Dark Fantasy Quotes

The rivers had been drained overnight and what was left were things no person should have to image let alone see. She had been smart enough to stay away. But, other humans— were curious. They saw and the image planted in their heads made them bait for the demons.When they extended their hands and offered them peace of mind, the humans accepted without hesitation.

I was running on the earth,Slashing primeval winds.I was running in the world,Riddled with darkness.

Rap un zeal' Demon within. I might as well put up a giant 'Come and Get Eaten' sign for the good those warning runes do.

Madness,' Nick called. 'That's all I've found here. Does Avalon breed insanity? Is that the nature of magic, to drive everyone out of their minds?

I can be a gentleman off and on. When the urge hits me. - Tran

Some stories need to be told time and again. Every generation forgets. Every child learns anew.

I told you. I’ve been watching.” She twirled, her arms outstretched. “Watching, watching, watching.

I don’t know. How can you know? I…I’m a monster. When I’m hungry, I might do anything.""Oh no, of course I couldn’t possibly understand you." Violet’s shadowed face seemed to be wearing a grim and serious smile. "I know, you woke up one day and found out that you couldn’t be the person you remembered being, the little girl everybody expected you to be. You just weren’t her any more, and there was nothing you could do about it. So your family decided you were a monster and turned on you." Violet sighed, staring out into the darkness."Believe me, I do understand that. And let me tell you - from one monster to another - that just because somebody tells you you’re a monster, it doesn’t mean you are."just now you told me what you did because you want me to stop you from eating Pen. If you were a real monster, you wouldn’t have done that, would you?" Trista’s eyes stung, and she wiped strands of cobweb away with her sleeve."Idiot," added Violet, for good measure.

So what did you do, drug me, stuff me in the trunk, then dump me like a sacrificial offering into that vampire’s coffin? - Shella

Knitting is a good way to pass the time when you're waiting for something to die.

The first rule in the book of love is acceptance.

Not all fairytales have happy endings, my dear...Not all witches burn in ovens, not every princess wakes up, and sometimes the trail of breadcrumbs doesn’t lead to a safe place...I should know.”- Extract from The Blood Witching, copyright Eleanor Keane.

Without Bardawulf's pelt about me I felt naked before the crowds, yet I knew what I would invite if folk saw me wearing it. The whispers would become shouts, the shouts accusations, and finally cries of terror, and even if they did not whip me at the post or burn me for my gramarye, the fear would swell within their minds. Their thoughts would focus on naught but me. And I would find myself at the mercy of an onslaught of geiste from which even Lynae would be unable to defend me.

Further, deeper still, those whose true names are for ever hidden from the world picked up the pattern of vibrations in the ether, and something akin to joy stirred in their fathomless minds. Perhaps soon they would be called upon to feed.

Respect earned through fear instead of deeds, was not truly respect.

Hope had only revealed herself to him when he was immersed in darkness

The same good folk who would burn me for a psychal now paid me to use my cursed gramarye to guard their sheep.

Open up your Mind Rockin' Minds to the Cold Hard Reality that is my Songs & Dreams.

And you will spend the rest of your life wondering if I have disciples to avenge me. Hire your tasters, Burbesh. Until the Master of the Sleeps comes for you, you’ll never know a taste of anything that has not touched another’s lips first. You’ll never sleep in a bed that has not been first tossed for vipers. You’ll never sit in a chair that has not been tested for poisoned barbs in its cushions. You shall never see a bath drawn for you that you will not at first fear is acid. And you’ll never have another dream where my face is not grinning at you from the shadows.” -- From "Morality for Alchemists and Thieves

Gossip is the swiftest bird alive," Amonos said darkly."Yes," said E'sinea, turning to view his surroundings. "I should like one day to catch Gossip and wring its neck.

People won't change until the pain of not changing is greater than the pain changing brings.

The spirit cannot exist in a sealed void. It will eventually devour itself or waste away.

Famine was a dirty bitch with rotten fangs, but the hunger she put in a belly bit sharp nonetheless.

I don't have to stand and walk, I only have to open my eyes.

