Fantasy Quotes

Tolkien came to regard the tale of Beren and Tinuviel as 'the first example of the motive (to become dominant in Hobbits) that the great policies of world history, "the wheels of the world", are often turned not by the Lords and Governors, even gods, but by the seemingly unknown and weak'. Such a worldview is inherent in the fairy-tale (and Christian) idea of the happy ending in which the dispossessed are restored to joy; but perhaps Tolkien was also struck by the way it had been borne out in the Great War, when ordinary people stepped out of ordinary lives to carry the fate of nations.

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.

Monsters almost always are culture's way of working out their fears.

Catherynne M. Valente

A woman of battle cannot take the same risks as a woman of the fields or a woman of the town. One may not strap a baby basket to one’s back along with one’s swords and ride off to battle." -- Renda of Brannagh,

Oh yes. You’ve done a marvelous job of succeeding at failure.

Choices are exhibited through the notions of free will,temptation challenges them.

Crimson "C.L. Williams"

When she had arranged her household affairs, she came to the library and bade me follow her. Then, with the mirror still swinging against her knees, she led me through the garden and the wilderness down to a misty wood. It being autumn, the trees were tinted gloriously in dusky bars of colouring. The rowan, with his amber leaves and scarlet berries, stood before the brown black-spotted sycamore; the silver beech flaunted his golden coins against my poverty; firs, green and fawn-hued, slumbered in hazy gossamer. No bird carolled, although the sun was hot. Marina noted the absence of sound, and without prelude of any kind began to sing from the ballad of the Witch Mother: about the nine enchanted knots, and the trouble-comb in the lady's knotted hair, and the master-kid that ran beneath her couch. Every drop of my blood froze in dread, for whilst she sang her face took on the majesty of one who traffics with infernal powers. As the shade of the trees fell over her, and we passed intermittently out of the light, I saw that her eyes glittered like rings of sapphires.("The Basilisk")

R. Murray Gilchrist

How may a mortal, face and defeat the Kraken

I loved his enormous aptitude for compassion, adoration and respect. That was his way of showing love. He lacked the capacity for wickedness, and that caressed my belief that he might just be an angel. My angel.

Relationships take work. It isnâ€™t true love if things go smoothly.

You are a blue rose, Letti. Itâ€™s almost impossible that you exist amongst the other roses but you do. You bring wonder to those who are lucky enough to find you. The blue rose is lonely, lost and awaits someone special to believe in them; the same feeling I got from you the day we met. Blue roses are incomprehensible and mysterious. And so are you.

He was king, if he didn’t have enemies he wasn’t doing it right.

…Amongst these legends of dragon hoards,Where secret, precious things are stored,There golden nugget and diamond shard,There treasure-keeper hoped to guard.As bolted doorway securely braced,hoping its treasures to ever hold,hoping beyond when time grows old,So stood the keeper in its place.A statue of unrelenting stanceStill stands victim to happenstance,For treasure-keeper did not bargainon a bit of chance and a bit of dwargen…”- Dwenzuak the dwargen

T. William Watts

Westcliff thinks that St. Vincent is in love with you.”Evie choked a little and didn’t dare look up from her tea. “Wh-why does he think that?”“He’s known St. Vincent from childhood, and can read him fairly well. And Westcliff sees an odd sort of logic in why you would finally be the one to win St. Vincent’s heart. He says a girl like you would appeal to…hmm, how did he put it?…I can’t remember the exact words, but it was something like… you would appeal to St. Vincent’s deepest, most secret fantasy.” Evie felt her cheeks flushing while a skirmish of pain and hope took place in the tired confines of her chest. She tried to respond sardonically. “I should think his fantasy is to consort with as many women as possible.”A grin crossed Lillian’s lips. “Dear, that is not St. Vincent’s fantasy, it’s his reality. And you’re probably the first sweet, decent girl he’s ever had anything to do with.

Psychiatrist and Auschwitz survivor, Viktor Frankl, stated, "...man is by no means merely a product of heredity and environment. There is a third element: decision. Man ultimately decides for himself!

Taking Morgana with it, the lightning arced back through the clouds; leaving behind nothing but the last echoing remains of her scream.

Curse us and crush us, my precious is lost!

Living with thieves, it would be a matter of moments before they picked the lock, but she certainly was not going to make it easy for them.

