Best 4015 quotes in «fantasy quotes» category

And so shall honor Morgant," Gwydion said, "for what he used to be, and Ellidyr Prince of Pen-Llarcau for what he became.

And so the lion fell in love with the lamb." - Edward Cullen, Twilight

and their days make no story for they were good and joyful and without event

And the Flatline aligned the nose of Kuang's sting with the center of the dark below. And dove. Case's sensory input warped with their velocity. His mouth filled with an aching taste of blue. His eyes were eggs of unstable crystal, vibrating with a frequency whose name was rain and the sounds of trains, suddenly sprouting a humming forest of hair-fine spines. The spines split, bisected, split again, exponential growth under the dome of the Tessier-Ashpool ice.

And the more he gazed at her, the more he felt a twinge of something he couldn’t quite describe, an unknown surge that bubbled inside him from the first moment he’d caught sight of her, and it wouldn’t release him.

And that's how you go on. You lay laughter over the dark parts. The more dark parts, the more you have to laugh. With defiance, with abandon, with hysteria, any way you can.

And then, as if they were one person, Savette and Rakturan opened their eyes.

And then Harry Potter had launched in to a speech that was inspiring, yet vague. A speech to the effect that Fred and George and Lee had tremendous potential if they could just learn to be weirder. To make people's live surreal, instead of just surprising them with the equivalents of buckets of water propped above doors. (Fred and George had exchanged interested looks, they'd never thought of that one.) Harry Potter had invoked a picture of the prank they'd pulled on Neville - which, Harry had mentioned with some remorse, the Sorting Hat had chewed him out on - but which must have made Neville doubt his own sanity. For Neville it would have felt like being suddendly transported into an alternate universe. The same way everyone else had felt when they'd seen Snape apologize. That was the true power of pranking.

And then I knew that despite all the pain and hard work all of us had gone through, despite the sadness and anger we felt, in the end, everything was going to be fine. But I did not know when the end was, or if it was even near. But that did not matter. I preferred to look towards it in anticipation rather than worry about it. One new day equalled to one new adventure. And right now, I still had plenty of days left in my life. So I did not decide to sit down and plan out my life. Instead, I decided to sit back, relax, and see where life would take me.

And then what? "And then I will show you a trick that dragons have." A tiny flicker of hope sprang to life in my heart. "Oh, it should be more than a flicker. Haven’t you heard? We dragons can light anything ablaze.

And two minutes later, found herself digging in out of sheer boredom. It was awful. It was disgusting. The peas were mushy. The rice was overcooked. The meatballs tasted like feet.* And yet, she went on eating. *Yes, she knew what feet tasted like. Loviatar, all-time Worst-Mother-In-The-World champion, had not cooked often, but when she had…

And to do something that helps your coven survive, even after your own death, is the greatest gift you can possibly give them…” --Angela from Angela’s Coven

And we’d all live happily ever after... "Okay, that was a nice daydream, but maybe it’s time to come back to reality.

And there you stand- Far away from the distant reality, Far away in my breathing dream, Far away in the traces of my livid eyes, Far away in my hostile fantasy.

And those women were sneaky. They understood that including fantastical elements in their tales- golden eggs, signing harps, talking frogs- worked to mask a deeper purpose....it made the stories look on the surface like 'a mere bubble of nonsense' within which it was possible to 'utter harsh truths, to say what you dare' about the state of women's lives. Because they were just stories, right? Harmless little fantasies?

And we're not lost." We are so fucking lost. Literally adrift in the nothing space between universes.

And what, exactly, am I giving as I'm learning to do this giving thing?

And when his head slumped forward into his book, she giggled, for she knew that he was hers.

And when were theories useless? I was a thinker, not a fighter, and the world was always in need of thoughts.

And who is to say the truth can’t be a miracle?

And yet knowing all these mistakes were yours, beautifully yours, and you came out the better for it... the boy I left behind well on his way to becoming an extraordinary man and an extraordinary king." Merlin smiled. "If only from your choice of princess alone.

And you will spend the rest of your life wondering if I have disciples to avenge me. Hire your tasters, Burbesh. Until the Master of the Sleeps comes for you, you’ll never know a taste of anything that has not touched another’s lips first. You’ll never sleep in a bed that has not been first tossed for vipers. You’ll never sit in a chair that has not been tested for poisoned barbs in its cushions. You shall never see a bath drawn for you that you will not at first fear is acid. And you’ll never have another dream where my face is not grinning at you from the shadows.” -- From "Morality for Alchemists and Thieves

An ear-splitting screech pierced the silence, followed by another, striking his ears like metal against a hollow bell. The woosh woosh of wind being displaced brought Andrew’s attention skyward, and a glacial gust of paralyzing terror raced up his spine. The creature opened its mouth, and a blazing shaft of fire bellowed from above. Andrew barely had enough time to back beneath an awning for protection. Egnatious and Sebastian dove to the side while Firen sidestepped her impending doom, raising the katana in challenge. The screeching returned, except now the howls were coming from every direction. Firen’s chest heaved. “Did you see that?” she asked, her stormy eyes glinting with rapture and daring as she held her katana out, preparing for the next attack. “Did I see the dragon?” Sebastian asked, hysteria dangerously rising to the surface. He stood and brushed himself off. “Yes, I bloody well did see that enormous, scaly, fire-breathing dragon.

An elephant is almost a unicorn!

An Enforcer’s style is to destroy all magicians in sight and lap up their essence like a starved cur.

An elegant sari was draped across her figure; magnificent, painstakingly embroidered, and in a shade of deep red, it was even more lavish than the gowns she had worn every day since arriving at the castle. Her lips and eyes were painted, and though she looked beautiful she had never been more miserable.

An endless scream pierced the frigid night air and shook the world with its rage and sorrow. The aged stone and brick that had withstood the great quake over a hundred years ago now trembled before its pain, and even the austere grimace of the lonely grotesque, its only witness, softened in pity.

Angels pawning Halos, Swan-diving through warm drops of rain, Soaking up champagne-shaded rays of bliss.

Animals do not respect their master's brother, but they do respect their brothers as masters.

Anna, are you asleep?" He imagined Anna lying awake, eyes wide, staring at the ceiling, her heart full of yearning, but there was only silence. "I love you, Anna," he whispered, and he hung up the phone.

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.

Anything worth anything can be found in books.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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?

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.

Aren't we forever?