Fantasy Quotes - Page 8

I love you, Jocelyn, and nothing, not even death, will ever keep me away from you.

When we get there, don’t go in huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf.

You mean run away? Wolves don't run from a fight." Rebecca Winters in Lone Wolf Rising

If you're outmatched, out-numbered, out-skilled, you'll run and live to fight another day." Lucky stopped jogging and pulled her close to him. He gently forced her eyes to lock with his. "You need to understand there are plenty of predators in our world who are far more dangerous than you'll ever be. Those are the ones you need to fear and, in a way, respect." ~ Lucky from Lone Wolf Rising

Jami Brumfield

I would love to see her set you on fire.

J.L. Sheppard

Fuck you!” “Right here?” He crossed his arms. “That definitely wouldn’t help your getting over me.

Stacey Marie Brown

You cannot be betrayed by your enemies, only your friends.

Brian D. Anderson

Just because it's imaginary, doesn't mean it's not real.

T.L. Rese

It is my opinion that the isolated mind loses its purchase on reality all too easily and becomes prone to fantasy.

Frank Tallis

He is indeed the true enchanter, whose spell operates, not upon the senses, but upon the imagination and the heart.

Washington Irving

Everyone needs to escape sometimes, and retreating into somebody else's fantasy isn't nearly as satisfying as slipping into your own.

Nenia Campbell

When I was small, I never wanted to step in puddles. Not because of any fear of drowned worms or wet stockings; I was by and large a grubby child, with a blissful disregard for filth of any kind.It was because I couldn't bring myself believe that that perfect smooth expanse was no more than I thin film of water over solid earth. I believed it was an opening into some fathomless space. Sometimes, seeing the tiny ripples caused by my approach, I thought the puddle impossibly deep, a bottomless sea in which the lazy coil of a tentacle and gleam of scale lay hidden, with the threat of huge bodies and sharp teeth adrift and silent in the far-down depths.And then, looking down into reflection, I would see my own round face and frizzled hair against a featureless blue sweep, and think instead that the puddle was the entrance to another sky. If I stepped in there, I would drop at once, and keep on falling, on and on, into blue space.The only time I would dare walk though a puddle was at twilight, when the evening stars came out. If I looked in the water and saw one lighted pinprick there, I could slash through unafraid--for if I should fall into the puddle and on into space, I could grab hold of the star as I passed, and be safe.Even now, when I see a puddle in my path, my mind half-halts--though my feet do not--then hurries on, with only the echo of the though left b

Diana Gabaldon

Reality runs the risk of spoiling things, don't you think? The fantasy is often better. That's where the soul is fulfilled. Reality struggles to fulfil the soul, that's why we're often so unhappy. But fantasy is the world of the soul...

James Lusarde

Good stories take your imagination to anywhere

Raphaela Mello

Where there is a monster, there is a miracle.

Ogden Nash

I live in two unique worlds, traveling between both with just the opening or closing of my eyes.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Let those who smile at me, ask themselves whether they have been indebted most to imagination or reality for all they have enjoyed in life, if indeed they have ever enjoyed any thing.

Charles Robert Maturin

Unicorns and rainbows exist because we want them to.

Truth Devour

Paranoia. The more you think of an imaginary problem, the more you feel as though it’s real –

Simona Panova

Could be I've finally gone crazy, but men crazier than me have done greater things than I've ever dreamed, so we'll see where it takes me." ~ Tom Parker, Imagination Stone

Drew Bankston

Let Your Imagination Take Flight

Jordan Bernal

I have dreamed of that song, of the strange words to that simple rhyme-song, and on several occasions I have understood what she was saying, in my dreams. In those dreams I spoke that language too, the first language, and I had dominion over the nature of all that was real. In my dream, it was the tongue of what is, and anything spoken in it becomes real, because nothing said in that language can be a lie. It is the most basic building brick og everything. In my dreams I have used that language to heal the sick and to fly; once I dreamed I kept a perfect little bed-and-breakfast by the seaside, and to everyone who came to stay with me I would say, in that tongue, 'Be whole.' and they would become whole, not be broken people , not any longer, because I had spoken the language of shaping.

