Best 488 quotes in «fairy tales quotes» category

LOVE is the answer to everything! Seriously! Everything! The Little People Journey into the Mystic Sea

Luna had told us not to drop the rose, not to leave the path. But we never dropped the rose - it was on me the whole time - and we didn't leave the path, not really. We just took a shortcut through the shadows and the brush, something idiots have been doing in fairy tales since the beginning of time.

Lyra had been born in the cold, and in the stark of winter, she thrived.

Madame d'Aulnoy is the true mother of the modern fairy tale. She invented the modern Court of Fairyland, with its manners, its fairies, its queens, its amorous, its cruel, its good, its evil, its odious, its friendly fées.

Magic is a naughty beast.

Man, Grandma, what big hair you have." "The better to style with, my dear.

Marilynn...passed out black cases to everyone. I opened mine to find an iPad inside. Several candidates whistled. Despite my agitated state, it impressed me too. Maybe wizard school wasn’t going to be as lame as I had thought. “All of your schedules and assignments will be done on these,” Marilynn explained. “The whole school is on these. We’ve had them for awhile now.

Matt was almost completely naked. A tattered loincloth and an ugly chain with a yellow diamond were his only apparel.

May you never grow too old to believe in magic and fairy tales.

Mirror Mirror on the Wall, Who Do I see Before Me? I see a Girl Who Is Fearless Because Her Reflection Reflects Her Faith. - Kailin Gow, Fearless Fairy Tales Series

Might I take this moment to give thanks to our loving Creator for supplying us with all our needs for this day and always!” Grampa Foster, The Little People Journey into the Mystic Sea

Miss Foxe's other passion was fairy tales. She loved the transformations in them. Everybody was in disguise, or on their way to becoming something else. And all was overcome by order in the end. Love could not prevail if the order of the tale didn't wish it, and neither could hatred, nor grief, nor cunning. If you were the first of three siblings, then you were going to make a big mistake, and that was that. If you were the third sibling, you couldn't fail.

Mrs. Potts beady black eyes narrowed,"Do you know how many glass slippers I have to stitch when I get home? There's a Mad Hatter serenading a toaster as we speak. There could be mayhem wreaking havoc all over the love in New Gotham, granted what thankless ingrates you are. But here I am!

More than Captain America your kids need Amelia Earhart – more than Ant Man, they need Abraham Lincoln - more than Green Arrow they need Gandhi – more than Iron Man they need Isaac Newton.

Mrs. Pott's beady black eyes narrowed,"Do you know how many glass slippers I have to stitch when I get home? There's a Mad Hatter serenading a toaster as we speak. There could be mayhem wreaking havoc all over the love in New Gotham, granted what thankless ingrates you are. But here I am! I've taken a chance on you..

Most intellectual development depends upon new readings of old texts. I am all for putting new wine in old bottles, especially if the pressure of the new wine makes the bottles explode.

My head says forget it, my heart says I’ll regret it, and what my stomach tells me, I should not ignore. Oh no, I gotta go, give me a leave, not your sleeve! I know this will cease, when I feel peace. So I will help a boy, come to Joy, a risk I shall take, it’s no mistake, my stomach tells me so.” Deetkatu, See the Little People…An Enchanting Adventure

My head says forget it, my heart says I’ll regret it, and what my stomach tells me, I should not ignore. Oh no, I gotta go, give me a leave, not your sleeve! I know this will cease, when I feel peace. So I will help a boy, come to Joy, a risk I shall take, it’s no mistake, my stomach tells me so.” Deetkatu, Meet the Little People…An Enchanting Adventure

My heart, it yearns for Cadoett, blessed kingdom by the sea. Though far away, I’m sent to roam, my soul it sings, ‘my city–my home, my city–my home.

My heart broke a little at her unblemished view of life: She still believed in innocent secrets, the heady rush of a good mystery, and happily ever after... (I wasn't about to disabuse her of those sweet notions.)...Little girls should be allowed to dream.

My name is Arianna Morganna Brittany DuLac--you can imagine why I went by the name Ryan.

Not all fairy tales come from the books.

Myths are different than fairy tales or legends. Legends are stories based in history and are more or less true. Myths, on the other hand, are stories containing a deeper truth—stories that transcend time. If you were to travel the world, you would find myths that are remarkably similar to one another—stories of heroes fighting the darkness with the light.

...Myths aren’t fairy tales or legends—they’re an honest attempt to explain mysteries...

Never go down to the darkest room. Stay far away from the rotting coffin. If you want to live through the night, let the devil sleep.

No one is too old for fairy tales.

Not all fairy tales have happily ever afters, some just have afters.

Nabokov calls every great novel a fairy tale, I said. Well, I would agree. First, let me remind you that fairy tales abound with frightening witches who eat children and wicked stepmothers who poison their beautiful stepdaughters and weak fathers who leave their children behind in forests. But the magic comes from the power of good, that force which tells us we need not give in to the limitations and restrictions imposed on us by McFate, as Nabokov called it. Every fairy tale offers the potential to surpass present limits, so in a sense the fairy tale offers you freedoms that reality denies. In all great works of fiction, regardless of the grim reality they present, there is an affirmation of life against the transience of that life, an essential defiance.

Never underestimate children... They can experience the same horrors as the rest of us without knowing any different.

Not all who are lost are lost forever.

