Fantasy Quotes - Page 7

Ryan, if you abandon me here, I will have no choice but to tell your father,” Navinka cut in. “You don’t want Aronzo and his men prowling after you again.” She gave a stretch. “I can inform Lord Glenford we are joining my father in Dragonvale. The East Pass is a safe route. He will not insist on sending a further escort.” She flashed a deadly smile. “I can make your life easier or more difficult. I leave the choice to you.

Sam Dogra

My dad liked to say that magic itself is never black; only the uses to which it is put, but mind magic is already tinted a deep, dark gray.

Christine Amsden

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.

Sam Dogra

My heart almost vaulted out of my chest. I was snuggled against Ryan’s shoulder. We were burrowed under the cloak and sleeping bag, and my hand rested on his cheek, about to swat the stray hair that had fallen over my face. This wouldn’t have been so bad, if not for one tiny detail.Ryan was awake.

Sam Dogra

Adam glanced at me. His grin was back. I’d forgotten how easily he could wind me up.“You know, Eliza,” he said, “maybe you’re missing something here.”“You’re going to be missing a few teeth if you don’t explain yourself,” I growled.

Sam Dogra

I remained silent, adrift in a torrent of mixed feelings. The Binding urged me to curl up in his embrace, to lose myself in his scent and surrender to his lips again; however, my own thoughts begged me to turn away. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t deny there was something between Ryan and me, but what? It was the curse!It had always been the curse…

Sam Dogra

Come closer, my dears, let me give you a warning,Of the fate that befalls those who stay out past morning,In the darkest hours before the dawn,When witches roam and demons spawn,And children die with spirit gone,Magicked away in the gloaming.

magic swirls about us like an invisible fog of energy that can be tapped by those gifted enough, using a variety of techniques that center on layered spelling, mumbled incantations, and a burst of concentrated thought channeled through the index fingers. The technical name for this energy is "variable electro-gravitational mutable subatomic force," which doesn't mean anything at all--confused scientists just gave it an important-sounding name so as not to lose face. The usual term is "wizidrical energy," or simply "the crackle.

Many years ago, plunging was discovered when the moon was in two halves- it's all about dreams, you see

William O'Brien

You have to believe in magic to see it.

Philosophy will clip an Angel's wings,Conquer all mysteries by rule and line,Empty the haunted air, and gnomèd mine—Unweave a rainbow, as it erewhile madeThe tender-person'd Lamia melt into a shade

Fire and water, logic and reason—those footholds of reality that you mortals hold so near and dear become like so much mist on the plains of the dreamscape.

Hannah Rose Brown was not quite 13 years old when she discovered her family was cursed. THE PUZZLE RING

Beauty to beguile, spies to ensnare, and gold, always gold, to tempt, to trap, to control.

Desire is often the greatest poison.

Like seduction, the Priestess took poisoning to an art form.

Reflections of the battlements shimmered in the deep green moat, casting an image of enduring strength, an image that defied the very siege of time.

Always give the rabble something to love and something to hate.

Splendor was the decree of the day.

All his senses screamed in warning, the very air reeking of forbidden magic, but duty call him forward.

Careful, mother, or you could end up dangling in another's webs.

We've seen firsthand the footprints of the Mordant's treachery.

Most tales carry a kernel of truth, else they're soon forgotten.

In the beginning there was only Darkness.

Seek Knowledge, Protect Knowledge, Share Knowledge.

An optimist and a gentleman, I like that in my men.

The feelings and the memories and the perceptions in me are my own, they are terrible and secret and if I can turn them out, if I can display them on canvas… or even on my skin if I must…” He turned his head and looked at her. “Then they are special. Do you see? I create from my secrets, from the halls in my soul.

Kendra L. Saunders

Those secrets residing in their hearts and minds held magnificent Energy. Humans were too inept to see it as anything but evil.

In a fight between a shifter and a witch, the shifter would often win—but only if they could keep the witch from speaking, usually by severing the throat or tearing out the tongue. If the witch was powerful enough, and quick enough, physical size didn't matter. Catherine had heard of the horrible ways the witches could kill their victims. Cooking them alive from the inside out, restricting oxygen flow through the nasal and oral passages by creating a vacuum, drowning them with vapor pulled from the very air.It made fights between shifters look almost humane by comparison.

Harry―yer a wizard.

She knows exactly what I like and what it does to me. She worships my body in its entirety and I allow it—I crave it.

A.R. Von

Fire. I see it everywhere.

Jen Wylie

A face stared up at her from the mirror beside her hand. Was that really what she looked like? Was that really what she looked like, all sharp lines and huge silver-grey eyes? Certainly, no one would ever call those features beautiful, Jame thought ruefully; but were they really enough like a boy's to have fooled that old man the alley? Well, maybe with that long black hair out of sight under a cap. It was a very young face and a defiant one, she thought with a odd sense of detachment, but frightened, too. And those extraordinary eyes... what memories lived in them that she could not share? Stranger, where have you been she asked silently. What have you seen? The thin lips locked in their secrets."Ahhh!" Jame said in sudden disgust, tossing away the mirror. Fool, to be obsessed with a past she couldn't even remember. But it was all behind her now.

