Fantasy Fiction Quotes - Page 7

With the threat of them being potential spies or saboteurs, nobody will argue against our actions, and history itself will vindicate us.

The Clowns were Hungry. They did not want to wait to be fed. But when they sated there hunger, they wanted it to be in the right way, for the right reasons. They could wait . The Grace Keepers

As it so happens, Mr. Jest, I’ve sometimes come to believe as many as six impossible things before breakfast…

What she really felt like doing was reading. Escaping into the Enchanted Wood, up the Faraway Tree, or with the Famous Five into Smuggler's Top.

Fantasy fiction is essentially about the concept of power great fantasy fiction is about people who find it at great cost or lose it tragically mediocre fantasy fiction is about people who have it and never lose it but simply wield it.

Living with thieves, it would be a matter of moments before they picked the lock, but she certainly was not going to make it easy for them.

How age enamels us, she would say. It builds up in layers and locks us inside our own skin, stopping us from breaking out, preventing the outside from burrowing in.

Before I fix the world, I have to fix myself.

Maven Gustav, what is that awful noise?” Tobin bellowed, holding his hands over his ears.“Why, it’s my very own creation!” Gustav replied, beaming with pride. “I made this spell to be activated in the event of a castle emergency. In all my tests, it never failed to wake everyone,” he noted, proudly.“Yes, Gustav. It’s fantastically loud. Well done. But what is the emergency, and how do we turn the alarm off?

This was not what we wanted to hear that morning. Adventures inspire, tall tales excite, and fantasies stir the imagination, but sad stories seldom ever buoy the spirit. We all paused to take in the sad news.

All of us, together, are the unlovable, the unreformable. We, the people, who are deemed incapable of existing alongside society. But, we did just that in the forming of this guild. We have done more than simply build a place to sleep and eat and plan elaborate heists. We have found a place that we, at long last, belong. All of you remember how important that feeling was the first time you truly experienced it here… This guild is more than just an organization and a council and various members. To me, from the beginning, this guild has been a family. It is a place for people like us, the ones who had no place of their own. We made it ourselves, carved out a space in the world that we could call home.

I am the Merlin, bane of the Vale, terror of the four lands. I am chaos and shadows, the last of my people.

I can't wait to get my memory back. It sounds like I am a really cool person

And then I knew that despite all the pain and hard work all of us had gone through, despite the sadness and anger we felt, in the end, everything was going to be fine.tBut I did not know when the end was, or if it was even near.tBut that did not matter.tI preferred to look towards it in anticipation rather than worry about it. One new day equalled to one new adventure. And right now, I still had plenty of days left in my life. So I did not decide to sit down and plan out my life.tInstead, I decided to sit back, relax, and see where life would take me.

A flicker of someone else’s memory came to Simon and he picked up Excalibur from where he had dropped it. Carefully, he laid Excalibur on Arthur’s chest. A smile crossed the king’s pasty face as he closed his grazed hands around the sword’s hilt. The touch of something so familiar seemed to give Arthur cause to close his eyes and after a final, relieved breath left his lips, he died.

Even though we don't admit it, every single one of us aspires to be like somebody, whether they live in the world today, within the bard's lyrics, or on the pages in the Library

Go and you will see that nothing is as wonderful as our dreams can make it

it's through the simple things in life, through its games, when our minds mature the most and we grow knowledgeable. It's also when the cloth masks of our outer, false personalities are torn asunder, and we are able to see every last blemish of a man's genuine character that they hide beneath... no matter how dark or obscene it may be.

In other circumstances, Ivan might have offered him a job. Sadly, with a few notable meta exceptions, dead men didn’t code very well.

Return me safely to my home,” the princess said, “and I shall reward you with your weight in eggs.”tOlorun snorted derisively. “You’re joking, right?”tThe woman’s eyes flitted in embarrassment. t“Now wait a minute,” said Helianthus. “We’re talkin’ eggs here. What sort of eggs? Ostrich eggs?”tNeferre made an impatient noise. “Hel! She doesn’t have any eggs! Unless they’re hidden in a very . . . delicate place.” Neferre grinned at the princess. “Tell me your eggs are hidden where I think they’re hidden.

I opened my eyes and watched the water stream past me. I let out some of my air and gazed at the cascade of silver bubbles dancing up to the surface.

:Wait for me here?:t:Until the moon crumbles into the sea,: Shadowmane whispered. tWareska laughed again. :Always so eloquently dramatic.:

Make no mistake, Marin...a Dragon Guardian may not always be the one sitting upon the throne, but he or she is the protector of the entire realm.

There goes the world's wimpiest vampire.

They were full of suspicion and wonder, which I had grown to recognize as two very dangerous things.

I felt so much older now, so much more responsible. I guess that there were some positive outcomes: I knew more things than usual, and I knew that I really could accomplish anything and everything. But sometimes, all a fifteen-year-old girl wants is to stop growing. She wants time to slow down and eventually stand still where she can be young and inexperienced forever. Sometimes, she simply wants to remain a child.

And yet the night was still fresh: young as new dawn.There was still time for worlds to change, if that was to be their fate.

I can't stop thinking about dying the way humans do it. Imagine! If at any moment, you could just stop existing. How different everything would be.." They don't stop existing Lenia said...They have souls that live forever. Even knowing that, they fight so hard to stay alive. I think it's so beautiful. Imagine: being that fragile, that permanent.

