c2p-cmd/Good-Quotes-Authors huggingface dataset:
How crazy it would be if the moon did spin and the earth stood still and the sun went dim!How absolutely ludicrous if snakes could walk and kids could fly and mimes did talk!How silly it would be if the nights were tan and the mornings green and the sun cyan!How totally ridiculous if horses chirped and spiders sang and ladies burped!How shocking it would be if the dragons ruled and the knights were daft but the fish were schooled!How utterly preposterous if rain were dry and snowflakes warm and real men cried!I love to just imagineall the lows as heights,and the salty, sweet,and our lefts as rights.Perhaps it is incredibleand off the hook,but it all makes sensein a storybook! 
— Richelle E. Goodrich, Making Wishes
When the time comes, don’t be afraid to open the door, just make sure you choose the right one.
— Alex E. Carey, Earth's Embrace
Wynter's Pass was a picturesque region in the north of Vohlfhein, where the Bleak Hills eventually collapsed into the Frozen Sea. From the back of Mr. Buckles, who had been on a slow trot since sunrise, Monch watched the light glisten off of the frozen branches of the evergreens. As the sun warmed the frozen ground, sending the evening's frost into retreat, Monch absorbed the splendor of it all and wondered how expensive the local real estate must be around here. He then contemplated attempting to find an agent that would represent his interests well."This land is such a spectacular wonder," the Lion of Ahriman declared. "It would be very much sought after if they could just do something about the bears, the White Orts, the wolves, the bloodthirsty cannibals, the snow manapés, the frost wizards, the northern bandit gangs, the dire lynxes, the similarly sounding but not related pygmy bloodthirsty cannibals, the demon possessed yaks, the dead-soul animated trees, the..." Monch paused for a moment."It just occurred to me that this land is really not safe at all. It seems almost everything in it wants to kill me," the Templar admitted.
— D.F. Monk, Tales of Yhore: The Chronicles of Monch
Even the best-laid plans turn to hell when exposed to reality.
— Michael     Anthony, Medieval Future: The Last Dragon Throne: An Epic Fantasy Adventure
- "Surely you have considered terrorist activity?"There was another pause. Then the spokesman said, in the quiet tones of someone who has had enough and who is going to quit after this and raise chickens somewhere, "Yes, I suppose we must. All we need to do is find some terrorists who are capable of taking an entire nuclear reactor out of its can while it's running and without anyone noticing. It weighs about a thousand tons and is forty feet high. So they'll be quite strong terrorists. Perhaps you'd like to ring them up, sir, and ask them questions in that supercilious, accusatory way of yours."-- The BBC interviews a nuclear spokesperson (Terry Pratchett & Neil Gaiman, Good Omens)
— Terry Pratchett
By the second cycle of the solstice of the warm time, the One will face the enemy. And the One will unearth the Shield of the Northern Lights and smote the enemy with daring and intelligence. The heart of the One is pious and evil will cower. Couatl will rise.
— Barbara T. Cerny, Shield of the Palidine
And the One will win the Armor of the Easter Dawn and defeat the enemy with audacity and wisdom. The body of the One is strong and ready to lead. Lammasu will pounce
— Barbara T. Cerny, Shield of the Palidine
Oh. Now you are not so afraid, then?"Kitty opened her mouth, indignant. "I was not afraid before! I was... shocked. How many times do you see your orphanage roommate be able to turn someone into stone?""Every time I look in the mirror.
— Ana Franco, Down the Wormhole
And the One will take the Sword of the Western Sun and triumph over the enemy with boldness and insight. The arm of the One is steady and heads will roll. Snow Giants will battle
— Barbara T. Cerny, Shield of the Palidine
Don't threaten me with a good time.
— Michael     Anthony, Medieval Future: The Last Dragon Throne: An Epic Fantasy Adventure
Love when you can, and fight when you must, but stand together and never give up, not to the enemy, and not on each other.
— Alex E. Carey, Earth's Embrace
Even the best laid plans turn to hell when exposed to reality
— Michael     Anthony, Medieval Future: The Last Dragon Throne: An Epic Fantasy Adventure
I write fiction. It may have mystery, it may have horror, it may have fantasy, it may have love, but like life, it's all the same genre.
— Don Roff
With the fading of the final notes the saxophone player turns to me. Its baleful, otherworldly gaze bores into my soul. It lowers its instrument to the disc and extends a podgy, grey hand to point at me. It looms closer, its head expanding, arm elongating. A clammy digit brushes the tip of my nose and a tingling numbness spreads over my face like an ice-cold spider web. 	A voice like the rustle of dried leaves whispers inside my head: “Forever…” The last syllable stretches, just like my grandfather’s dying breath.	And the beady, black orbs are no longer eyes but deep, obsidian pits…
— Scott Kaelen, Falling
Everything changes, and there’s no denying that. But change isn’t always bad, as long as you hold onto who you truly are, and hold onto each other.
— Alex E. Carey, Earth's Embrace
And the One will reveal the Bow of the Southern Star and conquer the enemy with courage and fine judgment. The sight of the One is true and the enemy cannot hide. Griffon will fly
— Barbara T. Cerny, Shield of the Palidine
He continued to attack the gate. His arm started to ache. The hammer was designed for neither brute nor force. "Are you all right up there?" asked Eleanor. "Want me to go see if I can find a small child to give you a lift?" "Maybe if we swapped positions and you condescended at the gate, we'd get through faster?
