Na Fantasy Quotes
The thing to remember when you're writing is, it's not whether or not what you put on paper is true. It's whether it wakes a truth in your reader.
Cery: So, Hem, tell me why I shouldn't see how many holes I need to make before you start leaking money?
Sarcasm, as it turned out--even when it was instinctive and quick--cut into the time one had to manufacture one's escape.
So in the sweltering heat of a July night, I sang a Christmas carol to a room full of fae, who had been driven out of their homelands by Christians and their cold-iron swords.
I saw you, and I wanted to be close to you. I wanted you to let me in. I wanted to know you in a way no one else did. I wanted you, all of you.
The telephone bell was ringing wildly, but without result, since there was no-one in the room but the corpse.
At home, when the heating pipes made noises, I imagined a tiny person was in there skipping with a rope. The fantasy world of tiny things became my escape.
I looked at an angel today, but the angel could not see me. The angel was more amazing than beautiful, like the best forgotten dream.
It is good for children to find themselves facing the elements of a fairy tale - they are well-equipped to deal with these
I wish that I could fly into the sky and touch the clouds with my hands.
I glanced at Derek. The boy wonder didn't melt into a pile of goo, although his gaze was glued to Rowena's chest. Avoiding eye contact. Good strategy.
Assassination is an art, milord. And I am the city's most accomplished artist.
Fancies are like shadows...you can't cage them, they're such wayward, dancing things.
How dare the embodiment of her worst nightmare come packaged as her hottest fantasy?
Something ... made him feel small, not in the way of orphans or beggars or children, but in a good way. In the way of souls.
Only yesterday a young woman came to me wanting a trap set for a man with a sweet smile and lithe arms. She was a fool, not for wanting him, but for wanting more of him than that.
His dad said even the cavemen had geniuses among them. Somebody had thought up the wheel.
There are certain half-dreaming moods of mind in which we naturally steal away from noise and glare, and seek some quiet haunt where we may indulge our reveries and build our air castles undisturbed.
But I don't think Art's an Einstein - he likes tugging ears, biting people and burping too much to be a genius.
Edward smiled, I smiled, even Bernardo smiled. Olaf just looked sinister.
But think of how much worse it would be to sit here, not knowing. Until the Dead choke the Ratterlin and Hedge walks across the dry bed of the river to batter down the door.
Everything burns if the flame is hot enough. The world is nothing but a crucible.
Science fiction makes the implausible possible, while science fantasy makes the impossible plausible.
But if what interests you are stories of the fantastic, I must warn you that this kind of story demands more art and judgment than is ordinarily imagined.
You can't believe everything people tell you - not even if those people are your own brain.
There has always been, for me, this other world, this second world to fall back on--a more reliable world in so far as it does not hide that its premise is illusion.
Yes - 90% of fantasy is crap. And so is 90% of science fiction and 90% of mystery fiction and 90% of literary fiction.
The sound of the pages turning was the sound of magic. The dry liquid feel of paper under fingertips was what magic felt like.
Does it make you brave to stick your hand in a bear's mouth? Would you do it again just because you didn't die?
Part of the particular interest and beauty of science fiction and fantasy: writer and reader collaborate in world-making.
In Republican fantasy world, everything is always Obama's fault. Somehow, he's weak and he's ineffective, and yet he pulls the strings on everything in the world.
We don't need fantasy to mess with our minds to the point of rendering us insane - real life horrors do that already.
If the melody is telling me this is what the song is about, then I'm sort of forced into confession, autobiography or fantasy. If I don't do that, I've hamstrung the melody.
