Best 4015 quotes in «fantasy quotes» category

Some women have kissed—and some are kissing—a lot of frogs, even though the very first man that they have each kissed was and is still a prince.

Some truths are hard to swallow, so we share it within tales that most people will accept without being frightened by the truth hidden within.

Some years ago I had a conversation with a man who thought that writing and editing fantasy books was a rather frivolous job for a grown woman like me. He wasn’t trying to be contentious, but he himself was a probation officer, working with troubled kids from the Indian reservation where he’d been raised. Day in, day out, he dealt in a concrete way with very concrete problems, well aware that his words and deeds could change young lives for good or ill. I argued that certain stories are also capable of changing lives, addressing some of the same problems and issues he confronted in his daily work: problems of poverty, violence, and alienation, issues of culture, race, gender, and class... “Stories aren’t real,” he told me shortly. “They don’t feed a kid left home in an empty house. Or keep an abusive relative at bay. Or prevent an unloved child from finding ‘family’ in the nearest gang.” Sometimes they do, I tried to argue. The right stories, read at the right time, can be as important as shelter or food. They can help us to escape calamity, and heal us in its aftermath. He frowned, dismissing this foolishness, but his wife was more conciliatory. “Write down the names of some books,” she said. “Maybe we’ll read them.” I wrote some titles on a scrap of paper, and the top three were by Charles de lint – for these are precisely the kind of tales that Charles tells better than anyone. The vital, necessary stories. The ones that can change and heal young lives. Stories that use the power of myth to speak truth to the human heart. Charles de Lint creates a magical world that’s not off in a distant Neverland but here and now and accessible, formed by the “magic” of friendship, art, community, and social activism. Although most of his books have not been published specifically for adolescents and young adults, nonetheless young readers find them and embrace them with particular passion. I’ve long lost count of the number of times I’ve heard people from troubled backgrounds say that books by Charles saved them in their youth, and kept them going. Recently I saw that parole officer again, and I asked after his work. “Gets harder every year,” he said. “Or maybe I’m just getting old.” He stopped me as I turned to go. “That writer? That Charles de Lint? My wife got me to read them books…. Sometimes I pass them to the kids.” “Do they like them?” I asked him curiously. “If I can get them to read, they do. I tell them: Stories are important.” And then he looked at me and smiled.

Som man jagar får man äta.

So now you're on the run,' Warrick said wistfully. 'Travelling the Dark Highway, a lone wolf. With your friend, who is another wolf. Two lone wolves. Two wolves, really. Not really alone. Two wolves in a car. Travelling. One of them naked and bloody. The other with her ass hanging out.

So rest a while, we can talk in the cool of the evening. Or the cool of the morning. There 's seldom as much hurry as I used to think there was." -Hawk Who had been Archmage The Other Wind

Sorcerers believe that an action taken for the right reasons has an unreasonable chance of success.

So self-assured were they all by nature that it never occurred to me to doubt that their perfection was predetermined by forces I did not understand. They were all royalty. They were all gods. They were all broken.

So that’s when the witch somehow pulled off her own restraint and flung herself at me like a beautiful and deadly panther. I think she’d seen my stupid clipboard and realized that I’d been writing down sordid lies about her mental state. I’m very jealous of her, you see, and use my middle management position…

SORRY, I'LL REPUDIATE FAKE WORD!!! lucu memang kalo harus dikendaliin orang yang cuma pintar menaruh kata di bibirnya, orang yang bisanya cuma memberikan kalimat Dewa dimana mereka sendiripun tidak menerapkan kalimat tersebut di hidupnya..

So tall and lithe in his suede and leather outfit. So utterly gorgeous it almost ached to look at him.

So these are the fresh meat, eh?” Zuko smirked. I cringed when he said fresh meat. How demeaning. “Well, I don’t know how well all of you can fight. So I’ll find out the quickest and simplest way.” He raised a scarred arm and pointed it at all of us, “ATTACK THE FRESH MEAT!

So that's how it was. Palaces, kings... and thugs like that, who, like locusts, move from one century to another.

So, we are searching for some form of difficult, uncooperative creature that apparently can change shapes and does not wish to be found?

So what did you do, drug me, stuff me in the trunk, then dump me like a sacrificial offering into that vampire’s coffin? - Shella

So, what you’re basically telling me is death is boring but no worse than hanging out with family.

So why hadn’t he confronted me? Why hadn’t he torn through my lies and forced me to own up that I’d caught him in a Binding? It wasn’t like he could just brush this off. And that smile before he left, as if he’d been pulling my leg to see my reaction… I shook my head. Ryan was certainly providing his fair share of riddles. There was the tiny possibility he was still clueless and was just teasing me, but I doubted anyone could be that naïve. Even him. My mind began to tick over, desperate for an answer. Only one other thing stuck out in his behaviour. Maybe he was going for a fair exchange strategy. He wouldn’t question my secrets, in the hope I wouldn’t question his. Now that was naïve.

So why isn't the world overrun with evil spirits?" Moira stared at her, a half-smile on her face. "Who says it isn't?

So you know that all living things share the same energy source and that every action that humans do to nature will affect everything on this planet.

Space: the gaping hole between land and other land.

Speak peace unto the world and good souls will stand.

