“We rode for perhaps an hour with the snow tapping at our cheeks before we came to a little gully where the mountainside folded itself around a grove of misshapen willows. Even if the changeling hadn't directed us there, I would have taken it for a faerie door of some sort; though there are many sorts of doors, they all have a similar quality which can best---and quite inadequately---be described as unusual. A round ring of mushrooms is the obvious example, but one must additionally be on the lookout for large, hoary trees that dwarf their neighbors; for twisted trunks and gaping hollows; for wildflowers out of sync with the forest's floral denizens; for patterns of things; for mounds and depressions and inexplicable clearings. Anything that does not fit.”
Source: Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries
“Above us, the aurora was bleeding.
I stood frozen. The long ribbons of white unfurled all the way to the ground, growing filmier as they went. The green and blue of the aurora was unaffected. It was as if something were drawing the silvery whiteness to earth, like fingers pulling paint down a canvas, to a place just beyond the curve of the mountain---less than a mile away.”
Source: Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries
“Indeed, the door before us was nearly identical in shape and style--- it blended into the Greek countryside perfectly, its wooden boards painted with a scene of pale, pebbly stone and sun-dried vegetation. A little patch of rock roses to the left continued into the painting, and these two-dimensional blooms tossed their heads in the breeze in time with their tangible brethren. Even more impossible, to my mortal eyes, was the doorknob, a square of glass enclosing a splash of turquoise sea. This nexus is truly the most peculiar variety of faerie door I have encountered in my career.”
Source: Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales
“As we went on, I could not help but noticing that the path Wendell made for us was a much cheerier one than Ariadne and I had followed; we traversed sunny glades and bluebell meadows, and sections of bilberry-studded moor open to the sky, often boasting impressive standing stones. Silver baubles sparkled in the treetops, about the size of globes and light as air, which sometimes drifted from one tree to another with the wind. Wendell informed me that these were, in fact, a kind of faerie stone, which contained enchantments meant to provide comfort to travelers.”
Source: Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales
“In beauty lies hidden pain; in pain, hidden freedom.”
Source: The Sand People: a collection of magical realism and other stories
“He himself had been quite turbulent in his youth, but a combination of self-cultivation and suffering had changed that.”
Source: Tales from the Tao: The Wisdom of the Taoist Masters
“The Evening Primrose
Like a flower blooming
From an Evening Primrose,
They, too, shall die
In great sorrow.
For they only were loved
When they bloomed;
Yet every Gardener knows
You must love the plant
From seed to wilt.”
Source: The Grate
“She was wildfire; I was wind”
Source: Beneath The Veil Of Time: A poetry collection
“ما الذي يجعل الأطفال ينامون هكذا بعمق ؟
لأنه ليس لهم إلا حاضرهم .. لاماضي يندمون عليه و لا مستقبل يخافون منه”
Source: لحظات مسروقة
“It's funny. You take adults, they look lousy when they're asleep and they have their mouths way open, but kids don't. Kids look alright. They can even have spit all over the pillow and they still look alright.”
Source: THE CATCHER IN THE RYE