Lucinda The Fairy Quotes

Instead of making me docile, Lucinda's curse made a rebel of me. Or perhaps I was that way naturally. ~ Gail Carson Levine

Never interrupt a faerie circle ceremony. And, if a faerie has appeared to you, visually, do not speak to it until it has spoken to you. These two transgressions are considered so rude, that the faeries may literally attack you, on the spot. ~ Alexei Maxim Russell

He did something so un-Pucklike, Sabrina couldn't believe it. He got up sat behind her, and let his enormous fairy wings sprout from his back. Then he wrapped them around her to keep the bitter cold away. It was the first truly nice thing the so-called Trickster King had ever done for her. ~ Michael Buckley

The feeling that your daughter is a deviant already and will only get worse. In a flash, you can see her as a feral adolescent, as a dirty-bomb teenager, a burst of invisible and spreading fury. Where is she now? She's fled, not to her room but somewhere else, a closet, she always hides somewhere disturbing, a place befitting a German fairy tale. Believe ~ Dave Eggers

The perfect word for the December month is fairy tale. ~ Alexandra Vasiliu

Anyway, it's unthinkable! Dragons and knights are born enemies. They need to be enemies just like dogs hate cats, cats hate mice and mice hate scientists. Without somebody to hate where would all the hate go? The hate would just boil up inside you, eat away and cause you to have indigestion then a heart attack. We need to release the anger, and we release it on dragons who release it back on us. We slay them and they roast us. It is the natural order of things, Emma. ~ Elias Zapple

I wanted to find something of the beauty of myth that we've left behind, carry its shreds before us all, so we could acknowledge it, somehow bring it back to life. I wanted to delve back into that world that cradled us when we were young enough to still touch it, when trolls lived under creek bridges, faeries fluttered under mushroom caps, and the Tooth Fairy only came once you were truly sleeping. I wanted to see if enchantment was somehow still there, simply waiting to be reached. When I felt my loss, I realized that if I could do anything in this life, I wanted to travel he world, searching for those who were still awake in that old dreamtime, and listen to their stories – because I had to know that there were grownups out there who still believed that life could be magical.
And in that moment I decided: I am going to find the goddamn faeries. ~ Signe Pike

N equally basic passion of mine ab initio was for myth (not allegory!) and for fairy-story, and above all for heroic legend on the brink of fairy-tale and history, of which there is far too little in the world (accessible to me) for my appetite ... ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

Unlike Reaper's story, this was no fairy tale. He didn't get the girl in the end.
Roux was out of his reach for good now. ~ V. Theia

Do not laugh! But once upon a time (my crest has long since fallen) I had a mind to make a body of more or less connected legend, ranging from the large and cosmogonic, to the level of romantic fairy-story – the larger founded on the lesser in contact with the earth, the lesser drawing splendour from the vast backcloths – which I could dedicate simply to: to England; to my country. It should possess the tone and quality that I desired, somewhat cool and clear, be redolent of our 'air' (the clime and soil of the North West, meaning Britain and the hither parts of Europe: not Italy or the Aegean, still less the East), and, while possessing (if I could achieve it) the fair elusive beauty that some call Celtic (though it is rarely found in genuine ancient Celtic things), it should be 'high', purged of the gross, and fit for the more adult mind of a land long now steeped in poetry. I would draw some of the great tales in fullness, and leave many only placed in the scheme, and sketched. The cycles should be linked to a majestic whole, and yet leave scope for other minds and hands, wielding paint and music and drama. Absurd.

Of course, such an overweening purpose did not develop all at once. The mere stories were the thing. They arose in my mind as 'given' things, and as they came, separately, so too the links grew. An absorbing, though continually interrupted labour (especially since, even apart from the necessities of life, the mind would wing to the other pole and spen ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

Beneath our feet a fairy pathway flows, The grass still glitters in the summer breeze, The dusky wood, and distant copse appear, And that lone stream, upon whose chequer'd face We mused, when noon-rays made the pebbles gleam, Is mirror'd to the mind: though all around Be rattling hoofs and roaring wheels, the eye Is wand'ring where the heart delights to dwell. ~ Robert Montgomery

My heart beats more for a raw, average vulgar art, which doesn't live between sleepy fairy-tale moods and poetry but rather concedes a direct entrance to the fearful, commonplace, splendid and the average grotesque banality in life. ~ Max Beckmann

Thy loving smile will surely hail
The love-gift of a fairy tale. ~ Lewis Carroll

Just remember," he said. "Maybe these guys are nice, and the ants are mean. But that doesn't mean their fairy tales are true. ~ Robert Repino

As for fairy tales, he understood that they were reflections of the people who had spun them, and were flecked with little truths - intrusions of reality into fantasy, like toast crumbs on a wizard's beard. ~ Laini Taylor

