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Faerie Quotes

Browse 258 quotes about Faerie.

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Faerie Quotes

“Behind the abandoned house, two faerie horses chew on dandelions as they wait for their riders. Slight as deer, with a soft halo of light surrounding their bodies, they glide between the trees like ghosts. Oak goes to the first. Her coat a soft grey, her mane braided into something that looks like netting, and which is hung with gold beads. Tooled leather saddlebags rest against her flanks. She nuzzles into his hand.”

Holly BlackFaerieThe Stolen HeirSurenWrenHorsesOakOak GreenbriarMagical CreaturesFaerie Horses
Book:The Stolen Heir
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“At seventeen, he has grown tall, towering over me, lithe and finely muscled. His hair catches the moonlight, warm gold threaded with platinum, bangs parting around small goat horns, eyes of shocking amber, and a constellation of freckles across his nose. He has a trickster's mouth and the swagger of someone used to people doing what he wanted.”

AppearanceHolly BlackFaerieThe Stolen HeirSwaggerOakOak GreenbriarFrecklesHigh FaeTrickster
Book:The Stolen Heir
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“A young man with goat feet and horns, wearing a shirt of golden scale mail and holding a thing-bladed rapier, steps in the pool of light near a building. His face is expressionless, like someone in a dream. I note the curls of his tawny blond hair tucked behind his pointed ears, the garnet-coloured cloak tossed over wide shoulders, the scar along one side of his throat, a circlet at his brow. He moves as though he expects the world to bend to his will. ... His amber eyes are bright, like those of a fox, but there is nothing warm in them.”

Holly BlackFaerieThe Stolen HeirOakOak GreenbriarPrinceHigh FaeExpressionlessRapier
Book:The Stolen Heir
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“Some afternoons we sit in groves carpeted with emerald moss, and other evenings we spend in high towers or up in trees. We learn about the movements of constellations in the sky, the medicinal and magical properties of herbs, the language of birds and flowers and people as well as the language of the Folk (though it occasionally twists in my mouth), the composition of riddles, and how to walk soft-footed over leaves and brambles to leave neither trace nor sound. We are instructed in the finer points of the harp and the lute, the bow and the blade. Taryn and I watch them as they practice enchantments. For a break, we all play at war in a green field with a broad arc of trees.”

LessonsHolly BlackThe Folk Of The AirJude DuarteJudeFaerieThe Cruel PrinceTaryn DuarteTarynFaerie School
Book:The Cruel Prince
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“...every word, every breath was too loud, every smell too strong, the light too bright. Keeping still throughout it all was easier than moving, than adjusting to the strange, strong body that was now mine. I couldn't even touch my hair without the slight difference in my fingers jarring me. On and on, until every newly heightened sense was chafing and raw, and Tamlin at last noticed my dull eyes, my silence, and toom my arm.”

SensesSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronA Court Of Thorns And RosesTamlinFaerieStrugglingHigh FaeHeightened Senses
Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“She said he had seven times seven years before she claimed him, before he had to join her Under the Mountain. If he wanted to break her curse, he need only find a human girl willing to marry him. But not any girl- a human with ice in her heart, with hatred for our kind. A human girl willing to kill a faerie.' The ground rocked beneath me, and I was grateful for the wall I leaned against. 'Worse, the faerie she killed had to be one of his men, sent across the wall by him like lambs to slaughter. The girl could only be brought here to be courted if she killed one of his men in an unprovoked attack- killed him for hatred alone, just as Jurian had done to Clythia... So he could understand her sister's pain.' ... 'It was all a cruel joke, a clever punishment, to Amarantha. You humans loathe and fear faeries so much it would be impossible- impossible for the same girl who slaughtered a faerie in cold blood to them fall in love with one. But the spell on Tamlin could only be broken if she did just that before the forty-nine years were over- if that girl said to his face that she loved him, and meant it with her entire heart. Amarantha knows humans are preoccupied with beauty, and thus bound the masks to all of our faces, to his face, so it would be more difficult to find a girl willing to look beyond the mask, beyond his faerie nature, and to the soul beneath. Then she bound us so we couldn't say a word about the curse. Not a single word. We could hardly tell you a thing about our world, about our fate. He couldn't tell you- none of us properly could. The lies about the blight- that was the best he could do, the best we could all do. That I can tell you now... it means the game is over, to her.”

