Best 4015 quotes in «fantasy quotes» category

A novel is a bridge from one heart to another. - Anon

Another patient, Janet, was repeatedly abused by a grandfather who forced her cousin to sexually molest her and put sticks into her vagina. The patient dissociated at the time into a child alter personality, Susie, who remembered the abuse. Susie decided if she had no body, her cousin would not hurt her. Susie imagined she had no body but only her head. The fantasy she had no body to hurt, led to a dissociation of all perceptions of her body and the belief that she avoided pain and her cousin could not hurt her. This mechanism shows the interplay of reality and fantasy in a dissociative defense. Through fantasy, Susie has no body and no pain. Simultaneously, the reality of her torture was recognized as the source of this adaptation. Dissociative defenses adopted her wishful fantasy to solve a brutal experience and its memory.

An ounce of reality is greater than a pound of fantasy.

An ounce of reality is worth more than a tonne of fantasies.

A number is all I am to them.

Answer me immediately or I'll start cutting away everything that's pretty on you...and then put it back.

An uncomfortable marriage can not bear the strain of the death of a beloved donkey.

...anyone over four feet tall does not simply walk into an active volcano.

Anything for Byron’s least favorite apprentice. It’s the least I can do since you took over my torch.

Any time there's something so ridiculously dangerous that no rational human being would try it, they send for me.' --Garion

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.

Anything worth anything can be found in books.

A part of me sought the light in all the people I knew, but with the Shadows, it was like bringing them back from a subterfuge comma. Literally tearing the veil of blackness down and showing them the luminescence of light.

A part of me tried to fabricate reasons in my mind why it was too dangerous, or why it couldn’t be possible. But I knew the truth — there was a part of me that was just afraid of change. And another part that was afraid of losing what made me special. I’d risked my life for that attunement. Was it really fair for others to get them for free? Perhaps even any attunement of their choice? But that was an inherently selfish line of thinking.

A picture of the world, nothing more than a casting stone set in the heavens, intruded on Errol's dismay. World without end. Was Illustra, their entire world, nothing more than a lot for the ultimate reader, too small and insignificant a thing to care about?

Approach everything with a careful tongue. - Elder God from The Thousand Years War

Apple Tree Inn, the nightly gathering place of all Winslow residents, and in many ways the core of the town's happiness, always had a warm fire crackling on the hearth and was known for its good cider and company.

Approaching the trail, he broke through the thicket a short distance ahead of the Empath. Causing the Empaths horse to startle as the surprised rider jerked on the reins. Cap was equally surprised to find a young girl before him instead of an older, experienced male Empath. Cap brought his horse to a quick halt. The young girl pulled a small knife from her boot and cautioned him. "I don't know where you came from, but I'm not easy prey.” Her voice shook slightly with fear as she raised the knife. Not sure how to proceed, they stared silently at each other. Cap had always believed that Empaths didn't carry weapons. This pretty, chestnut haired girl couldn't be more than 18 years old. Her long straight tresses covered the spot on her jacket where the Empathic Emblem was usually worn, causing Cap to doubt she was the one he sought. Not wanting to frighten her any more than he already had, Cap tried to explain. "I'm Commander Caplin Taylor. I’m looking for an Empath that is headed for the Western Hunting Lodge.” "My name is Kendra; I am the Empath you seek.” She answered cautiously, still holding the blade. A noise from the brush drew her attention as a small rodent pounced out, trying to evade an unseen predator. Cap was just close enough to lurch forward and snatch the dirk from her hand. Her head jerked back in alarm. "Bosen May has been mauled by a Sraeb, his shoulder is a mass of pulp." Cap spoke quickly not wanting to hesitate any longer. That was all Kendra needed to hear. She pushed her horse past him and headed quickly down the trail. "Wait!" Cap called after her, turning his horse around. Reining in the horse, she turned back to face him annoyed by the delay. "Are you a good horseman?" Cap asked, as he stuffed her dirk in his jacket. "I've been in the saddle since I was a child." She answered, abruptly. "Okay so just a few years then?" Cap's rebuke angered her. Jerking the horse back toward the trail, she ignored him. "Wait, I'm sorry!" Cap called after her. "It's just that I know a quicker way, if you can handle some rough terrain." "Let’s go then." Kendra replied, gruffly, turning back to face him. Without another word, Cap dove back into the brush and the girl followed.

Apropos, you're going to have to learn to sooner or later that you can't just let other people decide what the world around you should and shouldn't be.

Aquella arruga reflejaba dos características de su naturaleza: su mal carácter y su perenne perplejidad ante cualquier operación mental más compleja que sumar dos y dos con los dedos.

A rabbit ran by with all its experience, fur, and meat. A hardworking badger rustled away while a wiggly snake slunk off. Well, fauna, meet Man, your destroyer.

Arch leaned back into his chair, but he was entertaining a smile. “There are few things more tedious than a friend who will not graciously receive.” Quincy could have explained that nine years of poverty might have something to do with it, but instead she just replied, “You must find me maddening, then.” Arch’s mouth twitched. “You, ma chérie, are something else entirely.

