Best 4015 quotes in «fantasy quotes» category

Who are you? Are you in touch with all of your darkest fantasies? Have you created a life for yourself where you can experience them? I have. I am fucking crazy. But I am free.

Who dares disturb a sleeping dragon?

Whore," he spat at her. "If I am a whore for resisting you," she said through her teeth, "what would I have been for giving in?" "Whore," he said again.

Who wanted to make lemonade from lemons, when you could make perfectly good lemonade grenades?

Who reigns up high? A dead man’s sigh What sleeps below? A crown of woe That is the Tower: Learn and cower.” – Extract from ‘And So I Dreamt I Was Awake’, Sherehazad the Seer

Why all this death? You might as easily ask ‘Why all this life?’.

Why aren't you afraid of me?" Coy looks at me, baffled. "Why would I be afraid of you?" I shrug, not getting a chance to answer before he continues. "Until the day you start chomping on my throat without my permission or throwing me across the room for fun, I'll never be afraid of you.

Why can’t I have my own life?!

Why did everyone like that story so much when it wasn't true? Why was everyone so eager to believe it? Was it because, in real life, ever after's generally stink?

Why are you, of all people, in baking class?" "My family has a thing for tarts, of course." "So I've read.

Why can’t I take you? Why is it so hard? You have the other half of my soul; with you I will be complete! So. Then. Why?” Crispin murmured clenching his fists. Oh, he pitied the fool who would be in his way once he returned to his domain. “Oh, what suffering will befall them in her place,” he smiled wickedly. ~Crispin~

Why are you considering working permanently as a mercenary if you have a few hundred to spend on me upfront? You can’t possibly be hurting for money.” -Theron Boa Kai Sera: “I’m not hurting for money, my friend, but for purpose.

Why do I love being a writer? Because we love life a lot. We feel it deeply. We live it richly, often without much money. There's simply no one better to experience rain with on a scorching summer's day.

Why did you wear heels? How are you supposed to fight a gargoyle in what you're wearing?

Why do I feel like this is our destiny. There must be a reason why we have become our characters.

Why does everything want to eat children?!” Neferre smiled. “Because you taste like candy. Stinky socks would mask your delicious scent from the aziza. We must get you stinky socks. So they do not eat you.” “That’s not much of a bedtime story! You really haven’t done this before!

Why Do Fairies Let Bad Things Happen to Good People?

Why do you assume I'm human? I wasn't born; I was created just like this. First I was an idea. Then I came into being, charged with a very important task. I've come to find the monster.

Why do the birds return?” “What d’you mean?” Brandon looked lost all of a sudden. “I mean, they could go anywhere. They’re free…so why do they return to this place?” Brandon grinned. “Cause home’s home no matter how bleak.

Why is it," Mappo asked, "that Master Quell seemed indifferent to unleashing an undead dragon into this world?" "Well, hardly indifferent. He said 'oops!' At least, I think that's what I heard, but perhaps that was but my imagination.

Why Is It That When You Wash Two Socks You Only End Up With One? Is There Life After Death? and Where Did The Other Sock Go?

Why must we overlook what we are most likely able to do?

Why?" He stopped pacing and looked at her as if she'd just asked him to count every leaf on every tree in the Old Place. "Because... you're you.

Why is he scared of the dark?" I meant the words for a joke, but Shade nodded seriously. "Like all monsters. Because it reminds him of what he truly is".

Why should their pain produce such marvelous beauty? he wonders. Or is all beauty created through pain? Is that the secret of great art, both human and Melnibonen?

Why would Dad call you? I mean, you have to admit that he would have been better off calling the local prison and asking them to send out one of the convicted killers to come find me. - Shella

Will you tame your fear or let it control you?

Will they remember us, Aravan? Will Mankind remember us at all?" ... Mayhap, Gwylly, mayhap. Mayhap in their legends and their fables. Mayhap in naught but their dreams.

Will we have pets?” I bite back the question regarding kids. While this might be a fun fantasy, imagining being responsible for something like that is terrifying. “Sure.” Noah stays near the fire on one bent knee and occasionally pokes it to keep the dwindling flames alive. “I had a dog once.” “What type?” “A mix of some sort. Part Lab, part something smaller than Lab. Its paws were too big for its body, so it skidded across the kitchen floor.” “Is that what you want?” “If we’re going to live alone on a mountain, we need a guard dog. A German shepherd. Something like that.” “Guard dog?” Not what I had in mind for the fantasy. “We need something cute and cuddly.” I squish my fingers in the air as if I have the little puff ball in my hands. “It can sleep in our bed.” “No fucking way, Echo. I’m not sharing my bed with a dog.

Wisdom cannot be bought from the walmart, it can only come from the Holy Spirit of God.

Wisdom is knowing the right thing to do and doing it at the right time to get the desired result. It is also the correct application of knowledge.

Wir sind das Feuer und sie der Regen. Doch kein Niederschlag der Welt könnte den Brand in Schacht halten, den wir entfacht haben.

Wisdom is the mother of solutions. You cannot upgrade in wisdom and lack solutions and you cannot have a wisdom and be stranded in any challenge you face.

Wisdom’s Pearl doth often dwell Closed in Fancy’s rainbow shell

With all those mutants out there, who would chance going beyond the Perimeter after dark?” — Jimbo

With a blade at your throat, a well-connected uncle or a wealthy mother could not save you. Only you could save yourself.

