Best 4015 quotes in «fantasy quotes» category

She crossed her legs and kicked out her feet, clad in thick wool socks and boots big enough to house a little old lady.

She could just kill them. If she did they would be healed again in moments ☥ She'd better let sleeping demons lie. "Enlightenment." Coming soon

She couldn't live in denial of her own humanity.

She could have rambled with all the fervor of a woman who had loved one entity for longer than most races live, and with the inviolable, unquestioned certainty found in dementia. There were references dated and sealed with meticulous care which she would have enthusiastically opened with the mirth of one proclaiming a lifetime of honors and awards. But that singular event was freshly disturbed; its pores still drifted on the faint zephyr of remembrance.

She’d never kissed a man. She’d wanted to a few times before, but she’d never allowed herself to do so. Now, the instant his mouth touched hers, she knew she’d never want to kiss any man but him for the rest of her life. He was her one and only. He was everything she would ever want, everything she could ever need.

She did not want to know what charm he had used to make her love him so deeply. She did not want to know it wasn’t real.

She didn’t make him out to be perfect. Vhalla knew Aldrik was horribly flawed. But so was she. He was prone to anger and she prone to selfishness. But they strove together to be better, for themselves and for each other.

She despised weakness, especially her own. She'd seared most of her emotional needs with the white-hit iron of self-reliance and independence years before. ~Angels Unaware

Sheep buggerers!" he roared. "I was only going to eat your women and rape your men until you did that!

She fantasized sometimes too about killing him a little: a little poison in his pudding, a little flick-flick-flick with a fillet knife at his throat.

She floated across the boundary of realms, nothing more than a human shell. She existed but only as a shadow of who she once was.

She froze. Several silent moments passed between them. More than one stranger walked around their still figures. She tried to speak, but Quincy was mortified from feeling at such a severe disadvantage, something she had not felt since she was a little girl on the streets, a little girl in the foundling factory, a little girl who had sworn that she would never feel this way again.

She gritted her teeth. The man dances like a clod. I’d rather dance with Mr Jenkins, who can barely move.

She felt hot tears soaking his shirt as she began to sob. “Forgive you? What king asks forgiveness of a slave?” “Avin…” he gently pushed her away. “I have wronged you. Terribly.” “Yes,” she said sadly. “But we both know it cannot be reversed. Not now. To do so will only throw Windbourne back in turmoil.” She wiped away tears with the back of her hand and looked towards the window. “I can no longer love these people after what they did, but I can acknowledge that they have suffered enough. The long winter was not their fault, but neither was the lie that made them angry. And now simple people have been promised a humbled queen, and you must deliver.” He sighed. “It is too much to ask,” he said. “Then don’t.” Avin gave him the smallest, and saddest of smiles. “You are the king,” she said. “So train me.” The tears came then, and she softened in his arms. “Save me, Xander, lest I never feel again.” “I am sorry,” he said into her hair. “I am sorry I didn’t come. I am sorry I was not the one to kill your father for the hurt he caused you. I am sorry that I caused you even more. I should have known better. I should have never believed the worst.” He put his forehead against hers. “Let me make it better, my love.

She had learned to pay attention to the variations in Rokan's smiles. There was the sideways half-smile when he found something amusing; the slow, contented smile that appeared only rarely these days; and the wide, dazzling, unrestrained smile she had so far seen only twice, when he first came for her in the Mistwood and when they watched the hawk soar against the sky. And then there was this one, the reason for her watchfulness: the impish grin that meant he wanted to do something he knew was stupid and was going to do it anyhow.

She had never known that ice could take on so many shades of blue: sharp lines of indigo like the deepest sea, aquamarine shadows, even the glint of blue-green where the sun struck just so.

She had not meant to name them, but she could not help herself; and having done so she thought, Let their names be symbols that their lives are worth the keeping. Let them struggle a little the harder, to keep their names.

She had one thing to do, and she didn’t do it.

She had the kind of look that promised nothing good.

