Fantasy
Quotes - There's a time and place for everything
“When
you compare the sorrows of real life to the pleasures of the imaginary one, you
will never want to live again, only to dream forever.”
―
Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo
“Fairies
have to be one thing or the other, because being so small they unfortunately
have room for one feeling only at a time.”
―
J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan
“There's
a time and place for everything, and I believe it’s called 'fan fiction'.”
―
Joss Whedon
“Lovers
and madmen have such seething brains,
Such
shaping fantasies, that apprehend
More
than cool reason ever comprehends.
The
lunatic, the lover and the poet
Are
of imagination all compact:
One
sees more devils than vast hell can hold,
That
is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic,
Sees
Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt:
The
poet's eye, in fine frenzy rolling,
Doth
glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;
And
as imagination bodies forth
The
forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns
them to shapes and gives to airy nothing
A
local habitation and a name.”
―
Shakespeare William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream
“Happiness.
It was the place where passion, with all its dazzle and drumbeat, met something
softer: homecoming and safety and pure sunbeam comfort. It was all those
things, intertwined with the heat and the thrill, and it was as bright within
her as a swallowed star.”
―
Laini Taylor, Daughter of Smoke & Bone
“Which
is the greater sin? To care too much? Or too little?”
― K.
Ritz, Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master
“Whither
be the heart of Justice?
Lo, in stone, child. Lo, in stone.
Whither be the heart of Justice?
Lo, tis fast in stone.”
― K.
Ritz, Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master
“Buying
loyalty can be as effective as fear when one’s rival is poorer than oneself.”
― K.
Ritz, Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master
“Looking
back, I guess I used to play-act all the time. For one thing, it meant I could
live in a more interesting world than the one around me.”
―
Marilyn Monroe
“Gossip is like thread wound over a spindle of truth,
changing its shape.”
― K.
Ritz, Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master
“At
what point does faith become insanity?”
― K.
Ritz, Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master
“If
one does not react to gossip, the informer hushes more quickly.”
― K.
Ritz, Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master
“Mead.
O
sweet elixir,
Ye
bless the lips and steal the wits.”
“Snake
Street is an area I should avoid. Yet that night I was drawn there as surely as
if I had an appointment.
The
Snake House is shabby on the outside to hide the wealth within. Everyone knows
of the wealth, but facades, like the park’s wall, must be maintained. A lantern
hung from the porch eaves. A sign, written in Utte, read ‘Kinship of the
Serpent’. I stared at that sign, at that porch, at the door with its twisted
handle, and wondered what the people inside would do if I entered. Would they
remember me? Greet me as Kin? Or drive me out and curse me for faking my
death? Worse, would they expect me to
redon the life I’ve shed? Staring at that sign, I pissed in the street like the
Mearan savage I’ve become.
As I
started to leave, I saw a woman sitting in the gutter. Her lamp attracted me. A
memsa’s lamp, three tiny flames to signify the Holy Trinity of Faith, Purity,
and Knowledge. The woman wasn’t a memsa.
Her young face was bruised and a gash on her throat had bloodied her clothing.
Had she not been calmly assessing me, I would have believed the wound to be
mortal. I offered her a copper.
She
refused, “I take naught for naught,” and began to remove trinkets from a cloth
bag, displaying them for sale.
Her
Utte accent had been enough to earn my coin. But to assuage her pride I
commented on each of her worthless treasures, fighting the urge to speak Utte.
(I spoke Universal with the accent of an upper class Mearan though I wondered
if she had seen me wetting the cobblestones like a shameless commoner.) After
she had arranged her wares, she looked up at me. “What do you desire, O Noble
Born?”
I
laughed, certain now that she had seen my act in front of the Snake House and,
letting my accent match the coarseness of my dress, I again offered the copper.
“Nay, Noble One. You must choose.” She lifted
a strand of red beads. “These to adorn your lady’s bosom?”
I shook my head. I wanted her lamp.
But to steal the light from this woman ... I couldn’t ask for it. She reached
into her bag once more and withdrew a book, leather-bound, the pages gilded on
the edges. “Be this worthy of desire, Noble Born?”
I stood stunned a moment, then touched the
crescent stamped into the leather and asked if she’d stolen the book. She
denied it. I’ve had the Training; she spoke truth. Yet how could she have come
by a book bearing the Royal Seal of the Haesyl Line? I opened it. The pages
were blank.
“Take
it,” she urged. “Record your deeds for study. Lo, the steps of your life mark
the journey of your soul.”
I told her I couldn’t afford the book, but
she smiled as if poverty were a blessing and said, “The price be one copper.
Tis a wee price for salvation, Noble One.”
So I bought this journal. I hide it under my
mattress. When I lie awake at night, I feel the journal beneath my back and
think of the woman who sold it to me. Damn her. She plagues my soul. I promised
to return the next night, but I didn’t. I promised to record my deeds. But I
can’t. The price is too high.”
― K.
Ritz, Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master
“Sometimes
we seek that which we are not yet ready to find.”
―
Libba Bray, Rebel Angels
“I
think you’re a fairy tale. I think you’re magical, and brave, and exquisite.
And I hope you'll let me be in your story.”
―
Laini Taylor, Strange the Dreamer
