Best 930 quotes in «dragons quotes» category

El dolor, cuando se instala en nuestro cuerpo, no quiere irse. Sobretodo si fue forjado en una relación. Cada foto, cada rincón de la casa, el barrio o la ciudad está impregnada por aquella persona que ya no está a nuestro lado. Y como si fuera a propósito, el recuerdo nos trae a la memoria los momentos más felices, las situaciones más divertidas, la complicidad, las sonrisas compartidas, el dolor soportado juntos. ¿Y ahora qué necesito esa mano? ¿Cómo soporto el dolor? Esa unión que antes alimentaba mi amor, se ha desgarrado, se rompió y ya no hay vínculo que lo reemplace. Como un muñón, ahora debo aprender a vivir sin esa parte de mi, que se ha ido. Una herida infectada es mejor cortarla, limpiarla aunque duela, coserla y esperar a que cicatrice. No hay manera de hacerlo más fácil. No hay trampa posible que le hagamos a nuestro corazón. Pero sanará. Pero sabemos que el dolor a cuenta gotas sería muchísimo peor a la larga, drenaría nuestra vida, nos haría infelices para siempre. Y es mortal. Y cuando reconocemos que hay otras conexiones que salen de nosotros, que tenemos espacio para abrir un nuevo canal, cuando vemos que hay otros que necesitan también sanar sus heridas, entonces aceptamos recorrer un nuevo camino. Solo debemos tener un solo cuidado: el desierto que cruzamos en el dolor nos permite saber quiénes somos, qué queremos, qué hicimos mal, que nos dejamos hacer y no debimos, qué tanto nos rebajamos o que tan inflexibles somos. No es necesario sufrir, pero es imprescindible aprender. En el camino nos habremos recuperado y estaremos caminando hacia otro horizonte.

Elsie eyed him puzzledly, and then offered, "Would you like to see my plate?

Ember was mine. The other half of me. And I would fight Talon, St George, and the entire d world to keep her safe.

Ember was watching me, green bright eyes in the shadows of the room. She crouched against the wall with her wings pressed close and her tail curled around herself. Even with her fangs slightly bared and her sides heaving with fear, she was still beautiful, elegant, fiery, everything my dragon wanted.

Ena wore black because she knew it could stir panic in the hearts of mankind. Black gave the impression of power and authority. Could anyone imagine how Ena could strike terror in the hearts of any person if she was wearing... pink, for instance? Or sunshiny yellow?

Ena," Brett said. "Lady Ena, Ryker corrected from the doorway. Brett smiled. He couldn't imagine her wanted to be called anything but Ena, but he would call her anything that pleased her. The sharp look she gave her butler made Brett think calling her Lady Ena was out. Ryker, being his usual unflappable self, just looked at her as if he was in charge and she would go by her new title or else.

Eppure dev’esserci una correlazione. Lo scienziato che gioca col destino dei draghi, e i draghi che si organizzano in segreto per fondare un nuovo regno. Sta accadendo tutto nello stesso momento, vedete? Se i draghi sono sempre esistiti, allora perché è solo oggi, in quest’epoca, che hanno deciso di muoversi? Forse perché è adesso che si sentono davvero minacciati.» «Quando si tratta del dottor Brandi, la minaccia si estende anche a noi.» Disse Eleonora. «Hai ragione, Ale. I draghi sono coloro che potrebbero salvarci.

Even the best-laid plans turn to hell when exposed to reality.

Even though she was terrified she'd somehow get Bo killed because he'd gotten trapped here with her, she was still glad to have him here. In that moment she realized there was no one else she'd rather have by her side. That scared her more than anything because Bo was the one male she shouldn't want.

Every house on the street had some sort of decorations, including one house with a life-sized Santa on the roof being led by blow-up dragons instead of reindeer.

Everyone wants the fairy tale, but don’t forget there are dragons in those stories.

Everything good in my life is because of you.

Everything is a sin. It all depends on which person you happen to offend with your free will.

Fantasy elevates ordinary and eternal problems of young people into stories via the language of myth. It turns “No one really knows me” into “I’ve got a secret identity.” It turns “I don’t understand why other people act the way they do” into “I’m trapped in a faerie realm.” It turns “my high school must have been built over the mouth of hell” into “my high school must have been built over the mouth of hell.” There are certain things in life that are glorious, and they are glorious for everyone. There are more that are hard, and they are hard for everyone. We like to see these things retold, but with dragons.