With favoring winds, o'er sunlit seas, We sailed for the Hesperides, The land where golden apples grow; But that, ah! that was long ago. How far, since then, the ocean streams Have swept us from that land of dreams, That land of fiction and of truth, The lost Atlantis of our youth! Whither, ah, whither? Are not these The tempest-haunted Orcades, Where sea-gulls scream, and breakers roar, And wreck and sea-weed line the shore? Ultima Thule! Utmost Isle! Here in thy harbors for a while We lower our sails; a while we rest From the unending, endless quest.

With his revelation,...I shattered into a million shards. I felt each piece as it splintered and separated from the whole like a glass I had broken the day before. Debris flew everywhere. It left me without any option but to pick each broken piece up, analyze it, and find out where it belonged. I had to find out where I belonged. Allison La Crosse - Warriors of the Cross

With no action to nourish it, your dream becomes a fantasy.

Without thinking about it at all, Harry stepped in front of Hermione. There was an intake of breath from behind him, and then a moment later Hermione brushed past and stepped in front of him. "Run, Harry!" she said. "Boys shouldn't have to be in danger.

With the fading of the final notes the saxophone player turns to me. Its baleful, otherworldly gaze bores into my soul. It lowers its instrument to the disc and extends a podgy, grey hand to point at me. It looms closer, its head expanding, arm elongating. A clammy digit brushes the tip of my nose and a tingling numbness spreads over my face like an ice-cold spider web. A voice like the rustle of dried leaves whispers inside my head: “Forever…” The last syllable stretches, just like my grandfather’s dying breath. And the beady, black orbs are no longer eyes but deep, obsidian pits…

Without thinking, I step a little closer, reaching out slowly to slide a fingertip over the largest petal of the lily tattoo on her lower back. Instantly a vibration moves up my arm, and I swear the mark on my hand burns against my skin. I clench my fingers into a fist, but I don’t step away. “Did you feel that?” she asks. I shake my head. “I don’t know.” I feel so much, always so much. She takes my hand and brings it to her side again, resting it on the violets. I look at the purple flowers between my fingers and feel the heat of her skin, the way it slides beneath my palm, soft as silk. And that vibration moves through my arm again. Her breath quickens. I find myself moving closer as her blue eyes go wide with wonder. My heart stutters and my chest aches with some unknown need. “Are you doing this?” I ask. Is she making me want this? “No,” she breathes. The smell of her turns to spice, sharp and warm, and I know I’m sensing her now, even through the block in the house. We stand like that for an eternity, still as statues on the outside, but inside I’m running, running toward a place I’ve never been. I should be terrified. But all I feel is strength. Rightness. And then Kara moves, her hands skimming up my chest, testing the boundaries. Her palms slide to my shoulders, her fingers tracing the line of the muscles in my arms, down to my waist. She grips my shirt, stretching it a little, waiting for me to tell her to stop. But I watch her lift it, let her pull it up, raising my arms, and I even take the last of it off myself, dropping it to the floor. We breathe, staring at each other. The vibrations move between us. My left arm buzzes with them. I think she’s doing it. Whatever’s happening, it’s her. I reach up and brush my marked knuckles across her cheek, amazed at the feel of her, the way her eyes seem to see everything, the way she pulls me into her. I can’t seem to remember why I shouldn’t kiss her. And kiss her. And . . . I kiss her, taking her face in both hands, skimming my thumb over her jaw as she leans into the touch, reaching out to curl her fingers around the back of my neck. I have to remind myself to breathe. I need more of her. The emotions roll over me in a rush, a tangle of sensation and movement, heat and sugar and heady aromas. I grip her tighter. Her nails dig into my shoulders. My hands slide down her spine. The kiss deepens, goes on forever, until I can barely see sense. I explore her shape, the feel of her ribs, the textures and taste of her skin on my tongue as I kiss her neck, her shoulders, her chest. As I draw trembling gasps from her lips, she grips me so hard it hurts. Our bodies mesh. Our breath mingles in frenzied desperation. Nothing else exists except her. Her warmth. Her spice. Her.

Without you discovering your true picture, it will be hard to have a glorious future. It is the discovery of what you have inside and the pursuit of it that can guarantee a glorious future

With that sapphire, he bound your strength to him, but the magic did what he did not intend; it made him strong but also pulled him closer and closer to mortality, so that he was hungry for life, more than a man and less a demon. So that he loved you, and did not know what to do.

Woher willst du wissen, dass nur das existiert, was wir mit unseren menschlichen Sinnen wahrnehmen können? Wir bilden uns ein, alles zu wissen. Dabei sind uns so viele Bereiche verschlossen, die zum Beispiel Tiere hören oder spüren können. Das beste Beispiel für unsere Beschränktheit ist doch, dass wir seit langem fleißig an dem Ast sägen, auf dem wir sitzen. Welches Geschöpf mit Ausnahme des Menschen wäre so dumm, seinen eigenen Lebensraum zu vernichten?

Wonderland is very, very real. And nothing here is what you think it is.

Without the journey and crucial moment of understanding, I would still be questioning everything before me. I know now that I must trust what comes next, for there is a plan greater than the one I can see at work.

With the threat of them being potential spies or saboteurs, nobody will argue against our actions, and history itself will vindicate us.

Wonderful. Mad at home and mad here. Was there nowhere that this Alice was truly sane?

Words are so powerful. It can win wars, create kings, and sustain civilizations. - Wordwick Games by Kailin Gow