— Gary Meehan, True Dark
...I can't promise you that we will live 'happily ever after'....however..I can promise you the adventure of a lifetime.
— H.R. Kasper, The Mirror
Together we can take this world, and all those whose knees have never felt the sting of the earth will bow to us
— Isabella Rogge, Sanguine Moon
Chaos lifted on wings and flew.
— Isabella Rogge, Sanguine Moon
Come, Leigh, come with me...
— H.R. Kasper, The Mirror
A crush of bodies surrounded the featureless monument. The enraged dead clambered atop their ghastly kin. Caiaphas tucked his knees to his chest and hugged his legs tightly, staring at the scores of ragged, flailing hands as they scratched for purchase over the edge of the cylinder. Metal thrummed and thunder roared, filling his head.	Now there were words within the deafening roar. 	“Straaaange,” they seemed to say. 		“Daaaace…”	“Straaaangerrrr…”	Then a quick, awful chant: “CAIAPHAS! FOREVER! CAI—”	And with a piercing whistle it ended as his eardrums burst.
— Scott Kaelen, Island in the Sands
it was like staring at a whitewashed wall, but without all the emotion
— Joe Abercrombie
It is so easy at times for a lonely individual to begin fantasizing about what the people outside are saying about him and, in result, irrationally and fearfully, and sometimes angrily, fancy himself a villain.
— Criss Jami, Healology
Without thinking, I step a little closer, reaching out slowly to slide a fingertip over the largest petal of the lily tattoo on her lower back. Instantly a vibration moves up my arm, and I swear the mark on my hand burns against my skin.I clench my fingers into a fist, but I don’t step away.“Did you feel that?” she asks.I shake my head. “I don’t know.” I feel so much, always so much.She takes my hand and brings it to her side again, resting it on the violets. I look at thepurple flowers between my fingers and feel the heat of her skin, the way it slides beneath my palm, soft as silk. And that vibration moves through my arm again.Her breath quickens.I find myself moving closer as her blue eyes go wide with wonder. My heart stutters and my chest aches with some unknown need.“Are you doing this?” I ask. Is she making me want this?“No,” she breathes. The smell of her turns to spice, sharp and warm, and I know I’m sensing her now, even through the block in the house.We stand like that for an eternity, still as statues on the outside, but inside I’m running, running toward a place I’ve never been. I should be terrified. But all I feel is strength. Rightness.And then Kara moves, her hands skimming up my chest, testing the boundaries. Her palms slide to my shoulders, her fingers tracing the line of the muscles in my arms, down to my waist. She grips my shirt, stretching it a little, waiting for me to tell her to stop. But I watch her lift it, let her pull it up, raising my arms, and I even take the last of it off myself, dropping it to the floor.We breathe, staring at each other.The vibrations move between us. My left arm buzzes with them. I think she’s doing it. Whatever’s happening, it’s her.I reach up and brush my marked knuckles across her cheek, amazed at the feel of her, the way her eyes seem to see everything, the way she pulls me into her. I can’t seem to remember why I shouldn’t kiss her. And kiss her. And . . .I kiss her, taking her face in both hands, skimming my thumb over her jaw as she leans into the touch, reaching out to curl her fingers around the back of my neck. I have to remind myself to breathe. I need more of her. The emotions roll over me in a rush, a tangle of sensation and movement, heat and sugar and heady aromas.I grip her tighter.Her nails dig into my shoulders. My hands slide down her spine. The kiss deepens, goes on forever, until I can barely see sense. I explore her shape, the feel of her ribs, the textures and taste of her skin on my tongue as I kiss her neck, her shoulders, her chest. As I draw trembling gasps from her lips, she grips me so hard it hurts.Our bodies mesh. Our breath mingles in frenzied desperation. Nothing else exists except her. Her warmth. Her spice. Her.
— Rachel A. Marks, Darkness Brutal
I just think the world ought to be more sort of organized.''That's just fantasy,' said Twoflower.'I know. That's the trouble.' Rincewind sighed again.
— Terry Pratchett, The Color of Magic
I am ewe to your ram. How can I call myself a man anymore?""The penis is a dead giveaway.
— Jill Knowles, Concubine
Holy sea turtles!" - Arabella Valli, The Equinox (Book Two of the Summer Solstice Series)
— K.K. Allen, The Equinox
A book can’t be a half-fantasy any more than a woman can be half pregnant
— David Mitchell, The Bone Clocks
There are people who can never go to Fantastica," said Mr. Coreander, "and others who can, but who stay there forever. And there are just a few who fo to fantastica and come back. Like you. And they make both world well again.
— Michael Ende, The Neverending Story
Freud wrote that love involves the undervaluation of reality and the overvaluation of the desired object. While the correct valuation of a person is an odd, if not impossible idea, we might say Freud meant something like this: for various reasons, many of them masochistic, we become involved with others who cannot possibly give what we ask for; we can wait as long as we wish, but they do not have it, and one day, if we bear to abandon our fantasy and see clearly, we might face reality straight on. We will then look elsewhere for fulfillment, to a place where our needs can, in fact, be satisfied.
— Hanif Kureishi
A fantasy is a journey. It is a journey into the subconscious mind, just as psychoanalysis is. Like psychoanalysis, it can be dangerous; and it will change you.
— Ursula K. Le Guin, From Elfland to Poughkeepsie
The world of books is my fantasy.
— Lailah Gifty Akita, Think Great: Be Great!