Now Arthur, if humans could learn to gaze with their eyes or use their special sight, they would realize there is more to seeing than just what is in front of them!” Den the Wise Oak Tree, Meet the Little People…An Enchanting Adventure

Now Arthur, if humans could learn to gaze with their eyes or use their special sight, they would realize there is more to seeing than just what is in front of them!” Den the Wise Oak Tree, See the Little People…An Enchanting Adventure

Now fairy stories are at risk too, like the forests. Padraic Column has suggested that artificial lighting dealt them a mortal wound: when people could read and be productive after dark, something fundamental changed, and there was no longer need or space for the ancient oral tradition. The stories were often confined to books, which makes the text static, and they were handed over to children.

Nowhere hidden has ever turned away a goodheart guest.

Of course, fairy tales are transmissible. You can catch them, or be infected by them. They are currency that we share with those who walked the world before ever we were here. (Telling stories to my children that I was, in my turn, told by my parents and grandparents makes me feel part of something special and odd, part of the continuous stream of life itself.)

Once upon a time there was a man with no heart. Drifting through black-and-white life, caring naught for those hurt, and never, ever allowing another near enough to hurt him. Until, on the least likely day, the most unlikely place, the man with no heart met the most surprising person. He was fearless. He was strength and power. He wore his heart boldly on his sleeve. The man with no heart began, shockingly, to feel a movement in his breast. A stretching, a slow, steady beat...

OHHHH don’t make me cry, I’m a big strong guy, I can make you laugh and I’d never tell a lie, See my muscles on my legs when I swim, I can do back spins with the force of my fins. SOOOOO don’t make me cry, I’m a big strong guy, I can make you laugh and I’d never tell lie. The muscles in my heart are tougher than my shell, To “love” makes me stronger than to lift a barbell.” Willard the Sea Turtle, The Little People Journey into the Mystic Sea

Once upon a time,' I whispered, "there was a girl who got away.' The light burned a little less brightly through my lids. Maybe. 'Once upon a time there was a girl who changed her fate,' I said, louder. The words ran together like beads on a string. Like a story, or a bridge I could climb-- up, up, up, like a nursery-rhyme spider. 'She grew up like a fugitive, because her life belonged to another place." I held my fingertips out, feeling the ice of them melt the wall's fine, hot fizzing. 'She remembered her real mother, far away on an Earth made of particles and elements and /reason/. Not stories. And she ripped a hole in the world so she could find her way home. And she lived happily ever after in a place far, far from the Hinterland,' I said. I begged. 'And the freeze left her skin. And she found her real mother in the world where she had left her.' Slowly, slowly, I opened my eyes.

Once upon a time the fairy tales begin. But then they end and often you don't know really what has happened, what was meant to happen, you only know what you've been told, what the words suggest.

Once upon a time, there was a woman who lived in a cottage at the edge of the woods. She was neither young nor old, neither pretty nor unattractive. As such, people from the village didn’t take much notice of her. Nor did she take much notice of them. She spent her days foraging for roots and mushrooms in the forest, simmering broths in the cauldron at her hearth, and spinning wool into long strings that would be woven into shawls and mittens.

Oh, oh. Gerade habe ich mir noch ein Wolf gelacht, aber jetzt starre ich fassungslos auf den Hipster vor mir, der ganz offensichtlich ein Hipster-Wolf ist!

OMG. He's a gift shop, a lamb kebab with mint,/a solar panel poetry machine with biceps. He's the path/through the dark woods, the light on the page, a postcard/from the castle and a one-way ticket there. He's the most/astounding arrangement of molecules ever!/Just look at those tights! An honest-to-God prince at last.

Once upon a time, there was a naïve and innocent girl who thought she could tame the beast and live happily ever after. But the beast did not want to be tamed, for he was a beast and beasts care not for such things, and the girl died along with her dreams. From childhood's grave sprang a young woman, jaded before her years, who knew that beasts could wear the skins of men, and that evil could exist in sunlight, as well as darkness. Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.

One evening, after a particularly terrible row, the prince smashed his princess over the head with an old wooden clock and she tumbled to the floor, dead.

One of my favourite things to do when I write is to bring a sense of wonder to a normal everyday setting... Yes, there are magical elements, but there are also very down-to-earth elements and often what shines through isn’t the magic, but the lanterns that the characters light against the dark... If you substitute the words “fairy tale” or “myth” for “fantasy,” the reason I use these elements in my own work is that they create resonances that illuminate solutions to the real world struggle without the need for an authorial voice to point them out. Magic never solves the problems–we have to do that on our own–but in fiction it allows the dialogue to have a much more organic approach than the talking heads one can encounter in fiction that doesn’t utilize the same tools. [from the interview Year’s Best 2012: Charles de Lint on “A Tangle of Green Men”]

One is not a "believer" in fairy tales. There is no theology, no body of dogma, no ritual, no institution, no expectation for a form of behavior. They are about the unexpectedness and mutability of the world.

Our traditions teach us the past is not forgot, yet the past repeats the future believe it or not. If we dwell on the negative, we continue to make, an unhealthy life we must never forsake. Our fairy ring teaches us cause and effect, what we give to the world, returns to us direct!” Chepi, Meet the Little People…An Enchanting Adventure

One shouldn't be labelled a cynic just because one refuses to believe in fairy tales.

Our traditions teach us the past is not forgot, yet the past repeats the future believe it or not. If we dwell on the negative, we continue to make, an unhealthy life we must never forsake. Our fairy ring teaches us cause and effect, what we give to the world, returns to us direct!” Chepi, See the Little People…An Enchanting Adventure

Outbreaks of unvarnished truths in the backyard of our true self can be very precious and inspiring, even though we might inconsistently be tempted to give in to the exhilarating perfume of fables and fairy tales or to flattering praise and fiction. ("The day the mirror was talking back")