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Magical Creatures Quotes

Browse 32 quotes about Magical Creatures.

Magical Creatures Quotes

“High Fae and various lesser-faeries I'd never encountered and didn't know the names of wandered the streets. It was the latter that I noticed more than the others; some long-limbed, hairless, and glowing as if an inner moon dwelled beneath their night-dark skin, some covered in opalescent scales that shifted colour with each graceful step of their clawed, webbed feet, some elegant, wild puzzles of horns and hooves and striped fur. Some were bundled in heavy overcoats, scarves, and mittens- others strode about in nothing but their scales and fur and talons and didn't seem to think twice about it. Neither did anyone else. All of them, however, were preoccupied with taking in the sights, some shopping, some splattered with clay and dust and- and paint.”

“He stalked back to the enormous moth, but it wouldn't return him to Elfhame until he went to a nearby general store, glamoured leaves into money to buy it an entire six-pack of lager, and then poured the booze into a frothing puddle on the ground for the creature to lap at.”

“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.”

“I hadn't known what to expect as I entered the ring of white trees- tall and straight as pillars- but it was not the tall, thin veiled figure in dark tattered robes. Its hunched back facing me. I could count the hard knobs of its spine poking through the thin fabric. Spindly, scabby gray arms clawed at the snare with yellowed, cracked fingernails. ... Then slowly, it turned to me, the dark veil draped over its bald head, blowing in a phantom breeze. A face that looked like it had been crafted from dried, weatherworn bone, its skin either forgotten or discarded, a lipless mouth and too-long teeth held by blackened gums, slitted holes for nostrils, and eyes... eyes that were nothing more than swirling pits of milky white- the white of death, the white of sickness, the white of clean-picked corpses. Peeking above the ragged neck of its dark robes was a body of veins and bones, as dried and solid and horrific as the texture of its face. It let go of the snare, and its too-long fingers clicked against each other as it studied me.”

“A pair of enormous purple toads sat gulping wetly and feasting on dead blowflies. A gigantic tortoise with a jewel-encrusted shell was glittering near the window. Poisonous orange snails were oozing slowly up the side of their glass tank, and a fat white rabbit kept changing into a silk top hat and back again with a loud popping noise. Then there were cats of every color, a noisy cage of ravens, a basket of funny custard-colored furballs that were humming loudly, and on the counter, a vast cage of sleek black rats that were playing some sort of skipping game using their long, bald tails.”

“Strange faces were here. More than just the bits and pieces stolen from nature that adorned the fae in colors and wings and fangs, but things that gave me the chills. Things that didn't feel like fae, more than one feral grin in a pack of men who howled and growled, a bloodless face with more intense fangs than I had seen on any of my people so far, a woman who smelled for all the world like a human but maintained an aura of magic pressure that was anything but.”

“According to my father’s journal and Laken, Phoebe had arrived two weeks before I did, which made sense for her anxiety levels. Unfortunately, her past had left her skin pretty raw and needing help to recover if we ever wanted her quills to grow back completely. She had a few here and there, but the vast majority remained injured. The irony was not lost on me. This little porcupine princess with a pink bed had enough poison in her body to take down an army. Twenty could be killed with just one quill. Attacking the body’s muscles first, then the heart, it’d be a quick death. All the more reason to keep her from the poachers.”

“One spring day in particular, when flowers were just blooming and the breeze was calm, one of our hellblazers broke into the house and flew around hysterically, scorching the place. Roasted Chicken---named by a nine-year-old with witty humor, as all the chickens were named after chicken entrees--- wreaked havoc. The difference between a regular chicken and a hellblazer is the latter spits flames. And this mother-clucking flock had been rescued from an underground fighting ring--- they were feisty.”

“Moving to the enclosure hosting a white wooden home, completed with a pink cushioned bed, I stood over the little gate but saw nothing. Knowing Phoebe and the deadly prickler she was, she’d stay unseen if she wanted. Her anxiety made sure of it. Phoebe: seven, deadly prickler porcupine, poisonous spikes removed by poacher / goes invisible when nervous. Carefully pouring some whack-ass mixture of leaves and berries, I tilted the bucket. It took exactly four seconds for Phoebe to appear— three inches from my face, standing on her hind legs. Endless abyss of shadow-filled eyes poured into my very being. Screaming, I sent a combination of vulgar words into the world as I fell on my ass. Berries rolled, I scurried, and my legs scattered under me. I dove out of the gate, breathing and noting that Phoebe had vanished again. Everything went downhill after that. Swallowing whatever mixture of raw emotions remained in my throat, I fixed the skirt of my dress, wiping my hands on its brown cotton fabric, and held my tongue. Keep going, Reece. Butters, the bear, stood on the opposite side of the pasture. Butters: ten, pimbrough bear, only eats veggies and fruit / starved in cage as cub. Pimbrough bears are known for (1) skin that cannot be pierced, and (2) producing a fluid under their fur that has been known to provide the same shield-like properties if curated correctly. They’re often hunted and caged, which was how Butters was found. His body had grown to fit the cage. With his bad bones, he couldn’t hunt and survive in the wild on his own.”

“I opened my father’s journals and tried to read the scribbling of a middle-aged man with no organization skills. Each creature had its own row with its name, age, species, and notes. First on the list: Indo—easy. Indomitus: seventy, horned ash dragon, cannot fly nor breathe fire / trauma with poachers / scars. Considering he’d been here since before I was born, I knew he was fed in the woods near the water. He didn’t come out to be seen, but I wasn’t surprised. He never was social. I left it at that, leaving his food on a boulder. Next on the list: goats. Finneas and Finnigan: six, dassin goats, Finneas’s eyes pecked out after abandoned / Finnigan is brother don’t separate. Side note: discovered they’re females; keeping the names. Their milk has healing properties, hence the creams we sell.”

“Makeup can be pure fantasy--it can transform you into any kind of magical creature, whether that's a superhero or a retro Hollywood icon or just a more fun, fresher version of yourself. Looking like a stress-free, well-rested working mom? That's some kind of magic to me.”

“A boy is a magical creature you can lock him out of your workshop, but you can't lock him out of your heart. You can get him out of your study, but you can't get him out of your mind. Might as well give up he is your captor, your jailer, your boss and your master a freckled-faced, pint-sized, cat-chasing bundle of noise. But when you come home at night with only the shattered pieces of your hopes and dreams, he can mend them like new with two magic words Hi, Dad!”

“Men-kind shared this world for but a blink, then, sadly, they became enlightened, found science and religion. The new world of men left little room for magic or the magical creatures of old. Earth’s first children were driven into the shadows by flame and cold iron, by man’s insatiable need of conquest.”