One year later the society claimed victory in another case which again did not fit within the parameters of the syndrome, nor did the court find on the issue. Fiona Reay, a 33 year old care assistant, accused her father of systematic sexual abuse during her childhood. The facts of her childhood were not in dispute: she had run away from home on a number of occasions and there was evidence that she had never been enrolled in secondary school. Her father said it was because she was ‘young and stupid’. He had physically assaulted Fiona on a number of occasions, one of which occurred when she was sixteen. The police had been called to the house by her boyfriend; after he had dropped her home, he heard her screaming as her father beat her with a dog chain.As before there was no evidence of repression of memory in this case. Fiona Reay had been telling the same story to different health professionals for years. Her medical records document her consistent reference to family problems from the age of 14. She finally made a clear statement in 1982 when she asked a gynaecologist if her need for a hysterectomy could be related to the fact that she had been sexually abused by her father. Five years later she was admitted to psychiatric hospital stating that one of the precipitant factors causing her breakdown had been an unexpected visit from her father. She found him stroking her daughter. There had been no therapy, no regression and no hypnosis prior to the allegations being made public.The jury took 27 minutes to find Fiona Reay’s father not guilty of rape and indecent assault. As before, the court did not hear evidence from expert witnesses stating that Fiona was suffering from false memory syndrome. The only suggestion of this was by the defence counsel, Toby Hedworth. In his closing remarks he referred to the ‘worrying phenomenon of people coming to believe in phantom memories’.The next case which was claimed as a triumph for false memory was heard in March 1995. A father was aquitted of raping his daughter. The claims of the BFMS followed the familiar pattern of not fitting within the parameters of false memory at all. The daughter made the allegations to staff members whom she had befriended during her stay in psychiatric hospital. As before there was no evidence of memory repression or recovery during therapy and again the case failed due to lack of corroborating evidence. Yet the society picked up on the defence solicitor’s statements that the daughter was a prone to ‘fantasise’ about sexual matters and had been sexually promiscuous with other patients in the hospital.~ Trouble and Strife, Issues 37-43

Trouble and Strife

Small children believe themselves to be gods, or some of them do, and they can only be satisfied when the rest of the world goes along with their way of seeing things.

Reunion with the mother is a siren call haunting our imagination. Once there was bliss, and now there is struggle. Dim memories of life before the traumatic separation of birth may be the source of Arcadian fantasies of a lost golden age.

Fantasies... who needs fantasies? I have memories.

Death was a leech; no matter which side of the spectrum you were on, either dead or alive, it fed. It either acquired your soul or devoured all your joyful emotions.

But in the end, black can never be white, one plus one must always equal two, and Mara Lynn was a normal little girl.

Jake Vander-Ark

To see someone you love in so much pain—especially emotional pain that can’t be remedied—was the worst form of torture.

Time is truly apathetic to the many to whom a little empathy would mean so much.~"Disarming (Reign of Blood #2)

Out of misery, comes unexpected joy.

Kevin was sitting on the railing waiting patiently and looking up at the sky with his mouth agape in a totally comical way. Kayn walked up beside him and teased, “Trying to catch flies?” (The Children of Ankh series) Kim Cormack

Remy shot to her feet, eyes blazing. Her hands were fisted at her sides. “Don’t be stupid, Creed.”“What did you say?” I asked slowly.“Don’t. Be. Stupid.”I opened my mouth, closed it. “Why do you even care?” I finally asked.Remy’s eyes shifted away from mine. She was hiding something. “You’re giving up.”“No.” I shook my head. “Giving up would be giving in to the darkness completely. I haven’t quite taken that step yet.”“What’s stopping you?”“What?”“If you don’t care and you want it to be over, what’s stopping you from letting the evil inside of you destroy you?”You.“You need to leave,” I told her.“I can’t.”A low rumble sounded deep in my chest.“Are you growling at me?”“Are you scared?”“No.”“You should be,” I stated, moving for her.

I've been deflecting Calypso's blushes all day. I don't have the energy to deflect yours," he said through clenched teeth. "So either block or strip." -- The Twelfth House ~ The Elementals Book I

I started picturing Rens smiling face, the warmth of his touch, the slight curl of his lip before he kissed me. Every happy memory came rushing back through the blackness illuminating it in brilliant color.

I'm trying to go viral, but so far I'm just a sniffle

Jack Miller aimed his shotgun at the monster’s grey-skinned head and pulled the trigger. Green sludge and bits of bone and flesh splattered through the air to land on the street, the gory aftermath releasing a noxious, sulfurous odor.

Danielle Monsch

Two must rule together, one for the night and one for the day. this is the way it has always been done.

Jennifer Silverwood

My sweet lemming,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck and sending glorious spirals of pleasure ping-ponging throughout her body. “You’ve been quiet and that worries me.” “Why?” she asked, trailing her hand down his banded forearm to entwine her fingers within his.“Because that means you’re thinking, and a thinking woman is usually something to fear.

T.J. Shaw

We get chased by orcs, I’m tripping you and running the other direction.

Danielle Monsch

I will carry you kicking and screaming like a child then spank you. We can do this my way or yours.

This isn’t going to be a cute little storybook you can close when you’re done. You open this and you’re going to be letting things out you cannot possibly imagine. And believe me when I tell you this is no fairytale.”–Eli (Darkness Of Light)

Stacey Marie Brown

I'd die of a broken heart before breaking yours.

Emm Cole

It was me–a dangerous cocktail of pissed off and hurt.”–Ember (Darkness Of Light)

Stacey Marie Brown

I’d chase you anyway. I’ll chase you forever.

Sleep now, baby. I’ll be here when you wake.

He would never forget her. The distance he forced had done nothing to soothe his aching soul. It had done nothing to diminish that she was his. He tried to deny it at first, thinking it nothing more than a cosmic mistake, but after a month without a glimpse of her, there was no question.She belonged to him.

He hadn’t been able to help himself, couldn’t have stopped himself from kissing her even if he’d tried. Fighting with her was a million times better than dreaming, and the fight had conjured his soul to act, to kiss her. And that kiss was nothing like anything he had ever experienced before.He knew if he would die then, he’d die a happy man because it meant he’d savor her forever, relish her passion among his. She’d tasted so sweet, like the sweetest fruit or the sweetest dessert. Her lips were heaven on his, his heaven on Earth.

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