What is fantasy? On one level, of course, it is a game: a pure pretense with no ulterior motive whatever. It is one child saying to another child, “Let’s be dragons,” and then they’re dragons for an hour or two. It is escapism of the most admirable kind—the game played for the game’s sake. On another level, it is still a game, but a game played for very high stakes. Seen thus, as art, not spontaneous play, its affinity is not with daydream, but with dream. It is a different approach to reality, an alternative technique for apprehending and coping with existence. It is not antirational but pararational; not realistic, but surrealistic, superrealistic, a heightening of reality. In Freud’s terminology, it employs primary, not secondary process thinking. It employs archetypes, which, Jung warned us, are dangerous things. Dragons are more dangerous, and a good deal commoner, than bears. Fantasy is nearer to poetry, to mysticism, and to insanity than naturalistic fiction is. It is a real wilderness, and those who go there should not feel too safe. And their guides, the writers of fantasy, should take their responsibilities seriously.
— Ursula K. Le Guin
Now he understood what it was to be a man: that it was to be weak as well as strong, to be foolish sometimes and wise sometimes, to know love as well as to kill. And he had learned that there were other paths for him, other gods who called in the deep places of the earth, in the lap of wavelets on the shore, in the breath of the wind. He had learned that there were other kinds of courage. He knew, with deep certainty, that the islands held a new path for him. He need only move forward and find it.
— Juliet Marillier, Wolfskin
Somewhere in this world there exists an exceptional philosopher named Florie Rotondo.The other day I came across one of her ruminations printed in a magazine devoted to the writings of schoolchildren. It said: “If I could do anything, I would go to the middle of our planet, Earth, and seek uranium, rubies, and gold. I'd look for Unspoiled Monsters. Then I'd move to the country. --Florie Rotondo, age 8.”Florie, honey, I know just what you mean – even if you don’t: how could you, age eight?
— Truman Capote, Answered Prayers - The Unfinished Novel
First, I'm a writer; I look at things from a different point of view. The untrained eye is the eye that sees what's been missed.Devon, from The Dragon's Breath by Jenna Lindsey
— Jenna Lindsey, The Dragon's Breath
Inside the flower, within the very structure of its petals, my soul is an element of nature, at one with the blooming Meadow Pinx in the fields on the coast of Marnan.
— M. Larose, The Flower Eater
One of the rocks in my soulbag, a little grey rock that I had picked up on a certain day in a certain place in the hills above the river in the Silver Time, a little piece of my world, that became my world. |Every night I took it out and held it in my hand while I lay in bed waiting to sleep, thinking of the sunlight on the hills above the river, listening to the soft shushing of the ship’s systems, like a mechanical sea
— Ursula K. Le Guin, The Unreal and the Real: Selected Stories, Volume One: Where on Earth
Oooo wee! You see that chump go flying? Look’eah, nothing like charred demon to make a brotha feel right. - Calvin Freeman (Sineaters‬:Devotion Book One)
— Kai Leakes, Sin Eaters
Fantasy is unconstrained by truth.
— Hilary Mantel, Wolf Hall
Some truths are hard to swallow, so we share it within tales that most people will accept without being frightened by the truth hidden within.
— Larry Itejere, The Lamtin Star
He turned his gaze upon her, and their eyes not only met, the pupils shook hands, exchanged business cards, and sat down for tea together.
— John Moore
The problem with Fate is that its own purpose is often hidden in the path of the journeyed, whether they realized it or not.
— Antoinette Turner, Cookies & Cream
We spent 10 years writing our first fiction story and truly hope people like it.
— Tony D'Urso, The Good, Bad and Gold: The Pursuit
I love you all for bearing with me, whether I was asking your opinion on the best sources to base the magic in the book off of, hearing your suggestions on wording, or having an argument with you on just how "that sentence has completely correct grammar." On that note, also telling me when the fantasy just got way too cheesy.
— Kristyn Van Cleave
I know perfectly well he's a god, too. But what I think is he'll be much godlier after he's dead.
— Ursula K. Le Guin
Metal rusts, music lasts forever.
— Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind
White IrisThe iris danced acrossthe ancient Grecian skiesgliding with her embossedsatiny milken sides ...
— Muse, Enigmatic Evolution
Listen" Darkstalker said, "I could see the future, but not just any future- all the possible futures. Do you understand what that means? I could have guided the tribe along the best path, to safety and glory and power and everything else. At each crossroad, I would have known the right thing to do. I loved my tribe Moonwatcher. i would have been the best ruler they'd ever had. I know it; I saw the futures where I was king, benevolent and beloved, married to Clearsight with six little dragonets of our own. Those were possible. They could have happened, if anyone had faith in me.
— Tui T. Sutherland
What do you suppose it means?'[Bastian] asked. ""DO WHAT YOU WISH.'" That must mean I can do anything I feel like. Don't you think so? All at once Grograman's face looked alarmingly grave, and his eyes glowed. 'No,' he said in his deep, rumbling voice. 'It means that you must do what you really and truly want. And nothing is more difficult.' 'What I really and truly want? What do you mean by that?' 'It's your own deepest secret and you yourself don't know it.' 'How can I find out?' 'By going the way of your wishes, from one to another, from first to last. It will take you to what you really and truly want.' 'That doesn't sound so hard,' said Bastian. 'It's the most dangerous of all journeys.' 'Why?' Bastian asked. 'I'm not afraid.' 'That isn't it,' Grograman rumbled. 'It requires the greatest honesty and vigilance, because there's no other journey on which it's so easy to lose yourself forever.
