasy stories in her early years. What sane kid wanted to be a child forever? Being older had lots more perks.

Oh, the envelope did contain magic,” a strange, low voice said from the doorway. Judith looked over. She forgot her cut and her coffee. And how to breathe. The tall, broad man filling up the door frame looked like a warrior angel with gold hair falling into his eyes, a pale-gold undertone to his skin, and ‘heartbreaking’ green eyes…. “Any magic that involves blood is a grave threat,” he continued. “And death by paper cut would be a long and tedious way to go. I can help.

Okay, what are you two doing to my girl? No making her cry. I told her everything would be okay, are you trying to make a liar out of me now?” He is at my side and running his thumbs over my cheeks to check for any lingering tears in a heartbeat. He leans down and kisses my mouth. “What’d they do, darlin’? You know I’d slay any dragon for you.” I smile up at him, overcome by how lucky I feel, how happy I am that he loves me, that I can have this. “They were happy tears, cupcake. Stow your sword and remember I’m no damsel in distress. I can slay dragons all on my own.” “Yes, I know you can.” He says, his deep, rich voice serious. “But you don’t have to, Chloe Jane. Never again.

Okey." Charming leaned back and rocked the chair on two legs. "Let's asses the situation. We've got a fourteen-fot green-spiked dragon, male, possible in molt, chipped upper-left fang missing one claw on the right hind foot, three claws each on the other foots, chested head, dorsal ridge, apparently healthy, containintly vicios. Presently aspleep in a confined space." "um," said Ann, "That's about the way I see it too.

Once metal hits metal and battle begins no one wishes they had practiced less!

OMG, I think I’ve become a feminist. I mean, I’ve always been in favor of women voting and being paid the same as men for doing the same job. But then, the other day on the train, I didn’t get up and give a woman my seat. I thought about it. But then I thought it might insult her, might imply that I considered her weaker than a senior citizen, maybe even inferior in some way. But that’s not what prompted me to fire up my laptop. I was brushing my teeth this morning and thinking about romance. People do that when they get older, I suppose. Romance is one area where men and women are still different—unisex lavatories and fashions notwithstanding. And here’s the difference: a romantic woman envisions a knight on a white horse; a romantic man envisions a dragon in a dark cave. Think about it next time you brush your teeth.

Once again he was aware of eyes staring fixedly at him. He glanced sideways into the long, pointed face of Goodboy Bindle Featherstone, rearing up in a pose best described as The Last Puppy in the Shop. To his astonishment, he found himself reaching over and scratching it behind its ears, or at least behind the two spiky things at the sides of its head which were presumably its ears. It responded with a strange noise that sounded like a complicated blockage in a brewery. He took his hand away hurriedly. “It's all right,” said Lady Ramkin. “It's his stomachs rumbling. That means he likes you.” To his amazement, Vimes found that he was rather pleased about this. As far as he could recall, nothing in his life before had thought him worth a burp.

Once, we were a mighty nation Our people came from strong foundation Until cursed with darker days A dragon red came from skies blue Came and stole the things we once knew Making us humble, unknown But we were told one day of old That we’d give our throne of ancient gold To a prince and dragon slayer’s son For us to regain the ancient throne He will fight and bleed for our mountain home This dragon prince of Bowen’s line He will kill the drake that broke us He will remove the Witch who cursed us And become our King some glad day So now we wait ever patiently We wait for the one promised to make us free We wait for this prince to come

Once, when I was a child, I dreamed that Grimbeard the Ghastly, on the deck of his ship The Endless Journey, threw the sword Endeavor up into the air. Up and up it spun, through the inky blackness, across the cavernous span of a hundred years, until, entirely of its own accord, my own left hand sprang out of space and stars and never-ending time and caught it. Now that I am so very old, I am dreaming once again. And in my dream, I am the one throwing the sword. It is spinning now, in the black starlit waters of my dream, right above your head, dear reader. A sword that may look second-best, and secondhand, but but carries the memories of a thousand lost fights, a history lesson in itself. Reach out, and catch it by the hilt. Swear by its name, Endeavor, to do your utmost to make the world a better place than when you arrived in it. For look! There will be dragons all around you, as camouflaged as a Stealth Dragon.

One does not have to see the sea to know that monsters live there.

One hand traced small circles against my back, and I pressed closer to him, listening to his heartbeat. “I used to think that having nothing to live for made you a better fighter,” he murmured. “Turns out I was wrong on a lot of fronts.

On Planet Dragos, everything goes the way he arranges it – unless you decide to cross him, and God help you then, because he doesn’t know how to back down, and he doesn’t ever, ever let up.

One misspoken word and the world will no longer know you. Mark Andrew Ramsay

One night. May the best witch win.

One small hand lifted to the shower head and he stilled. He’d yet to see her skin; the dragon had claimed her on scent alone.

Only a fool would call a desert a lake, and expect it to change the amount of water.

Pain is mostly mind over matter: if you don't mind, it doesn't matter.

Or possibly possessiveness was a characteristic of draconic affection. They were supposed to be hoarders, after all. Not so different from Librarians.

Our enemies-my enemies-wouldn’t win. The demon lizards had hurt me for the last time. Now, they had a new foe, and I would make sure they remembered my name when I destroyed them on the battlefield. I would work hard. I would excel. I would become the perfect soldier.

