Fantasy Quotes - Page 17

Samantha turns toward us as we enter and her mouth drops open. “You.” Pure joy floods her face like sunlight falling through storm clouds, and she runs up to me, laying hands on either side of my face as she gazes deeply into my eyes. “There you are.

Suzanna J. Linton

Great! I’m addressing the King of Altoln…about who knows what, but I’m at the centre of it and everyone’s looking at me now, oh for all the gods’ sake Falchion, swallow it down and say something damn you.

Gavin scratched his head, idly wondering what his father would tell him right about then. Probably steal the slave and run. Father's solution was always to steal and run. But he had a job to finish.t"All right," he said finally, "here's what we'll do. We'll pretend this night didn't happen." tThat earned another sarcastic look.

Suzanna J. Linton

Before she could let herself think, Clara burst from the door and bolted for the table. People just began turning when she grasped the guest and shoved him to the ground, the chair flying backwards. Wine and food spilled everywhere as he flung out his arms. For a moment, she felt a swift pressure, as if her hair was being pulled, before strong hands gripped her, flinging her to the floor. A boot pressed into her back and she felt the cold tip of blade on her neck above her slave's collar.

Suzanna J. Linton

Emmerich's heart in his throat, he could only stare down at Monica, who looked up at him with glassy eyes as she shivered with pain and choked on blood.

Suzanna J. Linton

Oh-ho, so you are a witch. More like a witchling, as you're too small to be a full witch.” (Emmerich)

Suzanna J. Linton

A novel is a bridge from one heart to another. - Anon

If I'd learned anything, it was that the gods never had good news - especially when it was delivered by the resurrected corpse of your worst enemy.

Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life… You give them a piece of you. They don't ask for it. They do something dumb one day like kiss you, or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase like "maybe we should just be friends" or "how very perceptive" turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. Nothing should be able to do that. Especially not love. I hate love.

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

What if the Devil doesn't know he's the Devil?

Cathrine Goldstein

Oooo wee! You see that chump go flying? Look’eah, nothing like charred demon to make a brotha feel right. - Calvin Freeman (Sineaters‬:Devotion Book One)

Fantasy is unconstrained by truth.

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.

He turned his gaze upon her, and their eyes not only met, the pupils shook hands, exchanged business cards, and sat down for tea together.

The problem with Fate is that its own purpose is often hidden in the path of the journeyed, whether they realized it or not.

Antoinette Turner

We spent 10 years writing our first fiction story and truly hope people like it.

I love you all for bearing with me, whether I was asking your opinion on the best sources to base the magic in the book off of, hearing your suggestions on wording, or having an argument with you on just how "that sentence has completely correct grammar." On that note, also telling me when the fantasy just got way too cheesy.

Kristyn Van Cleave

I know perfectly well he's a god, too. But what I think is he'll be much godlier after he's dead.

Ursula K Le Guin

Metal rusts, music lasts forever.

Patrick Rothfuss

White IrisThe iris danced acrossthe ancient Grecian skiesgliding with her embossedsatiny milken sides ...

Muse

Listen" Darkstalker said, "I could see the future, but not just any future- all the possible futures. Do you understand what that means? I could have guided the tribe along the best path, to safety and glory and power and everything else. At each crossroad, I would have known the right thing to do. I loved my tribe Moonwatcher. i would have been the best ruler they'd ever had. I know it; I saw the futures where I was king, benevolent and beloved, married to Clearsight with six little dragonets of our own. Those were possible. They could have happened, if anyone had faith in me.

Tui T. Sutherland

What do you suppose it means?'[Bastian] asked. ""DO WHAT YOU WISH.'" That must mean I can do anything I feel like. Don't you think so? All at once Grograman's face looked alarmingly grave, and his eyes glowed. 'No,' he said in his deep, rumbling voice. 'It means that you must do what you really and truly want. And nothing is more difficult.' 'What I really and truly want? What do you mean by that?' 'It's your own deepest secret and you yourself don't know it.' 'How can I find out?' 'By going the way of your wishes, from one to another, from first to last. It will take you to what you really and truly want.' 'That doesn't sound so hard,' said Bastian. 'It's the most dangerous of all journeys.' 'Why?' Bastian asked. 'I'm not afraid.' 'That isn't it,' Grograman rumbled. 'It requires the greatest honesty and vigilance, because there's no other journey on which it's so easy to lose yourself forever.