Fairies or Fae or Fey are Magical Creatures entrenched into the folklore of Chinese Culture as old as the Dragon. - Kailin Gow on Asian Fairy Tales and Folklore TV Series

Fairytales by nature only talk about the victors. The survivors. Nobody speaks about what happens to those who failed, except in the abstract: as cautionary tales to guide others onto the path to success. How many brave knights fell to the dragon before he was slayed by the noble prince? How many children burned to a crisp and eaten before the wicked witch received her due? These stories are lost, but the lesson behind them is not: it is not enough to be merely pure and good.

Fantasy imposes order on the universe. Or, at least, it superimposes order on the universe. And it is a human order. Reality tells us that we exist for a brief, beleaguered span in a cold infinity; fantasy tells us that the figures in the foreground are important. Fantasy peoples the alien Outside, and it doesn’t matter a whole lot if it peoples it with good guys or bad guys. Putting ‘Hy-Brasil’ on the map is a step in the right direction, but if you can’t manage that, then ‘Here Be Dragons is better than nothing. Better than the void.

Fear and work weren't all bad, as companions went. They were both better than loneliness, and the deeper fears, the worse ones that I knew would come true: that I wouldn't see my mother and father for ten years, that I'd never live again in my own home, never run wild in the woods again, that whatever strange alchemy acted on the Dragon's girls would soon begin to take hold of me, and make me into someone I wouldn't recognize at the end of it.

Find one thing to do," she murmured, reciting the advice Mam had given her when she was a little girl, staring at the teacups, unsure where to start. "Then do it.

Fine,” she said as she climbed on top of Luteis. “But we will figure it out.” We will, Luteis agreed, voice eager. But first — flight.

Fire is fire," Matthew said. "It burns.

Finn stood abruptly. "We need to follow 'em." "But aren't they followin' us? If we go after them, the five of us will be goin' around in circles.

First, I'm a writer; I look at things from a different point of view. The untrained eye is the eye that sees what's been missed. Devon, from The Dragon's Breath by Jenna Lindsey

First of all, simply clawing or breathing at somedragon once isn't real fighting. Small people usually use words for what we mean by that. They might say, oh, "Your mother copulated extramaritally with a black poodle, and from this union you were born." Dragons just attack, once, instead. It's just as expressive.

Forbidden fruit makes a wonderful wine." Vazco gave him a leading look. "But leaves a hell of a headache.

For now, he wanted to help Ena escape the dragon fae king's wrath. As soon as Prince Grotto learned what she was about to do in the worst way. The reason she was in this mess was because Brett had helped take Princess Alicia prisoner. As Alicia's reward for saving the Princess, Alicia's grandfather had declared that Ena would wed Alicia's cousin. He was a dangerous dragon fae. Sure Ena would become a Princess if she were to wed Prince Grotto. Brett also knew that the fae intended to use her for her special skills and terminate her when she proved useless. Brett wasn't sure how to help Ena move her gold and staff to somewhere safe. Hopefully, in the Hawk Fae kingdom. They didn't have U-Haul trucks in the fae world. She was a dragon and that meant she wasn't leaving without her horde of treasure.

For me, romance shouldn't be based on gender... It's about the love and relationship between two people who see past the corporeal and into each other's souls.

For years she’d been the Central Gates Precinct’s Witness Retrieval Specialist – more commonly referred to as a “Ghost Yanker” by her non-magical colleagues on the force. Being stuck in the basement talking to dead victims would depress the hell out of anyone, if they did it for long enough. Then, six months ago, everything changed.

Get some sleep, soldier boy.

Fråga aldrig en drake om hennes ålder.

Funny thing about fear. When you cling to it, the fear grows exponentially, a monster morphing into a suffocating mass. But when you face it head-on, conquering the beast before it swallows you whole, you find there was nothing there to fear at all. The chains break, and the whole world feels lighter than ever before.

Girls don't want boys, girls want high-speed internet and dragons.

Giving him a grateful nod, Graydon turned away. A heavy hand fell on his shoulder, causing him to stop in his tracks. Dragos' grip clenched, almost to the point of pain. Normally, Dragos was not demonstrative with anyone other than Pia and Liam. Moved, Graydon angled his face away. After a moment, he reached up to grip the other man's hand in return. Only then did Dragos' hold ease and allow him to continue on his way.

Giving her a slight smile, he whispered, "I'm putting my hand to your cheek right now." The stubborn strength that had kept her knees locked threatened to give way. Closing her eyes, she whispered back, "I'm putting my arms around you, and leaning my head on your shoulder." "And I'm stroking your hair, and kissing you." He took a deep breath. "And I am always, always going to hold on to you with all of my strength. Always, Pia.