ImpossibleSarah J MaasCurseFeyreFeyre ArcheronA Court Of Thorns And RosesTamlinFaerieFall In LoveAlis
Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“It told a story with the way colours and shapes and light flowed, the way the tone shifted across the mural. The story of... of Prythian. It began with a cauldron. A mighty black cauldron held by glowing, slender female hands in a starry, endless night. Those hands tipped it over, golden sparkling liquid pouring out over the lip. No- not sparkling, but... effervescent with small symbols, perhaps of some ancient faerie language. Whatever was written there, whatever it was, the contents of the cauldron were dumped into the void below, pooling on the earth to form our world...”

CreatorSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronA Court Of Thorns And RosesFaerieFaeriesMuralCauldronPrythian
Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“I am Shiloh, whose box you stole. Your godmother's sickness lies in your own keeping, you can heal her in a moment. Make me your slave, and I must do your will.' 'You can do this,' Sheila said, 'without my taking a gift from you; you are wise and skilled. O do it, sir, and I will bless your name for ever.' 'Pooh! what is the good of that?' said he. 'No, I serve a master, the King of Kings, but we are emptiness itself without your mortal alloy. Do as I bid and I will serve you like a queen. And if you fear me you have only to put me to sleep and I shall sleep for seven hundred years.' 'No,' said the tempted girl slowly, 'not even for godmother can I do this; you are full of evil. Lies, lies! Why do you lie so?' 'O,' Shiloh said, 'because I am weary, and dissimulation is stimulation.' 'I don't understand that.' 'Well, it is so.' He yawned and yawned. 'Besides, I am the Other Side of things. All you think good may be bad, all you think bad may be good.' 'And I don't understand that.' Shiloh replied: 'Strong meat for men and lily buds for maids; did Ajax feed on apples?' 'I beg your pardon, sir,' said Sheila.”

FairyFaerieLeprechaunImpGood BadFayThe Bogey Man
Book:Dusky Ruth and Other Stories
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“The two other members of Dain's spy troupe also have code names. There's the lean, handsome faerie that looks at least part human, who winks and tells me to call him the Ghost. He has sandy-coloured hair, which is normal for a mortal, but is unusual for a faerie, and ears that come to very subtle points. The other is a tiny, delicate girl, her skin the dappled brown of a doe, her hair a cloud of white around her head, and a miniature pair of blue-grey butterfly wings on her back. She's got at least some pixie in her, if not some imp. ... 'I'm the Bomb,' she says. 'I like blowing things up.”

Holly BlackThe Folk Of The AirFaerieThe Cruel PrincePixieThe GhostImpThe BombGarrettThe Court Of Shadows
Book:The Cruel Prince
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“In the Land under the Hill, in the Time Before … Once upon a time, there was a beautiful lady of the Seelie Court who lost her heart to the son of an angel. Once upon a time, there were two boys come to the land of Faerie, brothers noble and bold. One brother caught a glimpse of the fair lady and, thunderstruck by her beauty, pledged himself to her. Pledged himself to stay. This was the boy Andrew. His brother, the boy Arthur, would not leave his side. And so the boys stayed beneath the hill, and Andrew loved the lady, and Arthur despised her. And so the lady kept her boy close to her side, kept this beautiful creature who swore his fealty to her, and when her sister lay claim to the other, the lady let him be taken away, for he was nothing. She gave Andrew a silver chain to wear around his neck, a token of her love, and she taught him the ways of the Fair Folk. She danced with him in revels beneath starry skies. She fed him moonshine and showed him how to give way to the wild. Some nights they heard Arthur’s screams, and she told him it was an animal in pain, and pain was in an animal’s nature. She did not lie, for she could not lie. Humans are animals. Pain is their nature. For seven years they lived in joy. She owned his heart, and he hers, and somewhere, beyond, Arthur screamed and screamed. Andrew didn’t know; the lady didn’t care; and so they were happy. Until the day one brother discovered the truth of the other. The lady thought her lover would go mad with the grief of it and the guilt. And so, because she loved the boy, she wove him a story of deceitful truths, the story he would want to believe. That he had been ensorcelled to love her; that he had never betrayed his brother; that he was only a slave; that these seven years of love had been a lie. The lady set the useless brother free and allowed him to believe he had freed himself. The lady subjected herself to the useless brother’s attack and allowed him to believe he had killed her. The lady let her lover renounce her and run away. And the lady beheld the secret fruits of their union and kissed them and tried to love them. But they were only a piece of her boy. She wanted all of him or none of him. As she had given him his story, she gave him his children. She had nothing left to live for, then, and so lived no longer. This is the story she left behind, the story her lover will never know; this is the story her daughter will never know. This is how a faerie loves: with her whole body and soul. This is how a faerie loves: with destruction. I love you, she told him, night after night, for seven years. Faeries cannot lie, and he knew that. I love you, he told her, night after night, for seven years. Humans can lie, and so she let him believe he lied to her, and she let his brother and his children believe it, and she died hoping they would believe it forever. This is how a faerie loves: with a gift.”