Little Maiden Encounters FearDeepest regions walked she therelittle maiden sweet and fairventured far from the pathnever a whispernever a laugh...

Muse

The human world is full of weak-minded people, who think they're as clever as can be and are convinced that it's terribly important to persuade even the children that Fanstastica doesn't exist.

Brahma and AiravataLong ago in lands of golden sandBrahma turned to Saraswatiand gently kissed her inked hand....

Muse

Fiction is just a mirror of reality for the most part. Many things that happen in fiction don’t even happen here. But as far as pain and sadness. Joy and love, life and death, it’s all real here. Here it’s real.

Sleeping AtlantisSilent cool watersdancing upon her skin ~silent cool waterushering dreams within...

Muse

Git'er DoneThey beat their swords upon their shieldsTo no beast or man would they yield

Muse

One foot in each world, riding them simultaneously; expecting not to fall.

Kelly Proudfoot

Dorian, I have wings!” “I can see that.” “What am I?” I asked, as chills ran up my spine. “I—I can’t be positive, because I have never seen one. But I think you’re a phoenix,” he said in amazement. “You are so beautiful.

Chaos lifted on wings and flew.

Come, Leigh, come with me...

A crush of bodies surrounded the featureless monument. The enraged dead clambered atop their ghastly kin. Caiaphas tucked his knees to his chest and hugged his legs tightly, staring at the scores of ragged, flailing hands as they scratched for purchase over the edge of the cylinder. Metal thrummed and thunder roared, filling his head.tNow there were words within the deafening roar. t“Straaaange,” they seemed to say. tt“Daaaace…”t“Straaaangerrrr…”tThen a quick, awful chant: “CAIAPHAS! FOREVER! CAI—”tAnd with a piercing whistle it ended as his eardrums burst.

it was like staring at a whitewashed wall, but without all the emotion

Joe Abercrombie

It is so easy at times for a lonely individual to begin fantasizing about what the people outside are saying about him and, in result, irrationally and fearfully, and sometimes angrily, fancy himself a villain.

Without thinking, I step a little closer, reaching out slowly to slide a fingertip over the largest petal of the lily tattoo on her lower back. Instantly a vibration moves up my arm, and I swear the mark on my hand burns against my skin.I clench my fingers into a fist, but I don’t step away.“Did you feel that?” she asks.I shake my head. “I don’t know.” I feel so much, always so much.She takes my hand and brings it to her side again, resting it on the violets. I look at thepurple flowers between my fingers and feel the heat of her skin, the way it slides beneath my palm, soft as silk. And that vibration moves through my arm again.Her breath quickens.I find myself moving closer as her blue eyes go wide with wonder. My heart stutters and my chest aches with some unknown need.“Are you doing this?” I ask. Is she making me want this?“No,” she breathes. The smell of her turns to spice, sharp and warm, and I know I’m sensing her now, even through the block in the house.We stand like that for an eternity, still as statues on the outside, but inside I’m running, running toward a place I’ve never been. I should be terrified. But all I feel is strength. Rightness.And then Kara moves, her hands skimming up my chest, testing the boundaries. Her palms slide to my shoulders, her fingers tracing the line of the muscles in my arms, down to my waist. She grips my shirt, stretching it a little, waiting for me to tell her to stop. But I watch her lift it, let her pull it up, raising my arms, and I even take the last of it off myself, dropping it to the floor.We breathe, staring at each other.The vibrations move between us. My left arm buzzes with them. I think she’s doing it. Whatever’s happening, it’s her.I reach up and brush my marked knuckles across her cheek, amazed at the feel of her, the way her eyes seem to see everything, the way she pulls me into her. I can’t seem to remember why I shouldn’t kiss her. And kiss her. And . . .I kiss her, taking her face in both hands, skimming my thumb over her jaw as she leans into the touch, reaching out to curl her fingers around the back of my neck. I have to remind myself to breathe. I need more of her. The emotions roll over me in a rush, a tangle of sensation and movement, heat and sugar and heady aromas.I grip her tighter.Her nails dig into my shoulders. My hands slide down her spine. The kiss deepens, goes on forever, until I can barely see sense. I explore her shape, the feel of her ribs, the textures and taste of her skin on my tongue as I kiss her neck, her shoulders, her chest. As I draw trembling gasps from her lips, she grips me so hard it hurts.Our bodies mesh. Our breath mingles in frenzied desperation. Nothing else exists except her. Her warmth. Her spice. Her.

