Fantasy Fiction Quotes - Page 3

I watched her shadow merge with the darker colours of the deep sea.

All stories are ultimately about the fall.

The king is dead. Long live the queen.

Zanuta looked into the face of the faithful courier. "I have conquered the world, but I have never killed a man.

Time flows like memories on the shores of the past.

When everything is said and done, the only thing that really matters is the quality of the soul you build during the life you're given.

Lost…What if all of the folklore elements your grandfather spoke of—actually were?What if there was only a paper thin separation of less than one degree?Who would save you? How would you survive?

I'm about to start reading it again, because what good is a story you only want to read once?

Blood Life is not hunger. It’s freedom

The game finished when we heard a woman’s anguished screams from the cell that Lorr had chosen for one of his damsels. It wasn’t fun after that and we allowed the characters to die. Though we granted them much quicker deaths than the cells promised.

Wells is teaching us to think. Burroughs and his lesser imitators are teaching us not to think. Of course, Burroughs is teaching us to wonder. The sense of wonder is in essence a religious state, blanketing out criticism. Wells was always a critic, even in his most wondrous and romantic tales.And there, I believe, the two poles of modern fantasy stand defined. At one pole wait Wells and his honorable predecessors such as Swift; at the other, Burroughs and the commercial producers, such as Otis Adelbart Kline, and the weirdies, and horror merchants such as H.P. Lovecraft, and so all the way past Tolkien to today's non-stop fantasy worlders. Mary Shelley stands somewhere at the equator of this metaphor.

Fantasy is a reaction to the constraints of reality.

Can you see the power emotion has to distort out outlook? Makes you wonder, did you have a bad day, or did you make it a bad day?

Why does everything want to eat children?!”Neferre smiled. “Because you taste like candy. Stinky socks would mask your delicious scent from the aziza. We must get you stinky socks. So they do not eat you.”“That’s not much of a bedtime story! You really haven’t done this before!

Let your dissent fuel you, your anger inspire you, your rage convey you, and your fury strike a chilling fear onto the spines of your enemies.

Courage comes in the form of a girl.

Although nobody could ever know about our friendship, that wasn’t going to stop us from being together.

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

He sent it flying at full speed. It jumped six times as well, sending ripples across the sea. The small splashes of foam turned into miniature rainbows as they caught the light of the evening sun setting behind the clouds.

I think love is stronger than habits or circumstances. I think it is possible to keep yourself for someone for a long time and still remember why you were waiting when she comes at last.

Haftor was the Easer to the Easers. This was the most powerful man in Creation. Peder knew trouble was coming, but knew not what it was or how to deal with it.

The dead worry the living because their silence reminds us how little the great comedies and tragedies in our lives matter and how little the universe would care if we'd never lived at all.” -- Nara

I am the shadow of the flame.

Listen Nosferatu , you better get your claws off me now, or I'm going to go Buffy on your undead ass.

The problems of the past.How the problems of the past, uncorrected, inevitably became the problems of the future.

Magic happens to those who believe in it."-Zonosh, Wizard of the Elements

What’s not to love? I made friends with a pretty girl and now we get to plan a castle break in. This beats the day to day kill, eat and survive.

Gray, the colour of forgetting.

I stumble across the sea of tarmac, finding pavement, concealment and a brick wall. Palms brace against the scrubby surface. My stomach churns and then bubbles over, burning my throat as acrid yellow acid spills from my lips in frothy discomposure. It splatters the pavement like a spray of blood.

Fantasy stories will always be popular, as there are always readers who are willing to escape, freely, to the worlds that the authors create, and spend time with the characters we give life to.

The idea of love horrified me, and I knew I couldn't have it, so I didn't want it.

Hastra, you think you see, but you don't see this. You never have." Corgren, from The Bow of Destiny

Yeah, but what we need are some fighters who know how to take down a wolf. I know three.""If you are going to get the Pigs, you'll need backup. They're not to be trifled with.

The pieces of the puzzle are visible, but not the grand design. Images flicker and dance like memories, hinting at events to come. They scatter the moment I reach for them only to re-form to taunt me. I who never truly possessed them, nor may I ever.They do tell me this: a time of great change approaches and it’s not enough to watch. We must act. We can’t count on others to do our work for us or all may be lost.- Oracle Lilian’s Diary, Winter of 3765

How would I feel about hearing that the plague killed another nearby village a month later? Didn’t I tell you stupidity is the eighth sin?Excerpt From: Cameron Jace. “.

The quickest way is sometimes the longest.

This is the real magic of fantasy fiction: it can feed souls and change lives.