LoveFaerieSeelie QueenArthur Blackthorn
Book:Pale Kings and Princes
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“Looking back now, I wonder if I was observant enough. Certainly I was alert---I always am, during fieldwork---but I suspect that the unfamiliarity of the landscape, the high, dark mountains swaddled in snow, lulled me into a belief that no living thing could accost me here, certainly nothing fae, creatures I have spent my career associating with greenery and water and life. Fortunately, my reflexes are sharp. The instant the light flared through the trees, I halted and gripped my coin. It was a grayish light with no warmth in it, like a star. A wind moved through the trees, and there came a whisper of bells. Had I not been touching metal, I might have been bespelled, and as it was my head still spun a little, but I am used to brushing against faerie enchantments and stood my ground.”

PreparedFaerieObservantExperiencedEncountered
Book:Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries
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“Is this necessary?” I said, gesturing to the paint and clothing. “Of course,” he said coolly. “How else would I know if anyone touches you?” He approached, and I braced myself as he ran a finger along my shoulder, smearing the paint. As soon as his finger left my skin, the paint fixed itself, returning the design to its original form. “The dress itself won’t mar it, and neither will your movements,” he said, his face close to mine. His teeth were far too near to my throat. “And I’ll remember precisely where my hands have been. But if anyone else touches you—let’s say a certain High Lord who enjoys springtime—I’ll know.” He flicked my nose. “And, Feyre,” he added, his voice a caressing murmur, “I don’t like my belongings tampered with.”

PaintFeyreRhysandTouchFaerieDressHigh FaeHigh Lord
Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“Unglamoured, my skin is the pale blue-grey of hydrangea blooms, smeared with dirt along one cheek and across my nose. My hair is so woven with leaves and twigs and mud that it would be almost impossible to know that underneath it is an even darker blue. I have the same pointy chin I had when I thought I was mortal. A thin face, with large eyes, and an expression of startlement, as though I expect someone else when I look in the mirror. At least my eyes could pass for human. They're green, deep and dark. I smile a little to see the awfulness of my sharp teeth. A mouth full of knives. They make even the Folk flinch.”

AppearanceTeethHolly BlackFaeFaerieThe Stolen HeirSurenWrenBlue HairUnkempt
Book:The Stolen Heir
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“At the centre of the tent rests three thrones- two large and one small. They seem to be sculptures of ice, with flowers and leaves frozen inside them. The large thrones are unoccupied, but a blue-skinned girl sits on the small one, a crown of icicles on her head and a golden bridle around her mouth and throat. She looks to be only a year or two older than Oak and is dressed in a column of grey silk. Her gaze is on her fingers, which move restlessly against one another. Her nails are bitten short and crusted with a thin rime of blood.”

FantasyHolly BlackThronesThe Folk Of The AirFaerieSurenWrenThe Queen Of NothingCrownBridle
Book:The Queen of Nothing
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“A faerie crouched beside me. It was very small, its frame skeletal with a face full of teeth and two sharp black stones for eyes tucked beneath a ravenskin that it seemed to wear as a sort of cloak, but the skin had been poorly cleaned and the eyes were absent. It had all the substance of cobwebs and was both there and not there; viewed from certain angles, it was merely the shadow of a stone, and from others, a live raven. It was digging around in my pockets with fingernails the length again of its spindly arms and sharp enough to slit my throat without my noticing the injury immediately.”

AppearanceInvisibleFaerieMythical CreaturesOtherworldly
Book:Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries
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“Revelry isn't just the debauched pursuit of mindless, excessive--and often cruel-- pleasures as King Oberon and Titania have turned it into. It is supposed to be a place of art. No matter how seemingly frivolous, art can give a laugh, a light, a spark of pleasure relieves sorrow and uplifts the soul. It can tell truths and reach hearts better than dry, pedantic tomes. That's the true purpose of the Court of Revels.”