Archomai is where believing is being.

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.

Aren't we forever?

Are you entirely sure of that knot?' asked Morveer. 'There is no place in the plan for a lengthy drop'. 'Twenty-eight strides', said Friendly. 'What?' 'The drop'. A brief pause, 'That is not helpful'.

ARE YOU CRAZY?" I ASKED. He gave me the same wordless look he always did when I asked that question.

A rescue attempt had hitherto been so far at the back of his mind that, if some advanced speculations on the nature and shape of the many-dimensioned multiplexity of the universe were correct, it was right at the front.

Are you awake then, Lainna?” he shispered gently against her ear. “Aye, well, if I wasn’t already awake I soon would be with you pokin’ me with your diddler!

Are you educated in the art of medicine?” Yeah, the art of Walgreens and Urgent Care. “A bit,” I hedged.

Are you trying to seduce me or trick me?

Are you imperfect, romantically irrational, ridiculously fearless, and utterly illogical? You're my ideal reader, friend, partner. I'm your fan.

Are you seeing strange visions, diviner?” he cooed. “They are not real except to you. Calm your heart, let your breath flow free. You are safe with me, pale bird. Do not fly away.” His tone was so gentle that it almost calmed me, too.

Are you the same woman I brought here, Sasha? You're like a kid at Christmastime."--Monroe "You would be, too, if someone fulfilled your most secret fantasies."--Sasha

Are you single?” inquired − rather bluntly − the email titled “Career Opportunity.

Ariel: “Eric!” Eric: “Do not sing me back to shore! Not until you are standing on two feet!

Arithon lent a disarming appearance of frailty. Beneath wind-flicked tangles of dark hair, his expression reflected the careless ennui of high-breeding, the features, sharp-faceted marble.

Arrogance and Conceit are the mother and father of a closed mind. Charles Jennings, "Journey of the Chosen".

Arvex led the others into the light. “Wrecked if I ever dash miners again! This is one royal who won’t wipe their boots on our cousins anymore.” His grin made the carnage seem trivial.

Arren vide sempre meglio i draghi che si libravano nella brezza mattutina, e il suo cuore trasalì di gioia nell'assistere a quel volo. Vi era racchiusa tutta la gloria della mortalità. La bellezza dei draghi era fatta di una forza terribile, della più totale ferocia e nel contempo della grazia della ragione. Perché si trattava di creature pensanti, dotate della capacità di parlare e di un'antica saggezza: nella leggiadria del loro volo c'era una fiera armonia. Arren non parlò ma pensò: "Non mi interessa cosa succederà d'ora in poi. Ho visto i draghi volare nel vento del mattino.

As an artist, i live in fantasy and flirt with reality. I'm an emotional magician of sorts. I paint my feelings onto the abstract canvas of a waking dream. I suspend my concepts in the ether's of otherworldly realms. This is the way my existence has always been. I am untethered, a traveler between worlds. I sinuously slip in and out of the real and surreal, until, they are one and the same. I do not like being shackled or chained, to the physical plane.

As a demigod - Fen cleared his throat - "I am flush with power. My power can be transformed into the kind of energy you need to feed." As he spoke, his eyes sparked with something feral that sent shivers racing down my spine. "It can happen from touch, kissing, but the greatest source is during the act of..." Ohmygodsinheaven. "Sex? Are you referring to sex?"... "My power becomes concentrated for... a very brief moment. It's all about the transfer of energy from one body to another." He looked wildly uncomfortable. "All who live in Asgard know this already. I've never had to explain it to someone." His semen packs a punch?

As Ariel recounted the events of her dream, two magnificent, batlike wings grew from the backs of her shoulders, stretched as if preparing to fly, then retreated back into their host. The sound heard when the wings disappear is the giggling of Alanna, who watched the event much the same way I did, in rapt wonder.

As an author I'm in my head all day and I worry that I lose touch with reality. But then my dog pees on my shoe and I know I've found it again.

As far as I'm concerned, you're changing the fate of another human being. Maybe he isn't meant to be elected to office. Maybe humans deserve to live with electing the wrong person.

A sensual lifestyle must achieve perfect harmony between reality and fantasy, practicality and aspirational.

A sexual fantasy should only be something you cannot ever achieve. If it's achievable, then it's nothing more than a reality you avoid making happen for yourself

As has already been noted, fantastic literature developed at precisely the moment when genuine belief in the supernatural was on the wane, and when the sources provided by folklore could safely be used as literary material. It is almost a necessity, for the writer as well as for the reader of fantastic literature, that he or she should not believe in the literal truth of the beings and objects described, although the preferred mode of literary expression is a naive realism. Authors of fantastic literature are, with a few exceptions, not out to convert, but to set down a narrative story endowed with the consistency and conviction of inner reality only during the time of the reading: a game, sometimes a highly serious game, with anxiety and fright, horror and terror.

A set of huge marble busts stared smugly down from on high: great merchants and financiers of Styrian history, by the look of them. Criminals made heroes by colossal success.