Maxine,” Grant said, but I barely heard him. I was lost in that vision, in those emotions—the pain, and hunger for pain, forming the root of so muchagonized rage.“ ‘Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate,’” I muttered.“Yoda, from Star Wars?”“ ‘Hate leads to suffering.’” I met his gaze. “Yoda knows his shit, man.”Grant’s mouth crooked in a gentle smile.

My name is one best whispered in terror in a dark corner.

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

Be what you yearn to be, and stop living for false ideals.

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")

Elijah: You are a dangerous woman.Valeria: You do not know the half of it, but I suppose you are not one to always dabble in safe waters either. So, do you still want to work with me?Elijah: It will be my pleasure.Valeria: Is there anything I need to know about you?Elijah: No!Valeria: That is a lie.Elijah: Is there anything I need to know about you?Valeria: No!Elijah: That is also a lie.Valeria, smiling: Then we are a pair of liars.

There's a danger and a beauty to the moment which seems out of time. It pierces something deep inside of him, bypassing his rationale, and it touches his very core. In a sudden shock of illumination, and of knowing, he recognizes this woman is his destiny, and their fates are intertwined.

Christians. They’re determined to rid the land of any who worship the Horned One. Murdering all the druids, burning the temples, sometimes whole villages, and knocking over the standing stones.” The Lady’s face hardened. “This god of peace and love certainly likes to bathe the land in blood.

Everyone knows: people who cross boarders do so for a reason.

Time is tick, tick, ticking away. How many souls will I capture today? Will they be a challenge or will they be given? Only time will tell as the clock keeps tick, tick, ticking. Your god has arrived with enough hatred for y’all, with enough evil for the big and small, so come one, come all. I will shred your souls and place them in my satchel, call you a settler and make you my peddler. Come one, come all, come stand behind your god. I will lead you into the darkness of Earth's end. Come one, come all, my wilted flowers, come claim your title, speak out and cheer it. Come one, come all, let’s have a ball, my wilted flowers . . . Sweet, Unconquerable Spirits.

My mind screams for me to run, but my feet are planted where they are. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real. There’s no way this is real!

So exquisitely perfect was the darkness of the heavens above that one would have difficulty believing it was a prison to the passengers and crew of The Black Witch.

I envisioned him tied in a chair, an iron arrow pointed at his brow. Ah, the power of positive thinking.

I am ready for battle. I am ready to fight.

Just tell yourself they're only stories. Pamela K. Kinney (Spectre Nightmares and Visitations)

-Cheap? I could have bought a whole pig with that coin jester. -Exactly my Lord. And while some may eat a mule, no one can ride a pig.

Magic is a naughty beast.

Don’t be hating on my peacock. It’s just not right. - Kye

Oh get over it Cecilia! You are no longer human. Such decorum doesn’t exist amongst our kind

With timid curiosity, I asked, “what do you mean the old bodies get reused?

You’re starting to look like you did before, and that’s not good because what you looked like was complete shit, so get up and go to bed so I can stop acting like your mother. I can already feel my balls starting to recede. And hey, does it look like I’m growing breasts? - Kye

Walk with this tomorrow night. If nothing happens, thendon’t come back. Forget about us, this place, but if you feel theNightwalker in you awaken, then return to where you belong.Return to me, and the streets will run red with blood.

Rejection is an opportunity for your selection.

There was balance, harsh and violent like the noxious air in a swamp. But balance, nonetheless. Then somewhere in the fickle mists of creation came humanity, clawing and afraid, grasping and ambitious. Enveloped in a dangerous world, these creatures lived as scavengers; afraid of the greater things of the world. They were beset by disease, lack of claws or fangs, and the lack of habitat to call their own. Lefeyhdie had not provided any particular prey or plant for them to eat. These fleshy, naked beings were doomed to die of attrition. Curiously, these beings never stopped Doing, or Thinking. Breeding to strengthen their numbers. Sharpening rocks, shaping wood, gathering leaves and sticks for clothing and shelter. Eventually they had settlements of great number, crude but effective tools of war. Ancient forces began to pay attention to the growing incursion, plaguing them, slaying stragglers at night. But still the humans held on to the edge of the precipice, knuckles white with effort'.

