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Fairies Quotes

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Fairies Quotes

“With the last of my magic, I pledge to help Pinocchio become a real boy." She extended her hand to Chiara. "You remember what happened when our magics came together and struck your dove?" As if on cue, Chiara's white dove flew past them and landed on Ilaria's arm. "She came to life," Chia murmured. "Thanks to the two of us." "It takes two to make miracles happen," said Ily. "Will you do the honors?" Taking in a deep breath, Chiara nodded, and together, hand in hand, the sisters approached the lifeless Pinocchio. Prove yourself brave, truthful, and unselfish, and someday you will be a real boy. She touched her wand to Pinocchio's head. "Awake, Pinocchio. Awake." Magic brimmed across the young boy's still body, bringing him to life. His cheeks turned rosy, and his wooden nose became one made of flesh, the nails in his knees and elbows turning into joints and bone and muscle. Gone were his donkey ears and tail. "Papa!" he spoke. "Papa, I'm alive!" Geppetto rose from the sand, unable to believe his ears. But when he saw his dearest Pinocchio a real boy, his tears of sorrow turned to joy. He scooped his boy into his arms. "My son," he whispered. "You've come home." Chiara watched them, her heart full of relief and gladness. This was what made her love being a fairy--- the tender moments of joy, the proof that hope was never in vain.”

“Fairies with gossamer wings, Bring forth beauty, grace and joyful things. Fairies of the earth are caretakers of our soil, water and trees, They watch over beautiful creatures such as bears, bunnies and bees. Fairies ask that you breathe in and appreciate the vantage point from which you stand, Then trod carefully and respectfully with each intentional step you make across this beautiful land.”

“Now the wind, which sings and weeps, Down the dark road swoops and leaps. Crow’s wings ripping through the clouds Tear the heavens into shrouds. Naked tree with shaking boughs Black and dreadful mops and mows. Morgan the Fairy sings and sighs, Morgan sings and Morgan cries, Morgan moans and Morgan weeps, Down the dark road swoops and leaps And within his dwelling creeps Morgan the Fairy’s icy breath Bring him to dole and death. Make him drink from your black cup, Wine of mulberry make him sup. So his pain may longer be, Long his spirit’s agony. Fill his clothes with biting lice, Curse his horse with stinging flies, Crack his bones until he dies. Strike his nerves with mortal cold Rot his flesh with creeping mould So his pain may longer be, Long his spirit’s agony And his body maggot’s fee.”

“Suddenly, Rachel dropped the toy and the girls stared at each other, horrified. "We never argue!" said Kirsty, her voice trembling a little. "What's wrong?" "It must be because of the missing tiara," said Rachel. "Even we can't play well together!" "I'm sorry," said Kirsty. "I didn't mean to argue with you." "I didn't either," said Rachel. "I'm sorry, too.”

“It must not be thought, however, that in pagan Ireland Fairyland was altogether conceived as a Hades or place of the dead. We have already seen that in some of its types and aspects it was inherently nothing of the sort; as when, for example, it came to be confused with the Land of the Gods. In all likelihood these separate paradises and deadlands of a nature so various were the result of the stratified beliefs of successive races dwelling in the same region. A conquering race would scarcely credit that its heroes would, after death, betake themselves to the deadland of the beaten and enslaved aborigines. The gods of vanquished races might be conceived as presiding over spheres of the dead for which their victors would have nothing but contempt, and which, because of that very contempt, might come to be conceived as hells or places of a debased and grovelling kind, pestiferous regions which only the spirits of despised "natives" or the undesirable might inhabit.”

“It must be understood that in some cases the process by which a god or goddess degenerates into a fairy may occupy centuries, and that in the passage of generations such an alteration may be brought about in appearance and traits as to make it seem impossible that any relationship actually exists between the old form and the new. This may be accounted for by the circumstance that in gradually assuming the traits of fairyhood the god or goddess may also have taken on the characteristics of fairies which Already existed in the minds of the folk, the elves of a past age, who were already elves at a period when he or she still flourished in the full vigour of godhead. For in one sense Faerie represents a species of limbo, a great abyss of traditional material, into which every kind of ancient belief came to be cast as the acceptance of one new faith after another dictated the abandonment of forms and ideas unacceptable to its doctrines. The difference between god and fairy is indeed the difference between religion and folk-lore.”

“As Mr. R. U. Sayee has well said: 'It should be clear a priori that fairy lore must have developed as a result of modifications and accretions received in different countries and at many periods, though we must not overlook the part played by tradition in providing a mould that to some extent determines the nature of later additions.' It must also be self-evident that a great deal of confusion has been caused by the assumption that some spirit-types were fairies which in a more definite sense are certainly not of elfin provenance. In some epochs, indeed, Faerie appears to have been regarded as a species of limbo to which all 'pagan' spirits - to say nothing of defeated gods, monsters, and demons - could be banished, along with the personnel of Olympus and the rout of witchcraft. Such types, however, are usually fairly easy of detection.”

“Why has not England a great mythology? Our folklore has never advanced beyond daintiness, and the greater melodies about our country-side have all issued through the pipes of Greece. Deep and true as the native imagination can be, it seems to have failed here. It has stopped with the witches and the fairies. It cannot vivify one fraction of a summer field, or give names to half a dozen stars. England still waits for the supreme moment of her literature—for the great poet who shall voice her, or, better still for the thousand little poets whose voices shall pass into our common talk.”

“And the One will reveal the Bow of the Southern Star and conquer the enemy with courage and fine judgment. The sight of the One is true and the enemy cannot hide. Griffon will fly”

“And the One will take the Sword of the Western Sun and triumph over the enemy with boldness and insight. The arm of the One is steady and heads will roll. Snow Giants will battle”

“By the second cycle of the solstice of the warm time, the One will face the enemy. And the One will unearth the Shield of the Northern Lights and smote the enemy with daring and intelligence. The heart of the One is pious and evil will cower. Couatl will rise.”

“And the One will win the Armor of the Easter Dawn and defeat the enemy with audacity and wisdom. The body of the One is strong and ready to lead. Lammasu will pounce”

“There are three eternal beings in Wonderland. The Caterpillar - a powerful oracle, the legendary Bandersnatch, and the Eternity Rose. Wonderland Academy was built here, around the garden of the Eternity Rose, to protect this precious entity. The Eternity Rose guides Wonderland in the darkest times, but it has not worked since The Greatest of Disasters. The re-awakening of the Eternity Rose is said to be a harbinger of...”