— Michael Ende, The Neverending Story
Little Maiden Encounters FearDeepest regions walked she therelittle maiden sweet and fairventured far from the pathnever a whispernever a laugh...
— Muse, Enigmatic Evolution
The human world is full of weak-minded people, who think they're as clever as can be and are convinced that it's terribly important to persuade even the children that Fanstastica doesn't exist.
— Michael Ende, The Neverending Story
Brahma and AiravataLong ago in lands of golden sandBrahma turned to Saraswatiand gently kissed her inked hand....
— Muse, Enigmatic Evolution
Fiction is just a mirror of reality for the most part. Many things that happen in fiction don’t even happen here. But as far as pain and sadness. Joy and love, life and death, it’s all real here. Here it’s real.
— Lucian Bane, The Scribbler Guardian
Sleeping AtlantisSilent cool watersdancing upon her skin ~silent cool waterushering dreams within...
— Muse, Enigmatic Evolution
Git'er DoneThey beat their swords upon their shieldsTo no beast or man would they yield
— Muse, Enigmatic Evolution
One foot in each world, riding them simultaneously; expecting not to fall.
— Kelly Proudfoot, Delwyn of the Realms
Dorian, I have wings!” “I can see that.” “What am I?” I asked, as chills ran up my spine. “I—I can’t be positive, because I have never seen one. But I think you’re a phoenix,” he said in amazement. “You are so beautiful.
— Karen Gammons, Phoenix
Meadow's Waltz...the meadow had becomeher sanctuary of spiritoffering an escape from a painno child should ever endureforeboding clouds began...
— Muse, Enigmatic Evolution
You'll have to outfly the west wind to catch me.
— Claire M. Banschbach, The Rise of Aredor
Dorian sat quietly for a moment and then said, “We all straddle the abyss, Penny. If you never look down, how will you ever know who you are or what you will become? Your dad could never be ashamed of you, because falling in that abyss is part of the process of growing up.
— Karen Gammons
The Decision...I wiped my hands on my pinaforenow sullied and stainednot crisp or pressedas it had been before...
— Muse, Enigmatic Evolution
The River SwishDeftly maneuvered through the dark green abyss ~The wooden raft seemed in tune with this ~Canorous rush of theriver swish....
— Muse, Enigmatic Evolution
Calico KittyMy calico kittywas painted and primedshe could prowlthe night away ~without spending a dime...
— Muse, Enigmatic Evolution
The flames of the fire leapt up and surrounded her, consuming her, becoming her. Heat filled and flushed her, breaking the bottle and she soared up and up. She came to stand in a sun's center. But that even faded and she rode pillion with Emmerich as he crossed the field on his black battle charger, her hands gripping his sides. The edges of his chain-mail bit into her skin and she could hear his labored breath. She could smell his particular scent: horse and leather, sweat and musk. Men roared like the ocean and rushed like waves to slam against the opposing force meeting them outside the walls.
— Suzanna J. Linton, Clara
The thunder of horses’ hooves grows ever louder, but, still, I do not move. The thunder of those hooves, the thudding of my heart, and the gasping in my lungs make such a cacophony, it’s a wonder I hear Edmund at all.
— Suzanna J. Linton, Willows of Fate
Why can’t I have my own life?!
— Suzanna J. Linton, Willows of Fate
Samantha turns toward us as we enter and her mouth drops open. “You.” Pure joy floods her face like sunlight falling through storm clouds, and she runs up to me, laying hands on either side of my face as she gazes deeply into my eyes. “There you are.
— Suzanna J. Linton, Willows of Fate
Great! I’m addressing the King of Altoln…about who knows what, but I’m at the centre of it and everyone’s looking at me now, oh for all the gods’ sake Falchion, swallow it down and say something damn you.
— J.P.Ashman
Gavin scratched his head, idly wondering what his father would tell him right about then. Probably steal the slave and run. Father's solution was always to steal and run. But he had a job to finish.	"All right," he said finally, "here's what we'll do. We'll pretend this night didn't happen." 	That earned another sarcastic look.
— Suzanna J. Linton, Clara
Before she could let herself think, Clara burst from the door and bolted for the table. People just began turning when she grasped the guest and shoved him to the ground, the chair flying backwards. Wine and food spilled everywhere as he flung out his arms. For a moment, she felt a swift pressure, as if her hair was being pulled, before strong hands gripped her, flinging her to the floor. A boot pressed into her back and she felt the cold tip of blade on her neck above her slave's collar.
— Suzanna J. Linton, Clara
Emmerich's heart in his throat, he could only stare down at Monica, who looked up at him with glassy eyes as she shivered with pain and choked on blood.
— Suzanna J. Linton, Clara
Oh-ho, so you are a witch. More like a witchling, as you're too small to be a full witch.” (Emmerich)
— Suzanna J. Linton, Clara
A novel is a bridge from one heart to another. - Anon
— Susan   McKenzie, Tamisan
If I'd learned anything, it was that the gods never had good news - especially when it was delivered by the resurrected corpse of your worst enemy.
— T.T. Faulkner, The Lost Memory
Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life… You give them a piece of you. They don't ask for it. They do something dumb one day like kiss you, or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase like "maybe we should just be friends" or "how very perceptive" turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. Nothing should be able to do that. Especially not love. I hate love.
— Neil Gaiman, The Kindly Ones
She seemed like the kind of woman who would fall in love with the sky.
— Nenia Campbell, Cease and Desist
What if the Devil doesn't know he's the Devil?