♫ Climbed that roost, alighted right there. Made mush of his head for the onlooker bears.A two-pronger her prize, a meat most rare. Do-gooders will pay. Do-gooders will fear. ♫

I was pregnable once,” Merill thought to contribute. She remembered how troublesome it made getting around, having a ripe belly. Couldn’t roll properly, couldn’t hop properly, couldn’t romp or flop properly. There were the cravings for roasted cabbage—she loathed cabbage, with its leaves and growing in rows. And labor! Merill passed out during childbirth. She’d endured burns, lacerations, rips, serrated teeth, nails, hooks and a trove of unmentionable harm-inflictors. Labor trounced them all and wriggled gleefully in the spray of blood and gore. “Being pregnable is no good. No good at all. Like growing a bitter melon in your belly.

Would you like me to put you out of your misery, before I put you out of your misery?

Paul Cude

My stomach knotted up as heat surged through me. Why did I feel like melting every time I saw him, or heard him talk? “Stop that right now.” I blushed. “I know what you’re doing, Jace, and it’s not going to work.”Jace and Charlie.

Goons were the lowest sort of homunculi, only superior to zombies.

A tomb is a vault, a vault is a home,” Mr. Sadlot said casually sniffing the flower in his lapel. “That’s where the deceased chose to reside and that is where he will be placed.” Kekaju and the Hidden Swamp

Robert W Sweeting

To connect is to dissolve the imaginary pyramids of artificial privilege.

Stefan Molyneux

My jaw went slack. Private rooms? Great, the button thing had been a step too far. Either he was totally getting the wrong impression—at least, not the impression I wanted to give—or…no. I didn’t want to consider the possibility he might know. People didn’t hide in forests in the middle of the night to protect themselves from a Binding. I was just weird like that. Rather, I had no choice, but…argh, what was I going to do now?!

Sam Dogra

If I could just get Broom to cooperate, we could fly, Glo said. Then we wouldn't have to worry about traffic. Harry Potter didn't have to worry about traffic.You relize Harry Potter isn't real, right? Of course, but he could be. I mean, maybe not Harry Potter, but someone like him. Who's to say?

Janet Evanovich

It be more a feeling. Something swirls out in the beyond, something unnatural. It’s the reason so few venture to these worlds. The black spaces are a part of it, pieces unraveling pulling apart. We’ve come too far, waited too long to turn back now. Only death awaits us here.

Jennifer Silverwood

Not as much as it bothers me that you just grabbed me without even trying to warn me first. If you’re trying to undo ages of prejudice, maybe you should start by acting civil.

Jennifer Silverwood

Arvex led the others into the light. “Wrecked if I ever dash miners again! This is one royal who won’t wipe their boots on our cousins anymore.” His grin made the carnage seem trivial.

Jennifer Silverwood

Gem thought it would be hilarious to shear his brother’s fine hair off while he was sleeping. Ever since then Menai decided he actually preferred the Mohawk. Both had inherited their mother’s Western Continent coloring, a blend of pearly white and sea grass green that set their bold sea-colored eyes off handsomely. And since they had grown old enough to realize this, they had become a pair of pre-pubescent manipulating terrors.

Jennifer Silverwood

There are moments in time when the axis of the universe shifts, when life as you knew it is irrevocably altered. When the hiss and grind of the gears fell silent, some deeply rooted instinctive part of me knew this was one of those moments.

Jennifer Silverwood

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.

Because there wasn’t anything else to do, he settled at the kitchen tablewith a bottle of mead and nearly emptied it. The anesthetic effect he hoped for hadn’t happened, though. At least not yet.

There were lots of things in this lifetime that I'd doubted, precious little I'd known for sure. But in that moment, I knew I would save her, or die trying.

Red Tash

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.

It's kind of strange...All these so-called myths and fables. Everyone seems to have the same ones. They cross cultures and continents. Everyone has their own versions of unicorns, witches, even the Fates. Now we know why. Because they're real.

Maurissa Guibord

Hammer does not think he will make it through this next winter. His breath comes short in his chest, and it takes much effort for him to get up and dressed. My body is still creaky and sound, but with every labor of his breath, I think that my heart will not endure. Enduring were Hammer’s gift, not mine, and I will not endure a life in which he does not laugh by my side and touch my hand, wish for the best things for me, and rejoice when I have them. My sturdy, blessed, stoic Hammer—how can life be, without him?

Amy Lane

If you cannot see the fineness in my Hammer, you'd best look at him with better eyes.

Amy Lane

Hammer", I finished lamely, as he waited patiently for my thoughts to find their voice, "we have got to find better words for the things we have in our hearts.""Words seem to be weak things," he murmured into my hair, and I could only hope our hearts would prove stronger.

