Best 488 quotes in «fairy tales quotes» category

When we were children, everything scared us. The harmless dragonfly, for example, was called 'the devil's darning needle.' The creature hovered all around us int he summertime, ready to sew up the ears and lips of disobedient children. To us, even a common snipe, owl, or bittern calling from the marsh, might be a voice from the other side.

When you are open and aware, it allows for all magical possibilities! We, here in the forest, can see all that goes on in our environment on the surface; but we have true awareness that sees beyond the shallow! This belief comes from the depths of wisdom that there is more than meets the eyes!” Den the Wise Oak Tree, See the Little People…An Enchanting Adventure

When you are open and aware, it allows for all magical possibilities! We, here in the forest, can see all that goes on in our environment on the surface; but we have true awareness that sees beyond the shallow! This belief comes from the depths of wisdom that there is more than meets the eyes!” Den the Wise Oak Tree, Meet the Little People…An Enchanting Adventure

When your heart is broken, it’s easier to follow rules

When you truly believe in the desires of your heart, they show themselves to you, creating a world you wish to see. When you believe in the bad things of your world, they also become visible, weighing on your heart, which makes peace hard to find.” Den the Wise Oak Tree, See the Little People…An Enchanting Adventure

…while the outside world was full of danger, I knew my interior. I was certain that I could oust an intruder there.

Who am I kidding? This isn’t a fairy tale. It’s my life.

Why didn't my father get to give Mom the fairy tale? Why do most people fail to give each other the fairy tale?

Why did you wear heels? How are you supposed to fight a gargoyle in what you're wearing?

Why have they failed to see this the night before? Was it because of the darkness? Or was it because of the shadows cast from his own heart?

Why so sad?" Zach queries in fairy-tale tones. "Rachel?" "O my brother Ivanushka," she recites. "A heavy stone is round my throat, silken grass grows through my fingers, yellow sand lies on my breast." "That's perishing gloomy," Zach remarks. "It ends happily though. Gracious! Everything sounds depressing this morning," adds Rachel. "There's a teacher at my school, she's very young, but she goes, Gracious! Just like a dowager. Makes me laugh. Except this morning. I can't help it. I am too depressed. I hate those voices so much. In the Gardens." "Stop listening," Zach scolds and put his hands in her hair—silken grass grows through his fingers.

With a glance back towards the house, he pulled the secret sketches from within. He'd been working at them on and off for a fortnight now, ever since he'd come across Cousin Eliza's fairy tales among Rose's things. Though they were written for children, magical stories of bravery and morality, they had made their way beneath his skin. The characters had seeped inside his mind and come alive, their simple wisdom a balm for his swirling mind, his ugly adult troubles. He had found himself in moments of distraction scribbling lines that had turned themselves into a crone at a spinning wheel, the Fairy Queen with her long thick plait, the Princess bird trapped in her golden cage.

Yes, he knew it was crazy to be this obsessed over an encounter that had taken up maybe sixty seconds of his life. (Or had it been an hour and sixty seconds?) But what an encounter. His fingers still felt the bones and flesh through her sweater, his tongue still tasted her mysterious bitter-greens mouth, her voice still haunted him with that whispered 'Help me.

With all control look for the hole, your mind gets weak, unless it’s truth you seek. Swirled and twirled into another world, into the smog, a doorway within the fog.” Deetkatu, The Little People Journey into the Mystic Sea

With natural law there is no flaw, we must act in truth and be smart.” Grampa Foster, Meet the Little People…An Enchanting Adventure

Yakov frowned at her. "Be a good sport; it'll be fun!" "Your definition of 'fun' is twisted—whether it is due to your ego or to taking too many thumps to the head, I do not know." "You've got to come. The best adventures I've had have been with just the three of us," Yakov said. "Funny," Benno said. "All of my worst memories have involved the two of you.

Yes, Cinderella won a real prize - a man who couldn’t see her true worth until she fitted in the shoe properly.

Yes sir, the fish was left in place of the crystal ball. It's been bagged and tagged for analysis.” Great. Now we have another red herring on our hands.

You make peace with one sister only to declare war on the other. It’s always like that with peace, isn’t it? Always to someone’s detriment, already sowing the seed for the next war.

You are mine, and I am thine, and no power on earth shall make it otherwise.

You are the fairy tale told by your ancestors.

You don’t need princes to save you. I don’t have a lot of patience for stories in which women are rescued by men.

You don’t know anything about me.” “No, I know not everything about you. But I sense enough to know you have mistaken obsession with drive, guilt with injustice. I know you want to escape what you are, cabbage fairy,” he said, reaching for his hood and gloves and tucking them into the waistband of his trousers. “Your desires are no different from my own, I simply have the courage to face them.

You'll get fired if anyone finds out about us!" "So many rules in this century," Vane muttered.

You might just be compelled to hear, that there is folklore about a boy so dear, a legend the fairies readily discern, of a good King’s rule upon his return. A boy, a boy is in front of me, I know not who this human could be. I will just become a part of this tree! Unless he cries a desperate plea, I shall then be allowed to reach out to thee.” Deetkatu, See the Little People…An Enchanting Adventure

You mean to tell me that you have made a human friend? It could be dangerous and I must urge it to end! Deetkatu, where is your sense?” Grampa's tone was abruptly tense. Grampa Foster, Meet the Little People…An Enchanting Adventure

You don't feed nightingales on fairy-tales

You mere device," he gnarled. "You platitude! Your Gollux ex machina!

You mean to tell me that you have made a human friend? It could be dangerous and I must urge it to end! Deetkatu, where is your sense?” Grampa's tone was abruptly tense. Grampa Foster, See the Little People…An Enchanting Adventure

You reminded me of what I lack. Sometimes, it's the right place to begin." "Begin what?" the boy asked. "The right place to begin looking for what you need to find.