— Cathrine Goldstein, The Letting
She was murdered by rebels.' He took in her unconcealed look of shock. 'So there you go. Something for you to celebrate.' Magnus turned away from her, ready to find solace in his chambers, but the princess grabbed his arm to stop him. He sent a dark look at her over his shoulder. 'I would never celebrate death, no matter whose it is,' she said, her gaze filled with anger and something else. Something that looked vaguely like sympathy. 'Come now, I'm sure you wouldn't mourn any Damora.' 'I know very well what it's like to lose a parent in a tragic way.' 'Oh, yes, we have so much in common. Maybe we should get married.
— Morgan Rhodes
Am I supposed to feel so much awe and so on about the Godking? After all, he's just a man ... He's about fifty years old, and he's bald. And I'll bet he has to cut his toenails too like any other man. I know perfectly well he's a god, too. But what I think is, he'll be much godlier after he's dead.
— Ursula K. Le Guin, The Tombs of Atuan
From dawn to dusk I spent my time in the real world. Only in my dreams at night could I indulge my fantasies.
— Rampo Edogawa, The Edogawa Rampo Reader
Would you give up the craft of your hands, and the passion of your heart, and the hunger of your mind, to buy safety?
— Ursula K. Le Guin, The Farthest Shore
I feel how little it concerns me, everything that’s called "the world," and how grand and exciting what I privately call the world is to me.
— Robert Walser, Jakob von Gunten
It was as if he had two faces, one of utmost calm, one of furious action; and he wore both with ease. He was like the animal whose face he wore, able to sit in silence for hours, without moving a muscle, then flying like a raging storm into battle, returning again to perfect calm when the fight was over.
— Kaoru Kurimoto, The Leopard Mask
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?
— Brandon Mull, Rise of the Evening Star
Humans have reason to hate us dragons. If one dragon turns against humankind, he is a great and terrible foe.
— Kathryn Fogleman, Tales of the Wovlen: The Dragon' Son
We are exiles in Time's abyss, strangers now in the Promised Land.
— D.B. Nielsen, Seed
Come what may and hell to pay.
— Gregory Maguire
You’re not doing a good job of selling me this dumb fantasy. I’m not climbing into the back of your van if I have to be Robin. I’m Batman. That’s how these things work.
— John  Kerry, Eden at the Edge of Midnight
The women in the kitchen sang: Sarampión toca la puerta. Viruela dice: ¿Quién es? Y Escarlatina contesta: ¡Aquí estamos los tres! The cook would sometimes shout a little madly, “Sing it again!” And the women would sing again: Measles knocks at the door. Smallpox asks, Who’s there? And Scarlet Fever replies: All three of us are here!
— Sharman Apt Russell, Teresa of the New World
Our sexual fantasies are often redundant and intense, like many other ideas involving ourselves. Most people approach sexuality limited to the idea that they should imitate other people, art (e.g., romantic literature) or movies (e.g., pornography). In this way, vicarious events and even fictions become a point of reference that we can actually feel. We judge actual people in our real lives against fictional events and unrealistic concepts. As such, real lovers seem inferior as a result.
— Todd Vickers, The Relevance of Kabir
After the third [San Miguel], I am likely to announce that all writing is fantasy anyway: that to set any event down in print is immediately to begin to lie about it, thank goodness; and that it's no less absurd and presumptuous to try on the skin of a bank teller than that of a Bigfoot or a dragon.
— Peter S. Beagle, The Fantasy Worlds of Peter Beagle
I'd run. But maybe you can't run. Think of that, too.' His yellow eyes seemed to look inward, and he sounded tired. 'Sometimes you can't run.
— Robert Jordan
Gerry reached up to smooth a bit of that snowy mane. The strands slipped through his fingers like silk to reveal a witch's mark, a spiral of olive-green stones that seemed to be a part of Ghost’s very forehead, shining against the translucent skin. Gerry had seen such marks before, peculiar glyphs burned into a witch's skin in vibrant jewel-tone inks to offer protection or enhance their power, or so the witches claimed. This was the first time he had seen actual jewels used, though. He thought it was beautiful, exotic like all of Ghost, with that white hair and those ice blue eyes. Gerry returned to admiring the peaceful face resting on his shoulder.
— Morwen Navarre, Ghost's Sight
Holding fantasy to our chests only means our hands are not free to work.
— Thomm Quackenbush, Pagan Standard Times: Essays on the Craft
Walking alongside his apprentice’s horse, Sethil Longmere, magus of the Third Circle, Magi Master of Dormir’s army, and a man who had seen more years than most men could count, did his best to keep his apprentice Rousche from falling off his gelding. The dun horse had a sure foot and a good temper, but it seemed unlikely the animal was used to a grown man lying face first in its mane, legs sprawled behind, dangling with each step.
— Clifton Hill, Veil of a Warrior
Bad manners does not mean they make bad company.
— Kelly R. Michaels, Prince of the Vale
Never, Never give up, no matter what is you age, magick always is there. Use it!
— Bobbie Kinkead, Rhyonna's Fright, A Faery's Challenge to Save Her Realm
Ian looked skyward to see the firedrake soaring overhead. Its mass was a black deluge, an eclipse of aberrant origins, and its wings were tautly wound, like a spider’s web. Scales that shown like bejeweled armor glistened upon its body. Its tail crashed against the air; the storm surge of an impetuous sea. The shadow it cast was an aperture of dementia that ripped asunder the sanity of those who watched. Astride the beast’s spine, rode a figure that resembled a man, but with such grandeur at his disposal, appeared a living god.
