Best 4015 quotes in «fantasy quotes» category

When wisdom comes, transformation comes. Wisdom makes the difference between the succeeding man and the failing man.

When you fake emotion for a living, when you make your money providing fantasies for other people, tuning into their worlds and indulging them, you don’t invite someone into your world very easily.

When you live on the edge of a cursed forest, you do a lot of staring into the dark.

when you live outside the law, you have to be flexible

When you're meant to do something, life will have a way of giving you no option but follow the road you're meant to walk.

When your legs and arms are being torn from your body, you console yourself that you've not yet been beheaded. Of course, right? When you nerves are being extracted strand by strand and your flesh is being dried drop by drop, you simply see past the blood and the bones and think: Hey, at least they haven't torn me apart at the cellular level yet. Unnerving logic.

When you say fair, Samantha,” said Mr Green through a peculiar smile, “do you mean one of those travelling fleets of vehicles that arrive and set up things like spinning Waltzers and Big Wheels and all manner of machines that whizz people around in circles and up and down and from side to side? Machines that could...” Mr Green turned away and his unnatural smile became even more unsettling... “easily go wrong!

When you stop being owned by your emotions you'll stop feeling vulnerable to people. ~ Remiel

Where did you meet?” he pressed on. I shrugged and considered a little rephrasing. “I was out for a run.” “From who?” I leaned back to take a long, very long, slow sip of that beer. Knox leaned forward. “I think we’re both bullsh*tting here, you ever play that card game?” “With my grandma, every Sunday after church.

Where are you going?" she called after me, her voice mocking. "What's waiting for you out there?" "Nothing!" I shouted at her. "No one!

Where do they go, these dreams of mine? Do they live? Do they die? Do they fall? Do they fly?

Where do you get dreams like this?

Where am I?” I ask. “Where are my parents and my brother? Where’s my home? And who are you?” He blinks a couple of times before smiling faintly as though something has just amused him. “I’m afraid you’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.” Wizard of Oz references? I’m somewhere, I don’t know where, and that’s the best I get? Well, I’m not some dumb little girl willing to put up with that, and he certainly isn’t any kind of wizard. - Celestra Caine, FADE by Kailin Gow

Where are we?" "In a special place," he whispered, dragging his lips across her ear, "where magic is real.

Where are we?" Ni asked. "This is my work place and the center of Universe as well." Simone said. "Do you mean the tower is in the center of Universe?" Ni asked “I mean that we are both in space and inside the tower at the same time." "Why is it so dark here?" Ni asked. "At the beginning, it is always dark." Simone replied, "Then everything comes into existence little by little. Even Light is born out of Darkness.

Where are you taking me?” Andrew demanded, whirling on the Ferryman. His muscles tensed, hands curling in and out of fists. “To my master.” The voice was ghostly, whispers of black ash and death, words cold and detached. He had an idea who that was but asked anyway: “And who is your master?” No answer came. Andrew’s insatiable rage rose up and swallowed his grief like a yawning ocean mouth, the darkest depths surging to the surface to form a mighty tidal wave. He closed the distance and seized the Ferryman’s gaunt wrist. There was no substance, no life beneath the cloak. The Ferryman slowly turned his hooded head, and Andrew found himself looking into the black hole of a self-contained night. The olfactory of decay was a punch in the face. Andrew released the Ferryman’s wrist and hastily stepped back, rocking the boat as he put distance between him and the unnatural wind spilling from the gaping orifice. Andrew shivered, the tiny hairs on his neck saluting. The cloaked head faced forward again, and the wind died away.

Where have all the Fembots gone?

Where moments before the bright morning sun flickered through the branches of the huge oak trees surrounding the property, every-thing in a ten yard radius immediately went pitch dark. The air, already a chilly fifty degrees, dropped past freezing in an instant, and the pressure changed to the point where he thought his eardrums might burst.

Where have all the good men gone? Graveyards, mostly.” – Dread Emperor Malevolent III, the Pithy

Where have they gone?" "Wherever magicians used to go. Behind the sky. On the other side of the rain.

Where's the victory without opposition?--Joel

Wherever problem persist, wisdom is lacking. There is no problem anywhere except wisdom problem. Wisdom provides solutions where there is complications.

Whether we (humans) are living in a simulation or multiverse or in god made universe, some things are true everywhere. Freedom, unconditional love, goodness, consciousness , existence itself is real among those things.

Which skin shall I give you, Clara Ferber? Do you want fur? Do you want stone?

While parchment may burn and gold may be stained or melted down, the things that are truly important to us will never lose their value.

While I have the floor, here's a question that's been bothering me for some time. Why do so few writers of heroic or epic fantasy ever deal with the fundamental quandary of their novels . . . that so many of them take place in cultures that are rigid, hierarchical, stratified, and in essence oppressive? What is so appealing about feudalism, that so many free citizens of an educated commonwealth like ours love reading about and picturing life under hereditary lords? Why should the deposed prince or princess in every clichéd tale be chosen to lead the quest against the Dark Lord? Why not elect a new leader by merit, instead of clinging to the inbred scions of a failed royal line? Why not ask the pompous, patronizing, "good" wizard for something useful, such as flush toilets, movable type, or electricity for every home in the kingdom? Given half a chance, the sons and daughters of peasants would rather not grow up to be servants. It seems bizarre for modern folk to pine for a way of life our ancestors rightfully fought desperately to escape.

While his body was left behind, his soul soared into the heavens. He did not pause at Celestia’s gates. No, that was not the true Celestial realm. Even as it floated among the skies and hosted its angelic ward, it was nothing more than a city. The place the Hallowed sought was beyond such petty creatures. He did not give it another passing glance as he ascended.

While his brain lay slowly dying, Bevan felt his body come back to life.

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.

White sand, white foam, blue water-it's not a fantasy, it's real.

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

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

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 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 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 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.

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

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 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~