Here's the thing, people: We have some serious problems. The lights are off. And it seems like that's affecting the water flow in part of town. So, no baths or showers, okay? But the situation is that we think Caine is short of food, which means he's not going to be able to hold out very long at the power plant."
"How long?" someone yelled.
Sam shook his head. "I don't know."
"Why can't you get him to leave?"
"Because I can't, that's why," Sam snapped, letting some of his anger show. "Because I'm not Superman, all right? Look, he's inside the plant. The walls are thick. He has guns, he has Jack, he has Drake, and he has his own powers. I can't get him out of there without getting some of our people killed. Anybody want to volunteer for that?"
Silence.
"Yeah, I thought so. I can't get you people to show up and pick melons, let alone throw down with Drake."
"That's your job," Zil said.
"Oh, I see," Sam said. The resentment he'd held in now came boiling to the surface. "It's my job to pick the fruit, and collect the trash, and ration the food, and catch Hunter, and stop Caine, and settle every stupid little fight, and make sure kids get a visit from the Tooth Fairy. What's your job, Zil? Oh, right: you spray hateful graffiti. Thanks for taking care of that, I don't know how we'd ever manage without you."
"Sam…," Astrid said, just loud enough for him to hear. A warning.
Too late. He was going to say what needed saying.
"And t ~ Michael Grant

Once upon a time there was a great queen who, having given birth to twin daughters, invited twelve fairies who lived nearby to come and bestow gifts upon them, as was the custom in those days. Indeed, it was a very useful custom, for the power of the fairies generally compensated for the deficiencies of nature. Sometimes, however, they also spoiled what nature had done its best to make perfect, as we shall soon see.

("Green Serpent") ~ Marie-Catherine D'Aulnoy

The woman looked at her heart in all of its fragments. Its voice was clear and true as it reminded her of the injustices done to it. Nothing so forlorn and broken could lie to her - could it? However, the woman was not a rational woman, and did not heed the beings' warning. "Strip my humanity away, that I may never again walk in the race of men," was her one wish. ~ Esther Dalseno

A flower can't choose the place where it blooms, and a child can't choose the parents she's born to ~ Hiro Mashima

His hands lay flat on either side of him, his arms at his sides. He seemed barely to be breathing; she wasn't sure she was breathing herself. She slid her own hand across the bedsheet, just far enough that their fingers touched-so lightly that she would have probably hardly been aware of it had she been touching anyone but Jace; as it was, the nerve endings in her fingertips pricked softly, as if she were holding them over a low flame. She felt him tense beside her and then relax. He had shut his eyes, and his lashes cast fine shadows against the curve of his cheekbones. His mouth curled into a smile as if he sensed her watching him, and she wondered how he would look in the morning, with his hair messed and sleep circles under his eyes. Despite everything, the thought gave her a jolt of happiness.
She laced her fingers through his. "Good night," she whispered. With their hands clasped like children in a fairy tale, she fell asleep beside him in the dark. ~ Cassandra Clare

She held a scarlet sequin dress to her chest and posed in front of a mirror. Too hot. She put it back and took a black mini. Too dreary. Then a blue as pale as a whisper caught her eye. She took the dress. The material was silky and clinging. Perfect for a goddess. On the floor below the dress sat scrappy wraparound high-heeled sandals that matched the blue.
She didn't understand why she needed to dress up to meet Stanton but the impulse to steal into the storage room had been rising in her since the sun set.
She took the dress and sandals back to her room, then sat on the floor and painted her toenails and fingernails pale blue. She drew waves of eternal flames and spiral hearts in silver and blue around her ankles and up her legs with body paints.
When she was done, she pressed a Q-tip into glitter eye shadow and spread sparkles on her lid and below her eye. With a sudden impulse she swirled the lines over her temple and into her hairline. She liked the look.
She rolled blue mascara on her lashes, then brushed her hair and snapped crystals in the long blond strands. She squeezed glitter lotion into her palms and rubbed it on her shoulders and arms. Last she took the dress and stepped into it. She turned to the mirror on the closet door.
A thrill ran through her. Her reflection astonished her. She looked otherworldly, a mystical creature... eyes large, skin glowing, eyelashes longer, thicker. Everything about her was more powerful and sleek and fairy ~ Lynne Ewing

I won't run, I will stand and look ahead to what I must do, I must face the fear, I won't let it control me anymore, I will use my heart that holds my courage and my bravery to move me forward to what I must do. ~ Gray Fullbuster

Do you know where Blue is? Can you get him for me? Please?"
"Frederick," Bliss said. "Do you always bring a sword to a pool party? You are familiar with the concept of rust, I hope."
"I - yes, of course," Freddie said, looking as if he wasn't sure whom to answer first, but deferring to the fairy out of respect for his magical elders. "I have it in case there's trouble, and I need to decapitate Fel - er, someone. Anyone, rather. Anyone in need of decapitation."
"Frederick, that is very disturbing," Bliss said. "I do hope you're joking."
"Where's Blue?" Mira shouted. ~ Sarah Cross