Splendor was the decree of the day.

Squeezing her eyes shut, hating every moment, the put a single finger in and moved it around. “There’s nothing,” she lamented. “Go deeper.” Alice did. “Deeper.” “There’s nothing,” she yelled, pulling out her hand in anger and humiliation. “Of course there is nothing,” the Hatter said. “Who ever heard of such a ridiculous thing?” “So why did you make me do it?” Alice demanded. “Because it was really hot,” he answered.

Stă în legea Universului şi în vastitatea lui ca odată cu apariţia unei Mari Forţe să se nască o alta care să o poată echilibra.

Standing to leave, he looked at her one last time, hating her and loving her just the same. She was yet another thing tying him to the city, his duty to her like a straitjacket holding him against his will. A locked box he couldn’t find a way out of.

STARBUCK: There’s no such thing as a plain woman. Every real woman is pretty. They’re all pretty in a different way, but they’re all pretty. LIZZIE: Not me. When I look in the looking glass.... STARBUCK: Don’t let Noah be your looking glass. It’s gotta be in-side a you. Then one day that looking glass will be the man who loves you. It’ll be his eyes maybe. And you’ll look in that mirror and you’ll be more than pretty. You’ll be beautiful. “The Rainmaker” by R. Nash

Stars are the souls of old sailors. They plot the skies and guide the wayward home.

Star, pillows don't attack dogs," Sam said. "Or anything else," Turtle added.

Staying relaxed was helping him cope with the drug induced juddering vision that could be best described as being like a Hitchcockian visual effect operated by a hyperactive squirrel that shook the whole universe closer and farther away. If you went with it, it was quite pleasant, as long as you didn't introduce any lateral movement like turning your head or the car. This caused the universe to try and slide away from underneath you. The other side effect was the constant feeling you ought to try to twist your head off, in a good way.

Step into the darkness with me, child... I will make of you a God.

Still, I was thinking that this was all wrong, despite feeling so nice, for once again one of my most sacred and deepest erotic fantasies was brutally being shattered, and once more it was all because of Ami. After all, it had been one of my fondest dreams, as a teenager, to lie in bed cuddling with a cute girl, or even with Yumi. Of course, in those many imaginations, we were both naked and we were having wild passionate sex as well as cuddling, but there before me at that very moment was the sad pathetic reality.

Still, X recognized himself in Slyvie's face. It made him feel less alone. It made him feel answered. It made something inside himself-something that'd always felt slightly askew-click into place. The Brink of Darkness, #2

Stop moping and think of a solution. A voice in his head told him. If you want to find your mojo again, then get on with it and stop wallowing in self-pity. This voice spoke the harsh truth. He needed to man-up. Nodding, Mortimer set his face in a line of steely determination, created a pile of papers and began to draft down possible ideas. Mass suicide? Too messy. Global war? Too soon. Revenge cult? Too predictable. NO.

Stop! Ok, seriously, how old are you two? You’re acting like teenagers instead of old ass immortal men!" “Well, yea we are kind of old, but we’ve been around so long, we don’t have anything better to do. Living a long time can really turn you into a cranky bitch. Just wait ‘till you meet my father. We do all we can to enjoy ourselves. But I’m serious when I need to be.”~ Ariadne Phillips and Taznikos Abyssos

Stop thinking about all that is wrong, and focus on what is right. It's there that you'll step out of the crazy, rise out of the rabbit hole, and start living again.

Stories of Fantasy are nothing more than the retelling of our own triumphs and sad, sad tragedies ... Tod Langley I have that painted on my office wall and love to stare at it.

Storytellers are master manipulators transforming non-reality (grounded in reality) into vicarious experience.

Storytelling is the art of weaving ordinary words into extraordinary worlds.

Stories are full of people who find that, in extreme situations, they’re capable of so much more than they imagined they were. Real life is full of people who find that they’re capable of so much less.

Suae quisque fortunae faber est

Stupid dire warnings of imminent doom. They always put me in a bad mood.

Suddenly, it seems obvious to me: Only fantasy books can make sense of the skewed reality in which I live.

Success is hard, rewards are scant and the glory not always there.

Such is the passage, x. 14, where, after giving an account that the sun stood still upon Gibeon, and the moon in the valley of Ajalon, at the command of Joshua, (a tale only fit to amuse children). This tale of the sun standing still upon Motint Gibeon, and the moon in the valley of Ajalon, is one of those fables that detects itself. Such a circumstance could not have happened without being known all over the world. One half would have wondered why the sun did not rise, and the other why it did not set; and the tradition of it would be universal; whereas there is not a nation in the world that knows anything about it.

Such a state of affairs feeds a man's pride. It flatters men, even more, when they see love and admiration in the eyes of a young woman.

Sulphurous wind gusted in his wake; the dust of the street swirled and the folds of his black coat flapped against his thin body.

Such a distant, forgotten thing, this Light.

Su corazón latía con ferocidad, ansiando pasar aunque fuera un segundo más a su lado.

Suit yourself, but don’t pretend you would have done any better. There are only so many options a man has when he’s about to lose everything.

Summer queens are fine and fair, with pretty ribbons and flowers in their hair. Winter queens are cold and hard, with frosted crowns made of icy shards.