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Romantic Fantasy Quotes

Browse 51 quotes about Romantic Fantasy.

Romantic Fantasy Quotes

“It was Jaenelle's voice, but... She was medium height, slender, and fair-skinned. Her gold mane--not quite hair and not quite fur--was brushed up and back from her exotic face and didn't hide the delicately pointed ears. In the center of her forehead was a tiny, spiral horn. A narrow strip of gold fur traced her spine, ending in a small gold and white fawn tail that flicked over her bare buttocks. The legs were human and shapely, but changed below the calf. Instead of feet, she had dainty horse's hooves. Her human hands had sheathed claws like a cat's. As she shifted position to slip another shard into place, he saw the small, round breasts, the feminine curve of waist and hips, the dark-gold triangle of hair between her legs. Who...? But he knew. Even before she walked over and looked at him, even before he saw the feral intelligence in those ancient, haunted sapphire eyes, he knew. Terrifying and beautiful. Human and Other. Gentle and violent. Innocent and wise. *I am Witch,* she said, a small, defiant quiver in her voice. *I know.* His voice had a seductive throb in it, a hunger he couldn't control or mask.”

“Why?" He stopped pacing and looked at her as if she'd just asked him to count every leaf on every tree in the Old Place. "Because... you're you.”

“You know what?” he whispered, out of breath, “You’re about to be in a whole lot of trouble. We probably better go.”

“But for a long time, and probably far too long, I had a secret wish: the adolescently romantic idea that there was someone out there for me; someone I hadn't met yet who would ask me on a date and make sense of my life. I harbored the hope, I'm now embarrassed to admit, that like a girl in a Lifetime movie, I would look into someone's eyes and find a reflection of my inner life. But sometime between my teenage years and the first years in New York, that idea had pretty well evaporated. I'd grown up.”

“Raven’s head snapped up to face the Winterhold army, his hand instinctively reaching for his greatsword to his right. The boy hadn’t raised from his knees, and his chest heaved with each breath, staring down the tens of thousands that marched towards Raven to stop him from reaching Ariana. To kill him. To kill his followers. To keep her from him.”

“I spent that night lying next to her in the cool of a summer breeze. I watched her drift and dream next to me, while I harnessed the weight of a thousand feelings alongside her. Her face glowed as she slept, as if she could not be any happier. Something profound happened that night, and I did not know what it was. All I knew was that something had changed. It was in the way she gazed at me, in the way her fingers would seek out the comfort of my hands. In retrospect, maybe it was that she had fallen in love for the first time, even though she had yet to say so. But as with all things beautiful, words merely got in the way. So, I didn’t care for them. I felt it in her presence that what we shared went beyond the effable, beyond what could be written about. It was the infinite space between the unspoken I-love-yous that resounded so clearly all around us. When the gods finally lit the stars for the night, and the moon had slipped into oblivion, I watched little rays of starlight twirl in full-bodied color on her celestial face. I wanted to stretch out my hands and caress her, to take hold of her and say, “Where you go, I will go, and where you stay, I will stay. Your people will be my people, and your God my God.” Like Jacob wrestling that terrible angel, I, too, wanted to grasp her—if only for a temporal second—so that I could encounter the divine. But I dared not disturb what was sacred, so I let her sleep.”

“He cupped her cheeks in his hands and pressed his forehead against hers, reminding her of a truth she had long forgotten—that this suspended moment in time had always been, and was never lost, an eternity perched upon an instant of knowing. In such a way he held her, until time ceased to exist.”

“Do you like horses?" "Truth be told, the only thing I love more is dragons." Wren whistles, and a whinny resounds throughout the air. I spin around, marveling as a horse gallops through the field of jasmine. She's like a bolt of obsidian in a blanket of white, her breaths like little gusts of wind. She rears several times once she's next to Wren, stomping her front hooves until he reaches out to pet her. "This is Nerra. She will take us where we must go." Like an acrobat performing a trick for the umpteenth time, Wren hops onto Nerra's back effortlessly. He reaches a hand out to me, and I climb on. He places my hands around his waist, and I swallow hard. "Hold on tight. You're in for a treat," he says. On the count of three, he kicks Nerra into a gallop. The horse is like a dragon bound to the earth. Her gait is smooth, her gallop so strong it practically feels like she's trying to take flight with each stride. I hold on tightly to Wren. We head north. Dressed in bright garments that appear to be dipped in a ray of sunlight, Emerald flitters around as we enter a field of daisies. "Hi," Wren says. "We're on our way to see Omniscius." Emerald gives a graceful nod, following behind Nerra with several other fairies. Much to my delight, as we exit the field of daisies and encroach on a field of red roses, the fairies' beautiful yellow garments turn red. Wren's shirt and my dress do the same.”

“She had her whims and caprices, her laudable virtues and endearing vices. Every nuance of character that made her unique captivated me. I had to discover her, one quirk at a time, and solve the enthralling, enchanting enigma that was her. What did she favor? What did she fear? What drove her completely crazy? None of these things I knew.”

“*I don't want the body,* she whimpered. *It hurts.* *Not always, sweetheart. Not always. Without the body, how will you hear a bird's song? How will you feel a warm summer rain on your skin? How will you taste nutcakes? How will you walk on a beach at sunset and feel the sand and surf under your... hooves?*”

“This place...is it a different planet? Where are we, compared to my home?" Not that an explanation of astral geography would help much. She should have paid more attention in astronomy class. "Yes, this is a separate world -- Alaia. Alaia and your world are... very close, in one sense." "Meaning..." He looked away as if organizing his thoughts. "One could say we share the same sun." "That's impossible. We know all the planets around our sun. There's no other one that has life, or temperatures like Earth's. Besides, if our years match in length like Varene said, we'd be on the same orbit." "In a sense, we are Earth." "What?" She shook her head. "Start over, please." "Perhaps you'd call it a different dimension, or an alternate plane. Our worlds share the sun but we don't exist at the same time. We are each other's shadow. While on your world, you can't see ours. And on ours, we can't see yours. Our Old Letters hint of your world, though cryptically.”

“Snow-crested peaks thrust up far ahead, blazing white and fierce in the late afternoon sun. He measured the sun's height. "There are cotters in the next valley who'll provide beds for the night and a tasty meal." Jilian nodded. "Good, my butt will appreciate a rest. Dang, I wasn't going to admit that," she added sheepishly. He shot her a sideways glance and found himself smiling again. This time it didn't feel as rusty.”

“It is said that years ago a skilled mage, perhaps the most gifted our world has known, chose the dark arts. His outlook became twisted, and the things and people touching his life became twisted as well. He knew that a mage and Source, linked by partnership, could wield much greater power than he could by himself. He also knew that if he linked with a Source, he might not be able to fully control that partnership. He thought it best, therefore, to eliminate any possible competition - by annihilating the Sources.”