Hammer does not think he will make it through this next winter. His breath comes short in his chest, and it takes much effort for him to get up and dressed. My body is still creaky and sound, but with every labor of his breath, I think that my heart will not endure. Enduring were Hammer's gift, not mine, and I will not endure a life in which he does not laugh by my side and touch my hand, wish for the best things for me, and rejoice when I have them. My sturdy, blessed, stoic Hammer - how can life be, without him? ~ Amy Lane

The fairy tale is accused of giving children a false impression of the world they live in. But I think no literature that children could read gives them less of a false impression. I think what profess to be realistic stories for children are far more likely to deceive them. I never expected the real world to be like the fairy tales. I think that I did expect school to be like the school stories. The fantasies did not deceive me: the school stories did. All stories in which children have adventures and successes which are possible, in the sense that they do not break the laws of nature, but almost infinitely improbable, are in more danger than the fairy tales of raising false expectations…

This distinction holds for adult reading too. The dangerous fantasy is always superficially realistic. The real victim of wishful reverie does not batten on the Odyssey, The Tempest, or The Worm Ouroboros: he (or she) prefers stories about millionaires, irresistible beauties, posh hotels, palm beaches and bedroom scenes - things that really might happen, that ought to happen, that would have happened if the reader had had a fair chance. For, as I say, there are two kinds of longing. The one is an askesis, a spiritual exercise, and the other is a disease. ~ C.S. Lewis

The truth is that when one is still a child-or even if one is grown up- and has been well fed, and has slept long and softly and warm; when one has gone to sleep in the midst of a fairy story, and has wakened to find it real, one cannot be unhappy or even look as if one were; and one could not, if one tried, keep a glow of joy out of one's eyes. ~ Frances Hodgson Burnett

You cannot make a social-conscious picture in which you say that the intermediary between the hand and the brain is the heart. I mean, that's a fairy tale - definitely. ~ Fritz Lang

And a variety of more colorful names. Hypothetically." The privateer cast him an assessing glance. "Just how did you know I wasn't who I claimed to be, Mister Brekker?"
Kaz shrugged. "You speak Kerch like a native - a rich native. You don't talk like someone who came up with sailors and street thugs."
The privateer turned slightly, giving Kaz his full attention. His ease was gone, and now he looked like a man who might command armies. "Mister Brekker," he said. "Kaz, if I may? I am in a vulnerable position. I am a king ruling a country with an empty treasury, facing enemies on all sides. There are also forces within my country that might seize any absence as an opportunity to make their own bid for power."
"So you're saying you'd make an excellent hostage."
"I suspect that the ransom for me would be considerably less than the price Kuwei has on his head. Really, it's a bit of a blow to my self-esteem."
"You don't seem to be suffering," said Kaz.
"Sturmhond was a creation of my youth, and his reputation still serves me well. I cannot bid on Kuwei Yul-Bo as the king of Ravka. I hope your plan will play out the way you think it will. But if it doesn't, the loss of such a prize would be seen as a humiliating blunder diplomatically and strategically. I enter that auction as Sturmhond or as no one at all. If that is a problem - "
Kaz settled his hands on his cane. "As long as you don't try to con me, you can enter as the Fairy Queen of Istame ~ Leigh Bardugo

Matters are very seldom all black or white. They can even be both at the same time - The Beer Fairy ~ Tom Robbins

I would rather face the devil himself than that man," Elizabeth said with a repressed shudder.
"I daresay," Lucinda agreed, clutching her umbrella with one hand and the side of the cart with her other.
The nearer the time came, the more angry and confused Elizabeth became about this meeting. For the first four days of their journey, her tension had been greatly allayed by the scenic grandeur of Scotland with its rolling hills and deep valleys carpeted in bluebells and hawthorne. Now, however, as the hour of confronting him drew near, not even the sight of the mountains decked out in spring flowers or the bright blue lakes below could calm her mounting tension. "Furthermore, I cannot believe he has the slightest desire to see me."
"We shall soon find out."
In the hills above the high, winding track that passed for a road, a shepherd paused to gape at an old wooden wagon making its laborious way along the road below. "Lookee there, Will," he told his brother. "Do you see what I see?"
The brother looked down and gaped, his lips parting in a toothless grin of glee at the comical sight of two ladies-bonnets, gloves, and all-who were perched primly and precariously on the back of Sean MacLaesh's haywagon, their backs ramrod-stiff, their feet sticking straight out beyond the wagon.
"Don't that beat all," Will laughed, and high above the haywagon he swept off his cap in a mocking salute to the ladies. "I heered in the village Ian Thornton was acomin' ho ~ Judith McNaught

I want to believe in the fairy tale. ~ Monica Murphy

Things are really fucked up right now. We hardly see each other anymore and when we do, we go to sleep on opposite sides of the bed ~ Lucinda Rosenfeld

Think of every fairy-tale villainess you've ever heard of. Think of the wicked witches, the evil queens, the mad enchantresses. Think of the alluring sirens, the hungry ogresses, the savage she-beasts. Think of them and remember that somewhere, sometime, they've all been real.
Mab gave them lessons. ~ Jim Butcher