Amy Lane

I know these are only dreams. I know these days are long past. I wake to a dream in which Hammer’s breath has stopped, and mine with it, and hearts have gone to a quiet sunny meadow with the sweetest little cottage in the middle, with a millwheel and a stream. Our bodies will lie tangled until they become earth, like roses twining so closely there is no beginning and no end, and only the shades of beauty that were their growing.Every dream I ever had as a child has come true, simply because Hammer loved me. Perhaps this one will too.

Amy Lane

It was an irresistible development of modern illustration (so largely photographic) that borders should be abandoned and the "picture" end only with the paper. This method may be suitable for for photographs; but it is altogether inappropriate for the pictures that illustrate or are inspired by fairy-stories. An enchanted forest requires a margin, even an elaborate border. To print it coterminous with the page, like a "shot" of the Rockies in Picture Post, as if it were indeed a "snap" of fairyland or a "sketch by our artist on the spot", is a folly and an abuse.

I never draw blood on a first date.

Talla Demoniac Dance

Deception was an inherent trait of intelligent beings. Even his love, in her ample ardor, would weave him a guilty lie for his own good. And he treasured her just as well for those tales he was sure she'd already spun.

Gods, man, don't you start now,' I said softly. 'We're going to get a terrible reputation if we just keep travelling across the countryside crying all the time.

Sebastien de Castell

The water never stops, never gives up, and denies no faults in the path it takes,” he explained, my eyes still focused down the ravine, “It moves silently, only a mere trickle to entertain itself as it causes a massive gash in the world. This, Zack, is true power.

Daniel "Z" Hastings

I had to find Mr. Brentwood. And I had to save him. Zeus, Inc. had saved the world 50 years ago when we had depleted our energy resources. The very same Zeus, Inc. that now powered a majority of the known world. And that power had come from the man himself. Without him? We would all be plunged into total darkness, knocked back to the literal dark ages. Chaos could and probably would ensue.

I quickly dropped my hands and changed the subject. "So those two who visited me the other night. Who were they?" I asked.He smiled, knowingly. "Ares and Aphrodite."Of course, I thought. In fact, I think I had already sort of figured that out. Although in my mind they were still Mr. Scowly Face and Miss Perfect Bitch. I found those the names I had given them much more appropriate

Swords can’t solve every problem.

I consider fantasy the heir of mythology, addressing a real human need to seek out answers to life’s many mysteries. It is a genre that can tell an entertaining and enthralling story on the surface, and yet deliver a potent message underneath, where everything becomes a symbol of something greater.

Writing is the place where I can be as bold and compassionate and wise as I choose.

I was born into chaos. I didn’t know what peace felt like.

Shannon A. Thompson

Fantasy is a wise lie.

The only things known to go faster than ordinary light is monarchy, according to the philosopher Ly Tin Weedle. He reasoned like this: you can't have more than one king, and tradition demands that there is no gap between kings, so when a king dies the succession must therefore pass to the heir instantaneously. Presumably, he said, there must be some elementary particles -- kingons, or possibly queons -- that do this job, but of course succession sometimes fails if, in mid-flight, they strike an anti-particle, or republicon. His ambitious plans to use his discovery to send messages, involving the careful torturing of a small king in order to modulate the signal, were never fully expanded because, at that point, the bar closed.

Terry Pratchett

It was hard to describe what she had sensed, but it had been distinct and clear, like the shape of a leafless tree against the sky, or a crow flying across a ploughed field. She hesitated to close her eyes again, for it had risen up close to her face like something appalling.

The man is a monster. The worst I have ever seen, in fact, since I last looked in the mirror. The truth? I am rotting too. I am buried alive, and already rotting. If I was not such a coward I would kill myself, but I am, and so I must content myself with killing others in the hope that one day, if I can only wade deep enough in blood, I will come out clean.

Joe Abercrombie

What’s the difference? Fill a hundred pits with dead Northmen, congratulations, have a parade! Kill one man in the same uniform as you? A crime. A murder. Worse than despicable. Are we not all men? All blood and bone and dreams?

Joe Abercrombie

I will tell him that I've always thought he was a monster. And that I want to be his bride

And Jabim is the Lord of broken things, who sitteth behind the house to lament the things that are cast away. And there he sitteth lamenting the broken things until the worlds be ended, or until someone cometh to mend the broken things. Or sometimes he sitteth by the river's edge to lament the forgotten things that drift upon it.A kindly god is Jabim, whose heart is sore if anything be lost.

What gave it away? When she loaded me bound and gagged into the back of her truck? Or when she actually said. "I'm ready to kill you and throw your body inn the swamp?"Hey for a while there, it looked like you were going to talk your way out of it. I didn't want to interfere.

Kelley Armstrong

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