Rachel A. Marks

I just think the world ought to be more sort of organized.''That's just fantasy,' said Twoflower.'I know. That's the trouble.' Rincewind sighed again.

Terry Pratchett

I am ewe to your ram. How can I call myself a man anymore?""The penis is a dead giveaway.

Holy sea turtles!" - Arabella Valli, The Equinox (Book Two of the Summer Solstice Series)

A book can’t be a half-fantasy any more than a woman can be half pregnant

There are people who can never go to Fantastica," said Mr. Coreander, "and others who can, but who stay there forever. And there are just a few who fo to fantastica and come back. Like you. And they make both world well again.

Freud wrote that love involves the undervaluation of reality and the overvaluation of the desired object. While the correct valuation of a person is an odd, if not impossible idea, we might say Freud meant something like this: for various reasons, many of them masochistic, we become involved with others who cannot possibly give what we ask for; we can wait as long as we wish, but they do not have it, and one day, if we bear to abandon our fantasy and see clearly, we might face reality straight on. We will then look elsewhere for fulfillment, to a place where our needs can, in fact, be satisfied.

A fantasy is a journey. It is a journey into the subconscious mind, just as psychoanalysis is. Like psychoanalysis, it can be dangerous; and it will change you.

Ursula K Le Guin

The world of books is my fantasy.

Lailah Gifty Akita

What is fantasy? On one level, of course, it is a game: a pure pretense with no ulterior motive whatever. It is one child saying to another child, “Let’s be dragons,” and then they’re dragons for an hour or two. It is escapism of the most admirable kind—the game played for the game’s sake. On another level, it is still a game, but a game played for very high stakes. Seen thus, as art, not spontaneous play, its affinity is not with daydream, but with dream. It is a different approach to reality, an alternative technique for apprehending and coping with existence. It is not antirational but pararational; not realistic, but surrealistic, superrealistic, a heightening of reality. In Freud’s terminology, it employs primary, not secondary process thinking. It employs archetypes, which, Jung warned us, are dangerous things. Dragons are more dangerous, and a good deal commoner, than bears. Fantasy is nearer to poetry, to mysticism, and to insanity than naturalistic fiction is. It is a real wilderness, and those who go there should not feel too safe. And their guides, the writers of fantasy, should take their responsibilities seriously.

Ursula K Le Guin

Now he understood what it was to be a man: that it was to be weak as well as strong, to be foolish sometimes and wise sometimes, to know love as well as to kill. And he had learned that there were other paths for him, other gods who called in the deep places of the earth, in the lap of wavelets on the shore, in the breath of the wind. He had learned that there were other kinds of courage. He knew, with deep certainty, that the islands held a new path for him. He need only move forward and find it.

Juliet Marillier

Somewhere in this world there exists an exceptional philosopher named Florie Rotondo.The other day I came across one of her ruminations printed in a magazine devoted to the writings of schoolchildren. It said: “If I could do anything, I would go to the middle of our planet, Earth, and seek uranium, rubies, and gold. I'd look for Unspoiled Monsters. Then I'd move to the country. --Florie Rotondo, age 8.”Florie, honey, I know just what you mean – even if you don’t: how could you, age eight?