Neil Gaiman

Before the Wright brothers flew, flying was fantasy. Before the civil rights movement, people getting along together and the races being equal was a fantasy. Things change because we imagine a different world, a world that is not. And I think that imagination is one of the most important and defining aspects of human existence: our ability to imagine a world that is not.

Brandon Sanderson

He thought he was walking along a dusty road that showed white in the gathering darkness of a summer night. Whence and whither it led, and why he traveled it, he did not know, though all seemed simple and natural, as is the way in dreams; for in the Land Beyond the Bed surprises cease from troubling and the judgment is at rest.

Ambrose Bierce

Lead's erasing then vanishingBanished from whatever it is they're drinking and it's cleanedRunning from the pitcher as if it's her fantasy

Criss Jami

Tell me you won't go, tell me you'll stay forever, tell me you love me.

C.J. Archer

Remember what I said when I led to Omar and the queen?" I bobbed my head, unable to look away from his jewel-like eyed, shining in the darkness...so much like Chorda's. "That was the lie. Good-bye, Lane," he said and then crept into the darkness.

Kat Falls

The man raised the violin under his chin, placed the bow across the strings, and closed his eyes. For a moment his lips moved, silently, as if in prayer. Then, with sure, steady movements, he began to play. The song was like nothing Abbey had heard anywhere else. The notes were clear, sweet and perfect, with a purity of tone that not one violin in ten thousand could produce. But the song was more than that. The song was pain, and loss, and sorrow, an anthem of unrelenting grief for which no words could be sufficient. In its strains Abbey heard the cry of the mother clutching her lifeless child; of the young woman whose husband never returned from war; of the father watching his son die of cancer; of the old man weeping at his wife's grave. It was the wordless cry of every man, woman and child who had ever shaken a fist at the uncaring universe, every stricken heart that had demanded an answer to the question, “Why?”, and was left unsatisfied.When the song finally, mercifully ended, not a dry eye remained in the darkened hall. The shades had moved in among the mortals, unseen by all but Abbey herself, and crowded close to the stage, heedless of all but the thing that called to them. Many of the mortals in the audience were sobbing openly. Those newcomers who still retained any sense of their surroundings were staring up at the man, their eyes wide with awe and a silent plea for understa

Chris Lester

Loss reshapes us and teaches us to fill ourselves with something new. If we resist, we feel as you do. Hollow. Empty.

Ash Krafton

'The grief didn't fade, but it changed into something I could carry around with me, a noose I wore around my neck. It wasn't until I saw you that the knot loosened.'

Sara Bell

In my anger, I slew you twice. I saw you only as the dragon, and I forgot what you were meant to be. Can you forgive me?"--Etanun

Anne Elisabeth Stengl

In politics no permanent friends, no permanent enemies but permanent interest.