ArtTruthFaeFaerieOberonTitania
Book:Stolen Midsummer Bride
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“Let's assume it was probably internal fairy stuff. That cuts it down to three suspects." "Three?" "The three people who could have managed it. Summer Queen, Winter Queen, Winter Knight. 1, 2, 3." "Harry, I said it could have been one of the queens...." I blinked up at the skull. "There are more than two?" "Yea... technically there are three." "THREE?" "...In each court." THREE QUEENS? In each court?! That's just silly..." "No, not if you think about it. Each court has three queens. The queen who was, the queen who is, and the queen who is to come." "Greeeat.... Which one does the knight work for?" "All of them. It's kind of a group thing. He has different duties to each queen." I felt the headache start at the base of my neck and creep towards the base of my head.”

FaerieTitaniaSummer CourtWinter CourtFaerie CourtsFaerie LoreMabCourt Dynamics
Book:Summer Knight
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“The mountains I saw through the break in the fog were familiar, and yet something was off about them. They seemed too dark, somehow, and the nearest was riddled with hollows where tiny lights glimmered. The fog shifted again, and I was gazing at a luxuriant rose garden. The flowers were fat and healthy, but the garden itself was overgrown and had the air of abandonment, the rosebushes almost swallowing their trellises, some of which had collapsed. A little wind blew back the heads of the nearest roses, and I felt as if they were turning to gaze at me.”

IllusionFaerieEnchantmentRose GardenSupernatural Fantasy
Book:Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands
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“Naturally, Wendell's apartments are absurdly comfortable, and somehow there is the atmosphere of a forest about them, though I know this makes little sense. The ceilings are very high, rather like the canopy of an ancient grove--- I suspect he has enchanted them somehow--- and always there is the sound of rustling leaves, though this abruptly ceases if you listen too closely. I would have expected a lot of luxurious frippery from faerie royalty, but his furnishings are simple--- a scattering of sofas, impossible soft; a huge oak table; three magnificent inglenook fireplaces; and a great deal of empty floor through which an impossible little breeze is always stirring, smelling of moss. For decoration there is the mirror from Hrafnsvik with the forest reflected inside it and a few silver baubles, sculptures and vases and the like, which catch the light in unexpected ways, but that's it. And, of course, the place is so clean one feels one may sully it by breathing too hard.”

MirrorFaerieResidencyRustic CharmHomey
Book:Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands
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“Mr. Charles Dickens was serializing his novel Oliver Twist; Mr. Draper had just taken the first photograph of the moon, freezing her pale face on cold paper; Mr. Morse had recently announced a way of transmitting messages down metal wires. Had you mentioned magic or Faerie to any of them, they would have smiled at you disdainfully, except, perhaps for Mr. Dickens, at the time a young man, and beardless. He would have looked at you wistfully.”

MagicFaerieDickensMorseDraper
Book:Stardust
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“Faerie stones can be found in a variety of regions, being particularly common in Cornwall and the Isle of Man. They are unimpressive in appearance and hard to recognize with the untrained eye; their most distinguishing feature is their perfect roundness. They seem primarily to be used to store enchantments for later use or perhaps for the purposes of gift-giving. Danielle de Grey's 1850 Guide to Elfstones of Western Europe is the definitive resource on the subject. (I am aware that many dryadologists today ignore de Grey's research on account of her many scandals, but whatever else she was, I find her a meticulous scholar.) A faerie stone with a crack down it has been spent and is thus harmless. An intact stone should be left untouched and reported to ICAD, the International Council of Arcanologists and Dryadologists.”

StonesProfessionFaerieMagic StoneSide Note
Book:Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries
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“In my view the study of fairy origins assumes a greater degree of importance than popular opinion is wont to concede to it. Indeed, the ideas associated with it strike at the very roots of human belief and primitive methods of reasoning. It is scarcely to be questioned that the explanation of fairy origins is of the utmost value to the better comprehension of primitive religion. Later it will be made clear that, for the writer at least, the whole tradition of Faerie reveals quite numerous and excellent proofs of its former existence as a primitive and separate cult and faith, more particularly as regards its appearance and tradition in these islands.”