When his dead father touched his hand, Athson almost dropped the arrow.

The ego of a god, the wit of a goldfish.

Just a girl? Hardly. In Hellea, you were a boy, a storyteller, a rogue who infiltrated the deepest cellars of the greatest library in the world. A born trickster as well. Before that, what were you? A warrior trained by a prince, a storyteller's daughter. And more, I should think. But never just a girl, Cassia.

He stood taller, and straighter, and broader, and infinitely more human than anything else Marcii could possibly imagine.

The cell door opened. My hands went to my eyes. Why was the door opened? I wasn’t dead yet. I think.

The mind that thought of light, heavy, grey, yellow, still, swift, also conceived of magic that would make heavy things light and be able to fly, turn grey lead into yellow gold, and the still rock into a swift water.

If the ending is not happy, the story is not finished.

The best thing to do when someone is trying to argue with you is to repeatedly state "Stay Away" and video record the entire event. You may need that video for the police afterwords when the aggressor starts fabricating fantasies about the event.

Evil surrounds everyone, but not everyone is able to confront it.

I’ll never turn her away, Clyde. She’s my mate. I’ll protect her till my dying breath. I’ll even swallow my pride and ask a favor as momentous as the one I just asked of a man who has done nothing but try to drive a wedge between her and myself.

Each day Marda gets closer. The sub circles coral reefs off the coasts, where mermaids are said to like the colors of the schools of fishes, and train them to swim around their necks like jewelry or live behind their ears, beneath their long hair. Sometimes mermaids like shallow places, but mostly they like the dark and the beautiful, uncharted, abandoned, soulless parts of the undiscovered world.

It does no good for you to spend all of your time worrying about what may come and being blind to what you have in the present.” ~Blaez, The Guardians of Eastgate

I could have drowned today. If they hadn’t been screaming my name so loudly and if I hadn’t woken up, I would have drowned.

I’m Detective Piper of the Fairyland Metro Police, and I've been called in to investigate the incident of the missing frog prince…

She snuggled close, nuzzling her hair beneath his chin. “Never leave me,” she whispered back. The siren chuckled sadly, the sound vibrating up through his chest and pleasantly against her ear. “But I must return to the sea every now and then or I will die.” He sighed. “Some part of me believes it would be a good death.

With him I couldn’t be anything but myself and that scared the crap out of me, because I had never existed like that before.

Helianthus snorted. “Olorun is like his mother: he will only change as the face of a rock changes. But . . . I think he missed you.

I CLOSED MY EYES AND PRETENDED SHE WAS YOU. illutions- aprilynne pike

just because a mage wears the black robes does not make him evil.

I told you; I am Arianna, the Siren, your Guardian, and how is a Guardian supposed to do her job if she is clueless about the Guardianee?

He was in a strange, badly lit room, wearing even stranger clothes, getting an earful from an unknown woman, in a language that he could and couldn’t exactly place in a very disturbing way.These were not his memories.

Fantasy writing must be grounded in both truth and life experience if it is to work. It can be as inventive and creative as the writer can make it, a whirlwind of images and plot twists, but it cannot be built on a foundation of air. The world must be identifiable with our own, must offer us a frame of reference we can recognize.”“Fantasy stories work because the writer has interwoven bits and pieces of reality with imagination to form a personal vision.

He rubbed at his face, as if seeking to awaken the right words from muscle, blood and bone.

Demon,” the woman spat onto the road. “Well, girl, thank you. I grant no one’s wishes and so you mark me ‘demon.’ I grant no wishes and I do as I see fit to be done. I will not answer to you, girl, nor to any one of yours, but I will always look. I am not the one who turns away.

Shelby looked over to see Andrew silently mouthing syllables to himself, as if he were part of an ecstatic rite. He grinned as he bit fricatives and tongued plosives. He was tasting English origins, mulling over words ripped from bronze-smelling hoards. Words that had slept beneath centuries of dust and small rain, sharp and bright as scale mail. Poetry had never moved her quite so much as drama. She loved the shock of colloquy, the beat and treble of words doing what they had to on stage. Andrew preferred the echo of poems buried alive.

If the other novice wizards on the row hadn't broken into Raeshaldis's rooms, pissed on her bed and written WHORE and THIEF on the walls, she probably would have been killed on the night of the full moon.

To read is to live inside a new world...

:The way to the Seaglass Stair will be long and arduous. There will be those who wish to stop you. They will kill you to keep you from succeeding.:t:Why? That’s insane.:t:As if insanity were some fabrication, some dark tale Hemfra told you one night when you were a child and refused to sleep. There will always be resistance to anything and everything, defying all logic, all natural sense of self-preservation. There will be those who wish for you to simply let the world fade away. It is the way of humans to be illogical for the sake of personal conviction and made up nonsense.:

The raven – Asker – immediately cawed. It sounded suspiciously like laughter. “Not... be afraid of Asker.” The raven’s button eyes gleamed. “He only eats worms… you are not worm.

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

We came upon a massacre at the Shrine of Prometheus. The humans were ripped to shreds. There was no one ieft alive to say what happened, said Eros.

Those who try to juggle wisdom, power and greed, drop one of the balls, every time.”—Zarost