Patience Johnson

When it begins it is like a light in a tunnel, a rush of steel andsteam across a torn up life. It is a low rumble, an earthquake in theback of the mind. My spine is a track with cold black steel racing onit, a trail of steam and dust following behind, ghost like. It feelslike my whole life is holding its breath.By the time she leaves the room I am surprised that she can’t see thetrain. It has jumped the track of my spine and landed in my mothers’living room. A cold dark thing, black steel and redwood paneling. Itis the old type, from the western movies I loved as a kid.He throws open the doors to the outside world, to the dark ocean. Ifeel a breeze tugging at me, a slender finger of wind that catches atmy shirt. Pulling. Grabbing. I can feel the panic build in me, theneed to scream or cry rising in my throat.And then I am out the door, running, tumbling down the steps fallingout into the darkened world, falling out into the lifeless ocean. Outinto the blackness. Out among the stars and shadows.And underneath my skin, in the back of my head and down the back of myspine I can feel the desperation and I can feel the noise. I can feelthe deep and ancient ache of loudness that litters across my bones.It’s like an old lover, comfortable and well known, but unwelcome andinappropriate with her stories of our frolicking.And then she’s gone and the Conductor is closing the door. Thedarkness swells around us, enveloping us in a cocoon, pressing flatagainst the train like a storm. I wonder, what is this place?Those had been heady days, full and intense. It’s funny. I rememberthe problems, the confusions and the fears of life we all dealt with.But, that all seems to fade. It all seems to be replaced by images ofthe days when it was all just okay. We all had plans back then,patterns in which we expected the world to fit, how it was to bedeciphered.Eventually you just can’t carry yourself any longer, can’t keep youreyelids open, and can’t focus on anything but the flickering light ofthe stars. Hours pass, at first slowly like a river and then all in arush, a climax and I am home in the dorm, waking up to the ringing ofthe telephone.When she is gone the apartment is silent, empty, almost like a personsleeping, waiting to wake up. When she is gone, and I am alone, I curlup on the bed, wait for the house to eject me from its dying corpse.Crazy thoughts cross through my head, like slants of light in anattic.The Boston 395 rocks a bit, a creaking noise spilling in from theundercarriage. I have decided that whatever this place is, all thesenoises, sensations - all the train-ness of this place - is afabrication. It lulls you into a sense of security, allows you to feelas if it’s a familiar place. But whatever it is, it’s not a train, orat least not just a train.The air, heightened, tense against the glass. I can hear the squeak ofshoes on linoleum, I can hear the soft rattle of a dying man’sbreathing. Men in white uniforms, sharp pressed lines, run past,rolling gurneys down florescent hallways.

Jason Derr

Critics and academics have been trying for forty years to bury the greatest work of imaginative fiction in English. They ignore it, they condescend to it, they stand in large groups with their backs to it - because they're afraid of it. They're afraid of dragons. They have Smaugophobia. "Oh those awful Orcs," they bleat, flocking after Edmund Wilson. They know if they acknowledge Tolkien they'll have to admit that fantasy can be literature, and that therefore they'll have to redefine what literature is. And they're too damned lazy to do it.

Ursula K Le Guin

But when the wizard is onstage as the main character, you have to adopt what I call the Jack Vance Rule. I call it this because Jack Vance is the first author successfully and adroitly to have applied this rule in his The Dying Earth. The Jack Vance Rule is: (1) The wizard has to be able to do something unusual, or else he is not a wizard, (2) he cannot do everything, or else there is no drama; therefore (3) the story teller has to communicate to the reader whatever the dividing line is that separates what the wizard can do from what he cannot do, so that the reader can have a reasonable expectation of knowing what the wizard can and cannot do.

John C. Wright

You are everything you should be, and all that is enough. Be proud of who you are, and love who you will become.” – Lady Lalaigne to Nhakira, “Chosen

Jeanine Henning Nhakira

Maybe at the very bottom of it... I really don't like God. You know, it's silly to say I don't like God because I don't believe in God, but in the same sense that I don't like Iago, or the Reverend Slope or any of the other villains of literature, the god of traditional Judaism and Christianity and Islam seems to me a terrible character. He's a god who will... who obsessed the degree to which people worship him and anxious to punish with the most awful torments those who don't worship him in the right way. Now I realise that many people don't believe in that any more who call themselves Muslims or Jews or Christians, but that is the traditional God and he's a terrible character. I don't like him.

Steven Weinberg

If the world explore all my dark fantasy, will change for the better”.

Alexandar Tomov

And the Flatline aligned the nose of Kuang's sting with the center of the dark below. And dove. Case's sensory input warped with their velocity. His mouth filled with an aching taste of blue. His eyes were eggs of unstable crystal, vibrating with a frequency whose name was rain and the sounds of trains, suddenly sprouting a humming forest of hair-fine spines. The spines split, bisected, split again, exponential growth under the dome of the Tessier-Ashpool ice.

William Gibson

Of course, that’s how life is. A turn of events may seem very small at the time it’s happening, but you never really know, do you? How can you?

