Quotes about faery

For it is a true fact that faeries, just like people, very often find that a full belly and a good friend are all that they need to be happy.

If you're still hungry, I could probably find some nice roots by the riverbank we passed," Mick teased. "Mind you, some of them insist on yodeling while you eat them, but you get used to that after a while.

My brother, are you aware that you are presently taking the form of a rather large and distinctly emerald-hued bear? Not that it isn't an improvement on your usual excessive good lucks, but...

She loves the serene brutality of the ocean, loves the electric power she felt with each breath of wet, briny air.

And there, on that road, that very minute, he started to play - the most lonesome music that them priests ever in their lives heard. It brought water out o' their teeth, so it did.

This letter is written on the skin of one of the water sprites who drowned your parents.''Ick!' I cried, and dropped the letter on the kitchen table.

Who're them?" says he to the curate."Them are the fallen angels," says the c

By the Hospital Lane goes the 'Faeries Path.' Every evening they travel from the hill to the sea, from the sea to the hill. At the sea end of their path stands a cottage. One night Mrs. Arbunathy, who lived there, left her door open, as she was expecting her son. Her husband was asleep by the fire; a tall man came in and sat beside him. After he had been sitting there for a while, the woman said, 'In the name of God, who are you?' He got up and went out, saying, 'Never leave the door open at thi

When he kisses me again, the last part of me that could stand myself dies.

He wanted a faery. More than anything else in the world. He had already imagined exactly how it should happen. He would set up the invitation, and the next day there would be a petal-winged pisky clinging to the top of his bedpost. It would have a foolish grin on its face, and large ears, and it wouldn’t notice at all that Bartholomew was small and ugly and different from everyone else. But no. Mother had to ruin everything.

It's the shape of the stories that matters, the way belief forms around it. The story has real weight', He pointed at himself. 'Patupaiarehe look like monsters in some stories, but they're beautiful in a lot. I guess people believed more in the beautiful version. And the ideal of beauty changes. If I'd been born two hundred years ago, I bet I wouldn't look like this. The stories shaped me. They shape everyone, inside and out, but me more than most, because I'm magic.

Welcome to the house of Gray and Graves where we never lie still and death is only the beginning ...

Why, you'll be 'changed, m'dear. We'll just swap you for a human child who'll make a good servant to the Band. Half Humans never work out 'mongst the Folk. No, never do.""But--I'm half Folk too... What if I never work out 'mongst the humans?""Aye, you're neither one thing nor yet quite t'other. Pity, but there 'tis.

Of course the fall semester didn’t start for another eight weeks or so. There was always a chance we were both being overly optimistic in thinking I’d be alive when it rolled around.

He remembered an old tale which his father was fond of telling him—the story of Eos Amherawdur (the Emperor Nightingale). Very long ago, the story began, the greatest and the finest court in all the realms of faery was the court of the Emperor Eos, who was above all the kings of the Tylwydd Têg, as the Emperor of Rome is head over all the kings of the earth. So that even Gwyn ap Nudd, whom they now call lord over all the fair folk of the Isle of Britain, was but the man of Eos, and no splendour

Humans need to learn the lesson of acceptance when things seem to go awry, know that this is only temporary, your flow of good is assured with acceptance, gratefulness, love and joy. - fairy quote

Down the hill I went, and then,I forgot the ways of men,For night-scents, heady and damp and coolWakened ecstasy

The creature which stood before me was no bigger than a child, yet I would have sworn she was wood nymph. With pointed ears, translucent skin and a halo of woodland flowers in her silvery hair, the small woman held a strange presence. Besides the creature's obvious beauty, I couldn't draw my gaze away from her magnificent opaque wings. They fluttered in the breeze like the leaves above us.

There was once a young man who wished to gain his Heart’s Desire.

He was walking into Faerie, in search of a fallen star, with no idea how he would find the star, nor how to keep himself safe and whole as he tried. He looked back and fancied that he could see the lights of Wall behind him, wavering and glimmering as if in a heat-haze, but still inviting.

I’ve told you that I’m a tricksy wight, and I am, my sweet. But there are those in the Seelie Court who would make me seem a very perfect knight.

Perhaps the so-called civilized world was a great noisy burden beneath all its wonders, and it was a relief to let go of it for a while.

Life is naught but battles big and small, and most of them unexpected.

Aye, well, it’s like a battle. Ya lay yer plans, then when they go wrong, ya make things up as ya go.

High to low, roof to floor, wall to wall, and door to door; Basement deep to sky above, fill this home with light and love.

Funny how being a grown-up didn’t make you any less glad to have a mom on the scene. Whether it was your own or someone else’s mother, it was like having the cavalry arrive.

To hold the Gift is to protect the balance in all things and to restore harmony. To hold the Gift is to comfort the mind and spirit, and to heal both heart and body. To hold the Gift is to be a bridge between worlds and to be a bearer of light.

Education and assimilation were devastatingly effective at controlling a conquered people.

There'll be no more music, Father. But there'll be this!" He stepped into the dark, picked up the knife, and held it under their noses. "Go home. Tell your people what you saw and heard here tonight. And tell 'em that anyone we catch on these roads after dark anymore... this is what they'll get. Now that I know we're never to see the face o' God, we have nothing to lose. So, make sure you have your message right, Father, 'cause there'll be no other warning.

Everybody says you have to decide between the head and the heart, but that’s just so much bullshit. Your heart and your head don’t know a damn thing between them when it comes to other people. Your head can know facts about them, sure—like a criminal record or a Purple Heart—but that’s about it. And your heart only knows how it feels and what it wants, not what the other person is feeling . . .

Kind of like CSI investigating a social error—Here’s the corpse of the situation, what do you think killed it?—with the hope of preventing further fatalities. Often as not, it boiled down to missed cues.

Sometimes the universe conspires to give you what you really want, Liam. And it’s your job to let it.

The faery lords are immortal. Those who have songs ballads and stories written about them never die. Belief worship imagination we were born of the dreams and fears of mortals and if we are remembered even in some small way we will always exist.

There are some doubters even in the western villages. One woman told me last Christmas that she did not believe either in hell or in ghosts. Hell she thought was merely an invention got up by the priest to keep people good; and ghosts would not be permitted, she held, to go 'trapsin about the earth' at their own free will; 'but there are faeries,' she added, 'and little leprechauns, and water-horses, and fallen angels.' I have met also a man with a mohawk Indian tattooed upon his arm, who held e

You, Faery Man, are wonderful.

WEST SALEM ~ October 2011A sudden vision, fraught with malevolence and darkness, obscured her sight. The face of a menacing figure turned from the shadows of his grisly handiwork and stared at Sorcha.Her muscles tensed. By the Goddess, could he see her?Please! No!She wanted to scream, to run, but the vision ensnared her into the horrific moment like a fly in a spider's web.

Touch her, and I'll freeze your testicles off and put them in a jar. Understand?

As cities grow and technology takes over the world belief and imagination fade away and so do we.

Science is all about proving theories and understanding the universe. Science folds everything into neat logical well-explained packages. The fey are magical capricious illogical and unexplainable. Science cannot prove the existence of faeries so naturally we do not exist. That type of nonbelief is fatal to faries.