First, I'm a writer; I look at things from a different point of view. The untrained eye is the eye that sees what's been missed.Devon, from The Dragon's Breath by Jenna Lindsey

Inside the flower, within the very structure of its petals, my soul is an element of nature, at one with the blooming Meadow Pinx in the fields on the coast of Marnan.

M. Larose

One of the rocks in my soulbag, a little grey rock that I had picked up on a certain day in a certain place in the hills above the river in the Silver Time, a little piece of my world, that became my world. |Every night I took it out and held it in my hand while I lay in bed waiting to sleep, thinking of the sunlight on the hills above the river, listening to the soft shushing of the ship’s systems, like a mechanical sea

Ursula K Le Guin

A dream? With you, reality is always as a dream. There is no greater fantasy, no grander epic, than being with you.

Zechariah Barrett

How crazy it would be if the moon did spin and the earth stood still and the sun went dim!How absolutely ludicrous if snakes could walk and kids could fly and mimes did talk!How silly it would be if the nights were tan and the mornings green and the sun cyan!How totally ridiculous if horses chirped and spiders sang and ladies burped!How shocking it would be if the dragons ruled and the knights were daft but the fish were schooled!How utterly preposterous if rain were dry and snowflakes warm and real men cried!I love to just imagineall the lows as heights,and the salty, sweet,and our lefts as rights.Perhaps it is incredibleand off the hook,but it all makes sensein a storybook!

Richelle E. Goodrich

When the time comes, don’t be afraid to open the door, just make sure you choose the right one.

Wynter's Pass was a picturesque region in the north of Vohlfhein, where the Bleak Hills eventually collapsed into the Frozen Sea. From the back of Mr. Buckles, who had been on a slow trot since sunrise, Monch watched the light glisten off of the frozen branches of the evergreens. As the sun warmed the frozen ground, sending the evening's frost into retreat, Monch absorbed the splendor of it all and wondered how expensive the local real estate must be around here. He then contemplated attempting to find an agent that would represent his interests well."This land is such a spectacular wonder," the Lion of Ahriman declared. "It would be very much sought after if they could just do something about the bears, the White Orts, the wolves, the bloodthirsty cannibals, the snow manapés, the frost wizards, the northern bandit gangs, the dire lynxes, the similarly sounding but not related pygmy bloodthirsty cannibals, the demon possessed yaks, the dead-soul animated trees, the..." Monch paused for a moment."It just occurred to me that this land is really not safe at all. It seems almost everything in it wants to kill me," the Templar admitted.

D.F. Monk

Even the best-laid plans turn to hell when exposed to reality.

Michael Anthony

- "Surely you have considered terrorist activity?"There was another pause. Then the spokesman said, in the quiet tones of someone who has had enough and who is going to quit after this and raise chickens somewhere, "Yes, I suppose we must. All we need to do is find some terrorists who are capable of taking an entire nuclear reactor out of its can while it's running and without anyone noticing. It weighs about a thousand tons and is forty feet high. So they'll be quite strong terrorists. Perhaps you'd like to ring them up, sir, and ask them questions in that supercilious, accusatory way of yours."-- The BBC interviews a nuclear spokesperson (Terry Pratchett & Neil Gaiman, Good Omens)

Terry Pratchett

By the second cycle of the solstice of the warm time, the One will face the enemy. And the One will unearth the Shield of the Northern Lights and smote the enemy with daring and intelligence. The heart of the One is pious and evil will cower. Couatl will rise.

Barbara T. Cerny

And the One will win the Armor of the Easter Dawn and defeat the enemy with audacity and wisdom. The body of the One is strong and ready to lead. Lammasu will pounce

Barbara T. Cerny

Oh. Now you are not so afraid, then?"Kitty opened her mouth, indignant. "I was not afraid before! I was... shocked. How many times do you see your orphanage roommate be able to turn someone into stone?""Every time I look in the mirror.

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