— Fernando A. Torres, The Shadow That Endures
The unnamed man’s nose flared in insult as he thought to himself while the pig named Corbin prattled on. He disgusts me with his gluttonous sweat and fearful stink. He is like a swine, plumped up for the slaughter, but none I would like to eat. He sits across the table from me wheedling, desiring, wanting more and more and more. He wants assurances of safety, he wants money, he want, he wants, he wants... I am close, but not quite ready, to lean across and slit his jowls with a second smile, stand up and leave. But that is not my job...not yet.
— Clifton Hill, Veil of a Warrior
What about the other girl with you—Forra? Why is she with you?”“I saved her from execution. She is very vocal about her dislike of the king.”“Then why did you save her?” Garvanna asked.Caelfel's expression hardened. “Because the king is wrong, and she is right. King Orrik wouldn’t even save his own son.
— Kelly R. Michaels, Prince of the Vale
Keegan opened his eyes and gasped in awe when he saw his gift. In his hand was a beautiful silver ring. It had a bright, shining ruby embedded in the center, and two golden dragons on either side of the ruby seemed to be caressing it, making it the most stunning ring Keegan had ever seen.
— Kathryn Fogleman, Tales of the Wovlen: The Dragons Son
But then he saw it, then he saw what he had known he was seeing and could not accept. There in the night, amid the mist, upon the flat of the plains, the shimmer of light from Allear was not right. The grasses were too flat, the mists curled awkwardly, as if impeded by some large mass and then the glamor was gone, the trick revealed. And before Thorin’s very eyes, a mass of soldiers appeared — thousands of them — wearing black and facing his camp. Doom settled around Thorin like some shroud for a watery grave. “Ah, bloody hell.
— Clifton Hill, Veil of a Warrior
Now she could smell what the jaguar could smell, odors deeper and richer than anything she had experienced before, layers of smell she could read like Fray Tomás had read the words in her father’s book: the wet decay of leaves, the death fear of a mouse, the poisonous cloy of datura, water and mud and insects, the wind carrying the smell of other animals, the wind itself, and the girl, of course, always the girl with her juicy flesh. The girl smelled incredibly good. Should the jaguar do this? Should Teresa eat herself?
— Sharman Apt Russell, Teresa of the New World
Cabeza de Vaca had wrapped her in his arms and in his language, whispering about a life she did not understand although understanding seemed to form just beyond the sea and sand, waiting there for her to grow older. Even when the story confused her, she had caught words or phrases, ideas like fish, bold and surprising, tasting of her father’s mind. She had learned quickly to nod and speak because he needed her to do this, because his need surrounded her like the blue sky. She was his bastard, and he had loved her. Yes, he had loved her. That was the memory she couldn’t bear.
— Sharman Apt Russell, Teresa of the New World
How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand... there is no going back? There are some things that time cannot mend. Some hurts that go too deep.
— J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
Imagination is absolutely critical to the quality of our lives. Our imagination enables us to leave our routine everyday existence by fantasizing about travel, food, sex, falling in love, or having the last word—all the things that make life interesting. Imagination gives us the opportunity to envision new possibilities—it is an essential launchpad for making our hopes come true. It fires our creativity, relieves our boredom, alleviates our pain, enhances our pleasure, and enriches our most intimate relationships.
— Bessel A. van der Kolk, The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma
I'd rather be in danger with you than be safe without you.
— Fuyumi Ono, The Twelve Kingdoms: Sea of Shadow
Awareness is our true self; it’s what we are. So we don’t have to try to develop awareness; we simply need to notice how we block awareness, with our thoughts, our fantasies, our opinions, and our judgments. We’re either in awareness, which is our natural state, or we’re doing something else. The mark of mature students is that most of the time, they don’t do something else. They’re just here, living their life. Nothing special.
— Charlotte Joko Beck
A faerie heart is different from a human heart. Human hearts are elastic. They have room for all sorts of passions, and they can break and heal and love again and again. Faerie hearts are evolutionarily less sophisticated. They are small and hard, like tiny grains of sand. Our hearts are too small to love more than one person in a lifetime...I tried to talk sense into my hard little heart. But it had landed on Peter, a creature two hundred times my size and barely aware of me, and there was no prying it loose.
— Jodi Lynn Anderson, Tiger Lily
Long has black powder been in the hands of dwarves alone. Alas, winds ever change and nothing remains the same forever.Lord Arrlo Salkeld
— J.P. Ashman, Black Cross
How does evil arise? Where does it come from? We think of malevolent men-— murderers, rapists, tyrants—and somehow believe they are different creatures from us. They are not. All evil men were once innocent babes, once lovable children. Men make choices, some consistently bad. But those who choose the worst kinds of evil were typically guided into it.
— Daniel Ionson, After Life
Reality and fantasy are not two separate spheres but one whole. They are like a world's atmosphere―reality behaving as a low front, fantasy a high front. Each remains somewhat distinguishable and yet they swirl and join, affecting and manipulating the other. One cannot perceive where reality ends and fantasy begins, but life would grow stagnant and die without the influence of both.
— Richelle E. Goodrich, Making Wishes
Travelers aren't found. They're called.
— Chess Desalls, Insight Kindling
Hell, he now understood, went beyond simple torture. Hell inflicted agony with intermittent reprieves to maintain the hope of peace. Hell was not endless dark, but rare rays of sunlight to keep one’s eyes longing for their bright beauty. Hell forced hours of suffocation beneath the freezing water with times of release to keep one accustomed to the joy of breath, to let needful expectation be repeatedly stabbed by deprivation.