She has this passion to learn everything she can about life, and it is so amazing to see everything through her eyes. She’s guarded in a way that even she can’t explain, but she is embracing this life and giving it all. It’s beautiful. She’s beautiful.

she is born in the breath of a cloud

She kept thinking that a time like this required words—one million lines of type, laid out perfectly, with no ink stains, no backward letters—to say what should be said. But that couldn’t happen, and she didn’t know what else to put in its place.

She knew them all by name and by nature. Some were aromatic, others beautiful, but all were poisonous, her garden of deathly delights.

She knew that her lifework had changed forever that day. She was being called to use her gift to help prevent a tragedy such as this from ever happening again. And she knew, without question, that the whales and dolphins would reach out to her again, from the other side of the night . . . and she would be there.

She knows exactly what I like and what it does to me. She worships my body in its entirety and I allow it—I crave it.

She looked at her best friend as he unraveled the tightly wound cord from his heart and told her what she had been hoping to hear." from the upcoming The Witch of Belle Fleur

She looked at him. Amazed by his certainty that this would all turn out fine. Humbled that he had any faith in Her after years of abuse at her hand. Perplexed by the love her mistreatment didn't destroy. ~ Angels Unaware

She longed to hide beneath every drop of water in the sea.

She looked at him and felt a dagger pierce her heart, then she felt a warm chocolate feeling swallow her senses.

She moves like beauty, she whispers to us of wind and forest—and she tells us stories, such stories that we wake in the night, dreaming dreams of a life long past. she reminds us of what we used to be. She reminds us of what we could be.

She may have been the one whose name meant music, but his sounded like it. Saying it made her want to sing it, to lean out a window and call him home. To whisper it in the dark.

She placed her arms and hands strategically over the areas of her body that she felt uncomfortable with, but he moved closer, and his hands gently pulled them away too. “There’s no need to hide from me, you’re beautiful.” His lips then softly kissed the places that she tried to hide. At first, she felt self-conscious, but after taking several deep breaths, she focused purely on him, and not on her fears of not being sexy enough. She felt open, perhaps a little too exposed, more naked inside than out. She knew that her old inhibitions were causing her nervousness, and tried harder to relax. It was difficult having someone looking deeper than her just her body, something she wasn’t used to.

She probably fell asleep and was washed away by the tortoise waves!” -Arista

She refused to respond. She was a princess. No-she was a queen. She obeyed no-one.

She ran. Deeper, deeper into the mysterious Broceliande forest...

She seemed like the kind of woman who would fall in love with the sky.

She says affection is all very well being imagined, like a romantic fancy, but marriage should be based on practical purposes in order to last longer.

She slept a dreamless sleep free of dragons for she had slain them once again. The Children of Ankh

She suddenly felt herself gasping for air, as if she’d momentarily forgotten how to breathe. She rocked back in her chair and nearly fell over, then slumped against the green-covered table. The bowl fell from her fingers, shattering at her feet, broken glass scattering everywhere.

She smiled sinisterly. Light mist started to slowly swirl around us. All I could see was her, the tall rocks and the white wall. She beckoned to me. I took a step and another. I was now ankle deep into the water. The mysterious girl smiled like a predator.

She stared at her face in the mirror, feeling everything around her slipping away. The face stared back, and she wondered who was looking at her.

She smiled like knife on a velvet, she stretched like cat on the sun.

She stared at the phone, feeling guilty. She finally slid across the overstuffed Pleather couch and away from watching old episodes of The Twilight Zone. She was free tonight, apparently, so she might as well pay Ben a visit. She picked up the phone and dialed his cell.

She snorted in amusement at my remark. “When are the guards going to start to notice?” Keith peered into the distance. “Starting now,

She started life with a number, not a name. Class: S, No. 13295. She has them memorized by rote, though nobody ever calls her that. The Scientists feel foolish addressing her in long, bewildering strings of alphanumerics. They have told her so themselves. To save time, they simply call her “Snow.

She told herself there had been nothing outside, nothing peering in at her from the darkness. Nothing at all.

She was a dragon. She was a prince. She was a woman. It was the last that scared them most of all.

She was a perfectly clean slate--a total enigma.

... she was a ghost amongst the living.

She was a strong prince. Strong and terrible and fair