Best 4015 quotes in «fantasy quotes» category

We hear rumors of a man who leads a rebellion in the forest, determined to drive the invader out. It's said wherever wolf howls or hawk cries, he appears.

We hope you have found challenge in your path this morning.” -- Laniel, Abbot of Bilkar the Furred

We hunt the flame, the light in the darkness, the good this world deserves.

Weißt du, was das Geheimnis ist?", raunte der Zwerg an SEINER Seite. "Es ist die Kraft positiver Gedanken. Du musst einfach an das Beste denken und nicht an alle möglichen Unglücke, die geschehen könnten. Unsere Gedanken formen unser Leben!

We keep electing council members for appearance sake, it doesn’t mean anything, and it is just a show for the people, so that they may sleep well at night with their delusion of peace.

We laughed as we ducked behind a pile of snow. Then our brothers came charging through the barrier, sending the four of us sliding down a white slope full of cherished memories.

[We let] the universality of fantasy, of once upon a time, allow escapist fiction to be more than just that - to also bring us home.

We learned the seven traditional ways to make words unclear." "Seven? That many? Which was the most effective?" "Poor grammar skills.

We live in a world of unfulfilled fairytales.

We live in a world full of people who are satisfied with pretending to be someone they are not.

We live in a magic time, Kanefionn Stoneweaver. Who is to say that it is not you who create these marvels?

We live in the most epic of fantasy worlds.

Well, can you tell her that?" He looked down at his feet. "I will. I will." Guy-speak for, "I plan to keep avoiding her until she gives up.

Well, come back and have tea with us," saidMoon-Face. "Silky's got some Pop Biscuits -andI've made some Google Buns. I don't often makethem-and I tell you they're a treat!

We'll free as many as we can and build an army in the forest. It might take years, but I won't rest until every last Calorin is gone from these shores and my father is restored to the throne. - Corin

Well, anyway, this'll be easier than knocking an elf out of a tree. Trust me.' 'How many elves have you knocked out of trees, Stubble?' 'Duraden's bones! Have ye never heard of a figure of speech?

Well done, Darren!” Master Byron was full of praise for the prince. “What did you use to cast it?” Darren’s eyes found mine. “Something I don’t regret.

Well…I like your attitude,” he told me, smiling. “Although I don’t like yours Mr Lewiston,” he added, his voice suddenly going harsh. “Try to bring a whoopie cushion into my class again and you’ll find that your end of term Maths paper might just be mysteriously downgraded.

We'll always face hardships, that's just how things are, but you have to pick yourself up no matter how hard the fall.

Well... Emmett is real, and I’ve just broken up with Cadence.

Wells is teaching us to think. Burroughs and his lesser imitators are teaching us not to think. Of course, Burroughs is teaching us to wonder. The sense of wonder is in essence a religious state, blanketing out criticism. Wells was always a critic, even in his most wondrous and romantic tales. And there, I believe, the two poles of modern fantasy stand defined. At one pole wait Wells and his honorable predecessors such as Swift; at the other, Burroughs and the commercial producers, such as Otis Adelbart Kline, and the weirdies, and horror merchants such as H.P. Lovecraft, and so all the way past Tolkien to today's non-stop fantasy worlders. Mary Shelley stands somewhere at the equator of this metaphor.

We march through snow and we march through rain With naught to lose and naught to gain Sun and moon and sun again One day’s dawn is another day’s end   We come by day and we go by night We fall and rise again to fight Sword and spear and bow the same One man’s life is another man’s game   They fell like lightning and they raged like fire They lit the blaze on the funeral pyre Picked and chose the paths they trod One man’s will is another man’s blood   We live forever and we die today We’ve seen the end of eternity Time and fate outwit us all One man’s rise is another man’s fall

We may not die from age, but we grow weary with it.

We may say that the characters in fairytales are ‘good to think with’…[and that] the job of the fairytale is to show that Why? questions cannot be answered except in one way: by telling the stories. The story does not contain the answer, it is the answer.

We must be careful what we imagine, fear, or hope for. The echoes of our thought live on in eternity.

We must all allow ourselves the fantasy of projection from time to time, a chance to clothe ourselves in the imaginary gowns and tails of what has never been and never will be. This gives some polish to our tarnished lives, and sometimes we may choose one dream over another, and in the choosing find some respite from ordinary sadness. After all, we, none of us, can ever untangle the knot of fictions that make up that wobbly thing we call a self.