Tom Xavier

We both knew the place we were at and what that meant. We both felt the regret and the loss. We both knew that without me, none of it would have been possible. Without me, everything would be different. Without me, we wouldn't have been there... lying in that bed in the first place.

Megan Duke

It wasn't that I wanted to know her now. I wanted to have already known her. I wanted her fears and her desires to have shaped my life. I know this is not love, of course. What it is is a queer feeling of nostalgia for an impossible future, for what can never be. That's fantasy. Love is different.

John Dufresne

There is no getting away from the past or from one’s destiny.

Laxmi Hariharan

On some deep, unconscious level, he had always known it to be true. He was an invention, a fictional character. Jacob Lightfoot didn't exist.

Sharon Sant

First, you need to realize everything you thought you knew about yourself, about me, is a lie.

Angela Parkhurst

Only in stillness the windOnly from ice the flame.When all were Nameless, the wise will tellIt was only by knowing the otherThat they came to know themselves.

Jess E. Owen

The crowded city streets, the chaos of disorderly lives – nothing could keep her from wreaking love. She always wanted to let go, and I always wanted to own. She always had it coming, and I never had a clue. She could light a moment with a smile, and I would stay lost anticipating the next one. She knew the present. I desired the future. Every. Single. Time.

Prashant Chopra

We live in a world full of people who are satisfied with pretending to be someone they are not.

Tommy Tran

There was no need for a term like ‘magical thinking’ in the Golden Age of Man...there was only genuine everyday magic and mysticism. Children were not mocked or scolded in those days for singing to the rain or talking to the wind.

Anthon St. Maarten

Change your mind and change your whole life experience.

C.G. Rousing

[A] new finding shows that while in the 1940s, three-quarters of those surveyed claimed to dream in black and white, today, three-quarters say the opposite, that they dream in color. This reversal is attributed to a change in the number of people who grew up watching color rather than black and white television... another hint that our private dreams are intimately linked to our collective mediated experiences.

Katherine A. Fowkes

The part of the tradition that I knew best was mostly written (or rewritten for children) in England and northern Europe. The principal characters were men. If the story was heroic, the hero was a white man; most dark-skinned people were inferior or evil. If there was a woman in the story, she was a passive object of desire and rescue (a beautiful blond princess); active women (dark, witches) usually caused destruction or tragedy. Anyway, the stories weren’t about the women. They were about men, what men did, and what was important to men.

Ursula K Le Guin

I don't need a man to be happy.

Monique Snyman

Now, it’s undeniably true that male writers (including yours truly) are generally and commercially allowed to write about “girl stuff” without being penalized for doing so. In part this is the same old shit it’s always been ... I’ve said before that men who write mostly about men win prizes for revealing the human condition, while women who write about both men and women are filed away as writing “womens’ issues.” Likewise, in fantasy, the imprimatur of a dude somehow makes stuff like romance, relationship drama, introspection, and adorable animal companions magically not girly after all.In a sense, we male fantasists are allowed to be like money launderers for girl coo

Scott Lynch

If a lioness spends her hours pacing back and forth in a cage of gold with the finest meats at her disposal, does that make her any less of a prisoner? If that same feline’s fangs are filed down to blunt, un-tearing teeth and her roar is silenced, can she still be called a lioness?

Kristen Reed

I am going to show you great and mighty things which no one has ever seen before.... I am going to take you places where no one has ever been. I am going to take you to heights where no one has ever reached. If you will only come to me with all your heart, I will do a mighty work in you, which no man can undo but yourself.

M.J. Chrisman

A time will come in your life, William, where your faith will be tested... and you must stay faithful to the word and vision that the All-Father has given to you.

M.J. Chrisman

It is you I foreknew and have predestined for such a time as this. Just as My heart has so eagerly chosen you, William Ore, you must also choose me.

M.J. Chrisman

Living in that castle was like being condemned to Hell before I’d even had the opportunity to sin.

Kristen Reed

Friendship is just love that has yet to sprout wings and take flight.

Kristen Reed

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Fantasy Quotes - Page 8

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