Out of all the things you would expect when facing a dragon, silence was not on the list. Roaring? Certainly! Snarling? Why, yes - of course! Fire-breathing? Couldn’t possibly do without it. Wouldn’t feel right if it wasn’t there. But silence? No. Definitely not. It was as out of place as a potter at a blacksmith’s.

Pack or clan, they took care of each other.

Patience is for dragons,” Keegan muttered. “But dragons must learn it, just as humans must,” Pharrgon replied.

People won't change until the pain of not changing is greater than the pain changing brings.

Peter,” she whispered. “I don’t suppose this place has a bedroom.” He laughed softly in her ear. “Twelve of them, actually. Which one do you want to use?” She laughed back and bit his neck teasingly. “How about all of them? You just pick where we’ll start.

Perhaps I am a foolish, fond old dragon who never learns from his own mistakes. But I have to believe that the humans and the dragons are capable of living together. I have to hope that the impossible can be possible. I have to trust in the boy and hope for the best...

Perhaps all the dragons of your life are princesses, who are only waiting for us to show a little beauty and courage. Perhaps at the very bottom every horror is something helpless, that wants help from us

Pitiful, puling, like all your kin the slave of time that rots the body before the mind has seen more than a single flower in all the meadows of the Cosmos.

Pinning her wrists on either side of her head, he growled telepathically, Open your legs. Hunger pulsed. God, she loved it when he got growly and autocratic. Arching in a stretch that rubbed her torso against his, she put her mouth lightly against his and whispered, "Make me...

Plato in the Symposium used to say that, at the beginning of time, human beings had four arms, four legs, and two heads. In time, they began to be insolent toward the gods, who, as punishment, separated them into two parts with a thunderbolt, creating from each primordial human being two new divided beings. As a consequence, every man tries to find his initial wholeness looking for his lost half. He was right, more or less. I believed that even my soul was born differently. With ten arms, ten legs, and five heads. Creepy if I imagined it, but I thought it would make the idea better.

Please come out so I can see your face," Darcy said. There was a smile in Thorn's voice when he said, "I gave my jeans to Warrick. I'm no' shy, lass, but I doona want to embarrass Warrick.

Play with fire and you WILL get burned.

Quella frase detta in maniera così esplicita, quasi sfacciata, fu come un fastidioso prurito in un punto della schiena dove non si riesce ad arrivare a grattarsi; Eleonora capì che era gelosia. Eppure lei sapeva bene che era un sentimento naturale, privo di malizia. Sapeva cosa voleva dire sentirsi legati a un drago; doveva essere preparata. Invece no. Li guardava, e aveva la netta sensazione che non dovesse star lì: era di troppo, un elemento di disturbo. Si chiese se mai Alessandro avesse provato una cosa simile durante il loro viaggio con Indaco. Non aveva mai dato peso a simili cose finché non si era trovata lei dall’altra parte: l’esclusa dalla dimensione che si apre tra un drago e il suo umano. Nonostante il disagio, non riusciva ad andarsene: era curiosa, o forse troppo sorpresa per riuscire a muovere un solo muscolo; guardava il volto del ragazzo rapito dalla dragonessa, il suo sguardo colmo d’adorazione, meraviglia e rispetto. Estasiato. Osservò le sue mani dipingersi di rosso, e provò ancora più imbarazzo nel sentirsi lì: lui apparteneva a quella creatura, adesso. Scosse la testa: non era il caso di fare certi pensieri. Cambiò rotta e cominciò a pensare che le cose sarebbero invece andate meglio: ora che anche lui aveva il suo drago, tutto sarebbe stato più semplice e si sarebbero capiti fino in fondo perché vivevano entrambi la stessa meravigliosa esperienza. “Se è tutto così bello, allora perché mi sento così malinconica e triste?” rifletté. “Non mi è venuto incontro, non mi ha chiesto nemmeno come sto. Se sapesse cosa stavo per fare... Alla fine non l’ho fatto, ed è stato quell’attimo di esitazione a rendermi vulnerabile. Ho rischiato di morire... Non gliene importa più?” Sentì un nodo alla gola.

Quit staring at my breasts," she hissed with a soft stomp of her heel. His gaze flashed to hers. "Why? They're mine.

Remember with your heart. Go back, go back, and go back. The skies of this world were always meant to have dragons. When they are not there, humans miss them. Some never think of them, of course. But some children, from the time they are small, they look up at a blue summer sky and watch for something that never comes. Because they know. Something that was supposed to be there faded and vanished.

Remember, there were dragons long before men came into the world. Why, it was none other than The Great Dragons of Yore who invented the idea of knighthood. Yes, yes, that’s right! Dragons had knights, Kings, princesses and queens long before men crawled out of the muck.

Reapers are the hands of Death. Death might be the judge, but the Reapers are the executioners. They police all Fae." "So kill the bastards." Taraeth glanced at his glass. "MNo one knows who the Reapers are. No one as even seen Death. We can't fight what we don't see or know." "So... you're afraid of some whispers?" "What do you think has been hunting the Fae besides the Kings? The Reapers." Mikkel made a sound at the back of his throat. "Has anyone ever seen one of these Reapers?" "You see one, you die." "Of course you do," Mikkel scoffed.

Rnesh karr slithis," I hissed back, which was Draconic for eat your own tail, the dragon version of go screw yourself. No extra translation needed.