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.

I knew that it was impossible for us to be kept apart for too long.

Though the people of this modest village were not accustomed to seeing such barbaric men as Varg, it was his inhuman features that had the citizens of Fellenshire Village on edge. Not only was Varg's hair whiter than an old wise man's beard, but he was nearly six and a half feet tall and easily towered over the shaken folk of the village. His enormous stature alone would intimidate even the most hardened warriors, but with Varg's hair paired with his silver eyes, the people of this small town whispered that the devil himself may be walking amongst them.

The problem with a lot of people who read only literary fiction is that they assume fantasy is just books about orcs and goblins and dragons and wizards and bullshit. And to be fair, a lot of fantasy is about that stuff.The problem with people in fantasy is they believe that literary fiction is just stories about a guy drinking tea and staring out the window at the rain while he thinks about his mother. And the truth is a lot of literary fiction is just that. Like, kind of pointless, angsty, emo, masturbatory bullshit.However, we should not be judged by our lowest common denominators. And also you should not fall prey to the fallacious thinking that literary fiction is literary and all other genres are genre. Literary fiction is a genre, and I will fight to the death anyone who denies this very self-evident truth.So, is there a lot of fantasy that is raw shit out there? Absolutely, absolutely, it’s popcorn reading at best. But you can’t deny that a lot of lit fic is also shit. 85% of everything in the world is shit. We judge by the best. And there is some truly excellent fantasy out there. For example, Midsummer Night’s Dream; Hamlet with the ghost; Macbeth, ghosts and witches; I’m also fond of the Odyessey; Most of the Pentateuch in the Old Testament, Gargantua and Pantagruel.Honestly, fantasy existed before lit fic, and if you deny those roots you’re pruning yourself so closely that you can’t help but wither and die.

She smiled sinisterly. Light mist started to slowly swirl around us. All I could see was her, the tall rocks and the white wall. She beckoned to me. I took a step and another. I was now ankle deep into the water. The mysterious girl smiled like a predator.

Curse us and crush us, my precious is lost!

A figure stood at the far end, cloaked in black and beckoning him.

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?

The demon of revenge had already taken hold of his heart. The cancer of injustice had already eaten at his cheerful soul, leaving a skeleton of a carcass behind, one that could never feel compassion for humans—or anything else—again.

She's only a girl. What kind of men are you?''Dead ones?' asked Drith, who yanked the door open and put her sword through Narses' throat.

If this was what it meant to be human, for now she saw more clearly than she ever had done, she didn’t want to be.

A true leader is not meant to be greeted with unanimous praise by his people. A leader is meant to be questioned, to be suspect, to be hated. If he is not, then one can easily assume that either he has not challenged his abilities as a leader by making a decision that creates a split between the people, or he is forcing his subjects to bow before him.

Without the journey and crucial moment of understanding, I would still be questioning everything before me. I know now that I must trust what comes next, for there is a plan greater than the one I can see at work.

Without your own inner beast tamed ye can never tame the wild ones around ye!

I do not need a scabbard to sheathe my mind.

The truth is often of no consequence.

There exists a microscopic breed of brain beetle, commonly known as an ‘idea’. An idea desires only one thing: To catch the perfect brain wave.

A long time ago, there was a little girl called Mary. Now Mary, she was warned several times not to go to her neighbor’s house. Her neighbor was a grandmother. But Mary hardly listened, so she snuck off one night to spy on her. She tried the front door first, and it creaked open. Then suddenly, she heard a squeaking noise upstairs. She followed it – climbed up the wooden stairs where half of it was already rotten. She heard the squeaking noise again. It was coming from the library. She opened the door and hid behind a couch. She peered out, and she saw the grandmother.” Dave paused to drain his cup of coffee before continuing. My heart thudded so loudly, I thought that everyone could hear it. “So Mary gasped in disbelief as she heard the squeaking noise again, and the grandmother’s rocking chair was not moving at all. Then the grandmother opened her eyes and looked directly at her, holding her gaze steadily and sharply, and then suddenly, BOO!

Duke to Michel: I’m fairly certain that even ifyou’d struggle in a quiz against a pigeon, you are capable enough of opening doors.

She has no interest in human quarrels, for they are often petty and always pointless.

The universe is all about balance. The forces of light and darkness are meant to keep a check on one another. If one becomes too powerful and starts overrunning the other, that balance will be upset. For the tyranny of virtue is as unbearable as the stranglehold of vice.

All that is gold does not glitter.Not all those who wander are lost:The old that is strong does not wither.Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

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