We must kill the guard before we can enter the palace.

We need the Fallen Legion,” I said without preamble, trying to catch my breath after running after her. “And I need an evil-proof bubble to put Jules in,” Firen said dryly. “That’ll teach me to start off a conversation with a demand,” I grumbled.

We need heroes, however outlandish, because although we might not be slaying real dragons, we all have our quests.

Wenn du in's Fettnäpfchen getreten bist und jemand dir freundlicherweise die Hand hinstreckt, um dich da rauszuholen, dann solltest du die Hilfe vielleicht annehmen, anstatt dich auch noch darin zu wälzen.

We pretended to be of mud instead of stars. We pretended not to fly.

We're all just moments and most of us don't matter. We study less than one percent of all humanity in our history books.

We're one pack, pup. A wolf who runs alone will never find success.

We’re going to make a tunnel for that ship. We’re going to make sure that little lady has every chance in the world to survive. If I get any trouble out of any of ya…” he paused. “I’ll handle it myself, do you understand?” Johan… “Vital Perception

We see what we want to see. We idealize each other with our own fantasies.

We should all be lucky enough to make something in this world half as fucked up as we were ourselves, something we could leave behind.

We Ruh are travelers. Our lives are composed of meetings and partings with brief, bright acquaintances in-between. - Kvothe

We’re to be married. Does it matter if I permit it?” “To me it does, yes,” says Merek. “And I imagine you, like me, appreciate the illusion of having a choice, even when illusion is all it is.

We should follow every supply that runs into the particular lake below, going upstream in terms of we can. When we do not find Drakes’ path, or even an additional, we should come back straight along,look yourself upward an additional way to obtain foods,and then do a similar for the next water for the south.

Westcliff sees an odd sort of logic in why you would finally be the one to win St. Vincent’s heart. He says a girl like you would appeal to…hmm, how did he put it?…I can’t remember the exact words, but it was something like…you would appeal to St. Vincent’s deepest, most secret fantasy.” Evie felt her cheeks flushing while a skirmish of pain and hope took place in the tired confines of her chest. She tried to respond sardonically. “I should think his fantasy is to consort with as many women as possible.” A grin crossed Lillian’s lips. “Dear, that is not St. Vincent’s fantasy, it’s his reality. And you’re probably the first sweet, decent girl he’s ever had anything to do with.” “He spent quite a lot of time with you and Daisy in Hampshire,” Evie countered. That seemed to amuse Lillian further. “I’m not at all sweet, dear. And neither is my sister. Don’t say you have been laboring under that misconception all this time?

Westcliff thinks that St. Vincent is in love with you.” Evie choked a little and didn’t dare look up from her tea. “Wh-why does he think that?” “He’s known St. Vincent from childhood, and can read him fairly well. And Westcliff sees an odd sort of logic in why you would finally be the one to win St. Vincent’s heart. He says a girl like you would appeal to…hmm, how did he put it?…I can’t remember the exact words, but it was something like… you would appeal to St. Vincent’s deepest, most secret fantasy.” Evie felt her cheeks flushing while a skirmish of pain and hope took place in the tired confines of her chest. She tried to respond sardonically. “I should think his fantasy is to consort with as many women as possible.” A grin crossed Lillian’s lips. “Dear, that is not St. Vincent’s fantasy, it’s his reality. And you’re probably the first sweet, decent girl he’s ever had anything to do with.

We study," said Serbitar. "And we train, and we plant flowers and raise horses. Our time is well occupied, I can assure you." "No wonder you want to go away and die somewhere," said Rek with feeling.

We want to fight.” “And I want J.K. Rowling to keep writing in the Potterverse, but I know that’s never going to happen,” I said blithely.

We’ve scrambled for our lives,” she said softly. “Now we have to scramble for our world.

We've seen firsthand the footprints of the Mordant's treachery.

We've already slept together and you made no objection.

We've got an unbeatable team."- Sauron

We've never had kings in Wadingburn, and I don't intend for us to start now.

We were the Colors of our dragons whether we lived or died. There were no other choices for us.

We would learn as much as we could, be as honourable as we could, be as courageous as we could, and be as happy as we could.