Your American fairytales end that way.  Real fairytales end in blood or tears.

...your heart spoke for you. You gave up everything for me.

You’re wrong about one thing: fairy-tales do exist. Millions of existing parents read existing fairy-tales every night from existing books to kids who, funnily enough...’ ‘... exist, yeah, I know. I mean it’s fantasy, not reality.

A boy was regarded King to be, in a land only a child could see. We admit it could be a difficult task, just in case you are inclined to ask, for those who would even vaguely begin, to remember the child that comes from within, of a modern world still hardened by past and rules that can make you grow up fast. Yet into the imagination, we hope you escape, from beliefs that your life may potentially shape; try to let go of what you normally resist, while exploring the way nature and a boy co-exist.” See the Little People…An Enchanting Adventure

You see, none of these conflicts are about things that people only sort of like. It is always about love. You may think me blasphemous to use the Passion of the Christ as an example of drama, but not so: this is the one true story, the greatest story ever told, the tale of tales even as Christ is the King of Kings, and all truly inspired fairy tales and fiction have to contain some echo or reflection of the One True Tale, or else it is no tale of any power at all, merely a pastime. The most powerful and potent tales, even when they are told awkwardly and without grace or poetry or craft, are stories of paradise lost and paradise regained; sacrifice, selfless love, forgiveness and salvation; stories of a man who learns better.

You say those things because you haven’t felt what I felt. Don’t you know how painful it is to be abandoned by your dearest friend?

You suppose that you could walk around, but your feet tell you that the map leads directly through the briar wall, and you can’t stray from the path that has been laid out for you. Remember what happened to the little girl, your great-grandmother, in her red woolen cape. Maps protect their travelers, but only if the travelers obey the dictates of their maps. This is what you have been told.

You think us fairies don’t understand sarcasm? We invented sarcasm.

You've honey on your tongue, ma fifille," Maman once said. "If you'd lived in earlier times, you could have been a troubadour." "...There aren't any troubadours any more, are there, Maman?" Marie said. "And if there were, girls wouldn't be allowed to be one." "Probably not," Maman agreed sadly. "I'll be one anyway," I said with determination. Maman smiled and gently pulled on my hair. "I'm sure you will, ma fifille, a clever girl like you. You can do whatever you like in this world if you just have courage enough.

A boy was regarded King to be, in a land only a child could see. We admit it could be a difficult task, just in case you are inclined to ask, for those who would even vaguely begin, to remember the child that comes from within, of a modern world still hardened by past and rules that can make you grow up fast. Yet into the imagination, we hope you escape, from beliefs that your life may potentially shape; try to let go of what you normally resist, while exploring the way nature and a boy co-exist.

a gang of unpredictable ruffians by day who turned to enthralling storytellers after dark. "I would sometimes join them, and listen for a great part of the night to some of the finest fairy tales and most romantic legends it has ever been my fortune to hear.

A fairy-tale life exists only in fairy tales.

Aging and the prospect of dying by no means enhance the attractiveness of fictitious comforts to come in paradise, or the veracity of malicious myths about hellfire and damnation. Fear and feeblemindedness cannot be credibly pressed into service to support fantastic claims about the cosmos and our ultimate destiny. Whether one would even consider turning to religion in advanced years has much to do with upbringing, which makes all the more important standing up to the presumptions of the religious in front of children. One would regard the Biblical events – a spontaneously igniting bush, a sea’s parting, human parthenogenesis, a resurrected prophet and so on – that supposedly heralded God’s intervention in our affairs as the stuff of fairy tales were it not for the credibility we unwittingly lend them by keeping quiet out of mistaken notions of propriety.

ah, life— the thing that happens to us while we’re off somewhere else blowing on dandelions & wishing ourselves into the pages of our favorite fairy tales.

Ah—now you think I have been lying to you, that this is only a story. It has a king in it. And while a story with Death might be true, a story with a king in it is always a fairy tale. But remember, this comes from a time when kings were as common as corn. Plant a field and you got corn. Plant a kingdom and you got a king. It is that simple.

All experiences are stories to be told and must be written.

…a kingdom right on the shore, surrounded by gray mountains and bright green meadows. ‘Tis a place filled with fine castles born from the ocean, itself. The very walls are made of limestone and pearls, thick and heavy, a glistening, natural fortress soaked in golden sunlight. No man could calculate its worth, because it exceeds all of nature’s wealth. It is a great miracle, a grand dream not of our world. It is a beacon, a strong, gleaming lighthouse guiding great ships home. I dare not describe it more, for my words do not do it justice…

All the queens of my acquaintance have children, some three, some seven, and some as many as twelve; and my queen has not one. I feel ill-used." So he made up his mind to be cross with his wife about it. But she bore it all like a good patient queen as she was.

All of the great mythologies and much of the mythic story-telling of the world are from the male point of view. When I was writing The Hero with a Thousand Faces and wanted to bring female heroes in, I had to go to the fairy tales. These were told by women to children, you know, and you get a different perspective. It was the men who got involved in spinning most of the great myths. The women were too busy; they had too damn much to do to sit around thinking about stories. [...] In the Odyssey, you'll see three journeys. One is that of Telemachus, the son, going in quest of his father. The second is that of the father, Odysseus, becoming reconciled and related to the female principle in the sense of male-female relationship, rather than the male mastery of the female that was at the center of the Iliad. And the third is of Penelope herself, whose journey is [...] endurance. Out in Nantucket, you see all those cottages with the widow's walk up on the roof: when my husband comes back from the sea. Two journeys through space and one through time.

All these threads, like the ley-lines he'd read about in his Time-Life history books, converging on the Cicciaro girl, who lay there unaware, a glass-coffined beauty whose kingdom was in ruins.