Nothing that is will always be.- Open Mic Singer

Right and wrong matters little when survival matters most.

A friendship like theirs was hard to come by, and when such a thing is found, it is often even harder to hold on to.But, as so few come to learn, absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder.

It was Jaenelle's voice, but...She was medium height, slender, and fair-skinned. Her gold mane--not quite hair and not quite fur--was brushed up and back from her exotic face and didn't hide the delicately pointed ears. In the center of her forehead was a tiny, spiral horn. A narrow strip of gold fur traced her spine, ending in a small gold and white fawn tail that flicked over her bare buttocks. The legs were human and shapely, but changed below the calf. Instead of feet, she had dainty horse's hooves. Her human hands had sheathed claws like a cat's. As she shifted position to slip another shard into place, he saw the small, round breasts, the feminine curve of waist and hips, the dark-gold triangle of hair between her legs.Who...?But he knew. Even before she walked over and looked at him, even before he saw the feral intelligence in those ancient, haunted sapphire eyes, he knew. Terrifying and beautiful. Human and Other. Gentle and violent. Innocent and wise.*I am Witch,* she said, a small, defiant quiver in her voice.*I know.* His voice had a seductive throb in it, a hunger he couldn't control or mask.

I can’t believe it.’ I whispered.‘You can’t let him lure you back in, Felicia. He’s wrong. He’s wrong!’ Vanian pleaded, I could feel the quiver of his magic, the wisps that were fighting against the iron burning into his wrists, I could feel the crackle as it fought in the air, against his emotions, against his pain. I shook my head, was about to speak but Adam grabbed him by the front of his shirt; as if a few more tears and shreds couldn’t go amiss. The tightness of his grip paled the Faerie’s cheeks, caused the blood to trickle down faster, dropping to the floor.‘My wife.’ He yelled, ‘She’s my wife, silverblood.’ With each growl of a syllable he accented it with a punch to Vanian’s face.I couldn’t take much more. I jumped over and pulled at Adam’s shoulders, fingertips driving into the nook of his collarbone, pressing down with as much as I had in me, anything to break his hold. He recoiled and rose his hand to me, at first I flinched but I stopped. He wouldn’t hurt me. He wouldn’t.

He who writes is the martyr, seen through the eyes of the unassuming doll.

Death makes its own choices. Has reasoning an order has a taste…

Before long, the smokey spectre appeared, as I knew it would, the barest whisper of a shadow, inky and incandescent. It darted forwards, then back, closer, then ppfft, it was gone in an instant, only to return, darker and more substantial. As ever, it grew bolder, and bolder, until finally it dared to drift through the window and into my home.Every night I had lain here, the geist had come.

Would you teach me, Seth?’Seth smiled and leaned back in his seat. ‘You do realise, of course, that you have no idea what you ask of me?’ Seth replied after a moment.‘Of course,’ Christopher replied quietly. ‘Could you tell me?’‘No. That is the problem you see,’ Seth said. ‘Magic is something you can never prepare someone for. Magic will make you, Christopher. It will find all the secret empty places of longing in you and fill them more surely than any other love. And magic will break your heart.’ A slight, rather sad smile crossed Christopher’s face for a moment. ‘I know what you’re thinking. You think your heart is already broken, you think that this crooked and winding way is the only path left for you now. But you’re wrong. The heart breaks like every wave on the beach and there’s a darkness you’ll have to pass through that you can’t even see from where you are now.

What do you mean 'has to be?' and what are you smiling at?" I stopped contributing to this ridiculous dance. I grabbed the teapot and began to fill it with water in the sink.Suddenly I felt the slight weight go this body against my back and the corner of his mouth brushed adjacent my ear."How human you are," he whispered.

Why would Dad call you? I mean, you have to admit that he would have been better off calling the local prison and asking them to send out one of the convicted killers to come find me. - Shella

All she could see was her demise and it called out a tempting ruse, offering a suffering less potent than what sickened the living.