Guy's only thought was to help her. It wasn't until he'd shoved aside the curtain and held her very wet, very naked body against him that he realized what he'd done. Her sage green eyes were wide as she stared at him. For long moments, they simply looked at each other. "I heard you cry out." "My... my ankle," she said after clearing her throat. "I put too much pressure on it." "A bath would have been better." He was valiantly trying to keep his gaze on her face, but it was difficult with her pert breasts against him and her bare ass beneath his hand as he held her up. "Probably," she whispered.

Grace was screwed. Royally screwed. As in, her career was over. Finished. Finite. She turned on the windshield wipers and slowed the car as she drove through the rain in the mountains. With a renewed grip on the steering wheel, she sent a quick prayer that the rain would stop. A little sprinkle she could handle. A storm...well, that was another matter entirely. She puffed out her cheeks as she exhaled. If only she was in Scotland for a holiday, but that wasn’t the case at all. In a last-ditch effort to give her muse a good swift kick in the pants, Grace decided to travel to Scotland. All her friends thought she had lost her mind. Her editor thought it was just one more excuse in a very long line of them as to why she hadn’t turned the book in. Grace wished she knew the reason the words just stopped coming. One day they were there, and the next...gone, vanished. Poof! Writing wasn’t just her career. It was her life. Because within the words and pages she was able to write about heroines who had relationships she would never have. It was the sad truth, but it was the truth. Grace accepted her lot...in a way. She might realize the string of miserable dates were complete misses and admit that. However, the stories running through her head allowed her to dream as far as she could, and encounter men and adventures sitting behind a computer never would. Not being able to find the words anymore was like having someone steal her soul. She breathed a sigh of relief when the rain stopped and she was able to turn off her windshield wipers. In the two hours since she checked into the B&B, it hadn’t stopped raining. Rain was a part of being in Scotland, and she was pushing herself with her fear of storms to be out in it as well. It proved how far she would go to find her soul again. She needed to write, to sink into another world where she could find happiness and a love that lasted forever. Now she was armed with her laptop and steely determination. She would find her muse again. Just as soon as she found the right place. The scenery along the highway was stunning, but the noise of the passing vehicles would be too much. Grace needed somewhere off the beaten path. Somewhere she could pretend she was the only person left in the world.

Great! I hope different police officers are here this time." "Might be, but we're in the same police jurisdiction. I'm certain from the last time you were here, they probably have a record about you. What was it you said? You were playing some game re-enactment the last time you were injured?" "Yes. How did your brother come up the idea of a paint-ball game? That's a good one." "He's played them here before. He would like to bring the game back to our world, but we fight for real.

Greasy burgers and fries are so much more delicious than swallowing a cow whole.

Griffin leans closer, his voice dropping to a low, suggestive rumble only I can hear. "There are things I could boast about, but I'd rather show than tell.

Hades, Hera, and Hestia!" Flynn curses, pointing up. "What in the Underworld is that?" "A She-Dragon." Everyone turns to me, and as much as I love having four handsome men gape at me in stupefaction, right now, I could do without.

Godzilla was coming...

Granamyr doesn't fight humans, Granamyr wins.

Growl all you want. The sound is...appealing.

Have you ever met a dragon that couldn't talk?

He brightened. "Are you Irish then?" "My last name is McNally. I'm as Irish as Paddy's pig.

Heat roared within him. Greedy heat. He wanted her.... She was in over her head, and it seemed... so was he.

He can surround a sword with flames." Freya sounded proud of him. That irritated Ena. He was her prisoner and only she had the right to feel proud of him as far as she was concerned.

He blinked in surprise and was even more startled when the dragon mimicked the action, but did so sideways. A clear membrane coated its eye, then drew back to reveal hues infinitely more searing than before—so vibrant it was painful for Roger to look into them. Orange pulsating like a lava flow, yellow glistening brighter than a city made of gold, green flashing like St. Elmo’s fire. All these colors danced not a foot in front of Roger’s face, flickering within that gigantic orb...

He can talk!" "Yes, I can speak any language you want, fly, and breath fire." Air Raid said proudly. "Can you do anything else?" the boy asked. Air Raid thought for a moment then said, "I can sing." "No, he can't. And please don't ask him to prove it," Ally quickly said looking at the fawn haired girl pleadingly. "I'll believe you this time," the fawn hair girl said. After being proven wrong several times already she didn't want to take any more chances.

He clenched his teeth and muttered, "I can't get deep enough." .... Putting her mouth to his ear, she whispered, "Try.