— Daniel Ionson, After Life
We are not at the pinnacle of our power, of our existence. We have scrambled to the top of an ant-hill at the bottom of the world’s highest mountain. We have long way still to climb.” - The Blue Mountain
— G.R. Matthews
That's half of your trouble," muttered the crocodile. "You believe everything's true.""That's because everything is," replied Mr. Bacchus.
— Clive Barker
Evil is just . . . so harsh. I prefer ethically unfettered.
— Jessica Minyard, Stones and Finger Bones
Have you ever been in a situation where you had to choose between your loved ones, knowing that whatever you decided, you would have to lie to one of them?’‘Yes. More than once.’ Elijah’s words sounded far too cold in the sudden silence. His finely chiselled face tensed up and his eyes grew cold. ‘And before you ask, I chose you every time.
— A.O. Esther, Breath of Darkness
Was it magic? Of course it was.
— Brian Jacques
But life is beautiful, Sariel!’ Gabriel said, trying to convince him. ‘Watch the sunrise sometime lying in the scented flowers of the field, or the shooting stars at the end of summer! Read a couple of really exciting books or lose yourself in the unselfconscious smiles of children. Have a swim in a clear mountain lake or take a run among trees clothed in autumn colours. If you can see the good in Earth, your own existence will become the richer for it!’‘That all sounds very well and good, but you haven’t convinced me,’ the deep-voiced angel murmured and Ariel laughed. ‘My friend, Gabriel was very gently trying to suggest that you should fall in love and that will better dispose you to the world!
— A.O. Esther, Breath of Darkness
Real vampires don't get pain, we give it." Florence da Vinci, Real Vampires Live Large
— Gerry Bartlett, Real Vampires Live Large
Dear DiaryWent out shopping today. Picked up half a dozen sheep, two pigs, and a princess. The sheep are rather depressingly thin, the pigs and princess only slightly less so. Dear DiaryWent out shopping today. Picked up half a dozen sheep, two pigs, and a princess. The sheep are rather depressingly thin, the pigs and princess only slightly less so.
— Tad Williams
The part of her that should have been disgusted was numb.
— Fuyumi Ono, The Twelve Kingdoms: Sea of Shadow
Thus Arthur achieved the adventure of the sword that day and entered into his birthright of royalty. Wherefore, may God grant His Grace unto you all that ye too may likewise succeed in your undertakings. For any man may be a king in that life in which he is placed if so he may draw forth the sword of success from out of the iron of circumstance. Wherefore when your time of assay cometh, I do hope it may be with you as it was with Arthur that day, and that ye too may achieve success with entire satisfaction unto yourself and to your great glory and perfect happiness.
— Howard Pyle
He remembered believing there had been a time when monsters roamed the earth. The brave hearted fought flesh-and-blood dragons instead of shadowboxing their inner demons, the sport of modern man.
— Katherine Starbird, Reenie Gyse
What am I to you?’Sophiel smiled. ‘The sun. You are my sun, like Astrid said. My sun, that lights up my life. That looks after me with its fiery rays. I only have to turn towards it for it to set fire to my heart.
— A.O. Esther, Breath of Darkness
Sometimes our fantasies are better than our realities.
— Jenna Alatari
Guerilla warfare? I was in way over my head. I told myself that I could do this. It was guerilla warfare every time I went to sleep.
— Laura Thalassa, The Vanishing Girl
She couldn't live in denial of her own humanity.
— Fuyumi Ono, The Twelve Kingdoms: Sea of Shadow
Behind every legendary monster, there is an unknown tragedy.
— Julie Deshtor
[Charles] Nodier’s later view was that fantasy reconciles men to their fate. Fantasy and the taste for chimeras, he wrote, are symptoms of a time of political decay and transition, when the unpleasant realities of political life are too hard to bear. They serve a useful purpose in that they give men hope when scepticism and disillusion would otherwise drive them to despair.
— Peter Partner, The Murdered Magicians
I lied to you,’ she said, hanging her head in shame, ‘more than once. In fact, I swore that my lies were truth. I can’t understand how it could have happened. It just came out of my mouth and by the time I realised what I'd done, it was too late. ‘It’s never too late to realise that you were mistaken, Sophiel.
— A.O. Esther, Breath of Darkness
Humans need fantasy to be human.
— Terry Pratchett
The world isn’t big enough for all of us.
— S.R. Crawford, No Secrets: Eternity series
You can never trust a Vampire, child.
— S.R. Crawford, No Secrets: Eternity series
What do you want?"To see the world burn, and a new one be born from the ashes…
— S.R. Crawford, No Secrets: Eternity series
The flames of their passion illuminated the dimly lit room, filling it with a blazing fire which was either brilliantly beautiful or dangerously violent.
— S.R. Crawford, No Secrets: Eternity series
pulling a great substance from a higher height whilst leaning on a slippery ground with the mentality of having the substance whilst standing is a thought of fantasy. You may only result in falling with the substance
— Ernest Agyemang Yeboah
You think your children are better than mine? Ha! When yours were out playing with gold, mine were out fighting for survival. You taught your children to roll in money when I taught mine what it means to be strong.
— S.R. Crawford, No Secrets: Eternity series
Besides, men aren’t worth your time anyway, Letti. If we women spent as much time on ourselves as we do fretting over men, we’d be invincible! Work on yourself because at the end of the day, you’re the only person you can trust.