FairyCultFaerieFaeriesFeyPrimitive MenPrimitive Religion
Book:British Fairy Origins
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“Tam would gut me if he caught you drinking that.” “Always looking after your best interests,” I said, and pointedly chugged the contents of the glass. It was like a million fireworks exploding inside me, filling my veins with starlight. I laughed aloud, and Lucien groaned. “Human fool,” he hissed. But his glamour had been ripped away. His auburn hair burned like hot metal, and his russet eye smoldered like a bottomless forge. That was what I would capture next. “I’m going to paint you,” I said, and giggled—actually giggled—as the words popped out. “Cauldron boil and fry me,” he muttered, and I laughed again.”

DrunkFeyreTamlinFaerieLucienBest InterestsFaerie Wine
Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“Which of the Irish kingdoms is yours?" "Oh---it's the one you scholars call Silva Lupi," he said. "In the southwest." "Wonderful," I murmured. Faerie realms are named for their dominant feature---statistically, the largest category is silva, woodland, followed by montibus, mountains---and an adjective chosen by the first documenting scholar. Ireland has seven realms, including the better-known Silva Rosis. But Silva Lupi---the forest of wolves---is a realm of shadow and monsters. It is the only one of the Irish realms to exist solely in story---not for lack of interest, of course, a number of scholars have disappeared into its depths.”

IrelandKingdomFaerieRealmSilva
Book:Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries
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“I have come for a throne this time." He smiled, and my legs wobbled with relief. "Have you?" he said. "Well, why not? This kingdom has been ruled by halfbloods and housekeepers; a mortal queen is hardly going to lower us further." And just like that, I was on solid ground. Solider, at any rate; whatever else this man was, he was every bit as snobbish as the majority of the courtly fae. "Why not take the throne yourself, if you are so bothered by the pedigree of its previous occupants?" I asked, which was brazen, but then many of the courtly fae are charmed by boldness in mortals, in much the same way that we coo when a kitten bares its teeth. He snorted. "I value my neck, that's why. Which I have managed to keep intact for many centuries--- far longer than those who covet power in this bloody wolf's den of a court." This was so far from what I had expected that I was silent for a moment. "Wise of you," I said. The malicious amusement was back. "Thank you--- I cannot tell you how highly I value the opinions of mortals, particularly young girls who cannot stop themselves from stumbling into violent faerie realms.”

MonarchyFaerieThroneVerbal SaltAccedence
Book:Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales
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“Be aware! Bad things can happen and the bigger they are, the greater the test. You can learn from them or pity yourself and focus on the negative, which will never get you out of the lesson, remember you hold the key!” Den the Wise Oak Tree, See the little people…An Enchanting Adventure”

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Author:Chris DiSano Davenport
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“If you were happy with all you had, then you’d grow, If the sun and moon could make you glad, then you’d know. With food on your plate and a place to sleep, be thankful and you’ll be given more to keep, Just for now, what you need for now. Feel you are worthy, you will not lack, you’ll enjoy life and love to give back, Forgiving others you forgive yourself, which makes more room to live and be well, Just allow. For every gift you give extends, more love and wealth the heavens send, Again and again, ten times ten, Because you are loved more than you know, your mistakes turn you into a loving soul, You’ll learn how.” Trinity, The Little People Journey into the Mystic Sea”

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Book:The Little People Journey into the Mystic Sea
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“With all control look for the hole, your mind gets weak, unless it’s truth you seek. Swirled and twirled into another world, into the smog, a doorway within the fog.” Deetkatu, The Little People Journey into the Mystic Sea”

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Book:The Little People Journey into the Mystic Sea
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“You might just be compelled to hear, that there is folklore about a boy so dear, a legend the fairies readily discern, of a good King’s rule upon his return. A boy, a boy is in front of me, I know not who this human could be. I will just become a part of this tree! Unless he cries a desperate plea, I shall then be allowed to reach out to thee.” Deetkatu, See the Little People…An Enchanting Adventure”

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Book:See the Little People...An Enchanting Adventure
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“My head says forget it, my heart says I’ll regret it, and what my stomach tells me, I should not ignore. Oh no, I gotta go, give me a leave, not your sleeve! I know this will cease, when I feel peace. So I will help a boy, come to Joy, a risk I shall take, it’s no mistake, my stomach tells me so.” Deetkatu, See the Little People…An Enchanting Adventure”

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Book:See the Little People...An Enchanting Adventure
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