— S.R. Crawford
How dare you come into my home? And hurt my family? I ought to tear your throat out right here, right now!
— S.R. Crawford, No Secrets: Eternity series
Whoever is messing with my daughter, messing with my home, will be sorry they chose to play this game. I’ll be screaming checkmate before they even realise I moved my pawns…
— S.R. Crawford, No Secrets: Eternity series
Just always remember to listen to your heart’s song…it will keep you alive
— S.R. Crawford, No Secrets: Eternity series
…I bet I’ll haunt your dreams tonight. I just wan’ed to paint a picture in your head. I wan’ed you to see me as the monster I can often be. You see, you are what you allow people to know ‘bout you. Truth or lies or some combination of the two, is what makes you who you are. So, you don’t know me yet. But what I need you to know about me for now, is that I can’t be trusted.
— S.R. Crawford, No Secrets: Eternity series
We all know what’s coming. The winds are picking up, spiralling closer and bringing with it a great wave of destruction…none of us can hide…no matter which side you choose, you’ll be dragged into the line of fire and who’s to say, my friend, which of us will come out alive?
— S.R. Crawford, No Secrets: Eternity series
Just because we’re adults doesn’t mean we should grow up! The world’s a playground for us, Melody, and I for one intend to play!
— S.R. Crawford, No Secrets: Eternity series
I know you’re scared, Letti, but sweetheart…you haven’t seen anything yet. You’ve not known true fear...
— S.R. Crawford, No Secrets: Eternity series
The minute grains of sand slipped silently down the curved hourglass, no matter how many times the people of Earth willed them not to. Time, fate and the actions of others were out of their control.
— S.R. Crawford, No Secrets: Eternity series
In an ideal world, he’d simply scrape the surface of his bottomless courage, carelessly slip off his horse, scratch his massive balls, and then stroll over to the Lair in his own good time. But this wasn’t an ideal world, Rawley’s courage reservoir was barely a puddle, and at that particular moment he had precious little below the belt worth scratching!
— Aaron D'Este, Weapon of Choice
The thing I can’t figure out,” Axel turned to gaze directly at the gorgeous Elf. “Is how we got drawn into this mess? A week ago we were just boys, bumbling about in our last year of study, and now we’re in the midst of events that will change the course of Alba’s future! How did that happen?” He tossed his hands in the air and shook his head. “These are our parents’ battles. This is our parents’ world. They’re supposed to hand over something valuable and precious, not suck us into a scarred and shattered wreck!”Carolyn struggled to maintain her composure. She bit her bottom lip until it quivered in pain. “I don’t know how it happened,” she whispered, shaking her head, feeling guilty and tortured and evil and awful. “It’s not fair though.”“Well, we’re in the game now,” said Axel, as he stared down at the deadly black blade. “And heaven help all those who stand in our way.
— Aaron D'Este, Weapon of Choice
The sun was late, stuck in heavy mist. When it finally broke free there was no one to see, no one to applaud its sterling effort, because everyone in Freemantle was heading west. The burnt orange blaze of dawn made it look like they were fleeing a fire, but all knew that the real conflagration lay ahead.
— Aaron D'Este, Weapon of Choice
Tristan turned to face the Talon crowd and placed one hand on his own chest, “Our parents think that ‘compromise’ is a dirty word, a sign of weakness and neglect. They choose combat over concession every time. They fight for the sake of fighting because in their world,” and now he pointed out of the room into the distance, “every disagreement has to have a winner and a loser; life can never be a draw.
— Aaron D'Este, Weapon of Choice
Mick reached backwards without breaking eye contact and ran his hand across the door behind him, “See this?” he said. “This is my door. And no-one is touching my door today.” He shook his head slowly as if the issue wasn’t even up for debate.Surle said nothing, just stared.Mick swung his sword lazily, pointing towards the floor between himself and the infamous Marshal, “See this floor here? This floor is my porch,” he said. “And no-one is welcome on my porch today, especially you.”Still nothing from Surle, just silence.“So why don’t you just sod off like a good little lackey?
— Aaron D'Este, Weapon of Choice
Rotten, dirty, back-slapping, wine-quaffing, haemorrhoid-hosting, goat-shagging, fart-sniffing, Crispin-loving, gold-snatching bastards!!!
— Aaron D'Este, Weapon of Choice
Jeffers stretched up on his toes to see the back of the mob, “But James, we’re doing all this for you... We need this gold to build a united Alba. We need it to fund an army and to forge decisive leadership.” His voice was almost plaintive. “We want to hand your generation a real empire rather than just a loose collection of competing Families. We want to give you the foundations to achieve glory! What could possibly be wrong with that?”“Rubbish!” cried Tristan, not about to let honey-coated nonsense dissolve the glue that bound his army. “Absolute codswallop!” he let his calm facade slip for the first time that day. “What you’re actually trying to do is to build a legacy that you don’t deserve! You want to swan around as an armchair General for the next twenty years while your precious army strives and dies for hollow victories that do nothing more than feed your ego! And do you know who strives and dies in this picture?” He waved one arm at the figures behind him. “We do! We here in this alley, along with other young men and women just like us!”Tristan watched Jeffers from the corner of his eye, as he shook his fist towards deGroot, “Well we’re not having it! If you want us to fight and die, then we’re going to fight now, and we’re going to fight you! So come on down deGroot and take a swing!
— Aaron D'Este, Weapon of Choice