Mythical Creatures Quotes

“The usual warmth of his hands wasn’t there. They chilled my skin as they slipped to my waist, and I realized he was scared.”
― M. R. Noble, Karolina Dalca, Dark Eyes

“The violence of nature masks the beauty and joy that hide just beneath the surface.”
― Jack Borden, The Lost City: An Epic YA Fantasy Novel

“A star becomes a sun, under the pressure of darkness.”
― M. R. Noble, Karolina Dalca, Dark Eyes

“Realization hit his face like a bomb. His hand trembled on my cheek, and he looked down to the ground, no longer able to hold my gaze.”
― M. R. Noble, Karolina Dalca, Dark Eyes

“she told me to be my own hero. Inside of all of us was the potential for greatness—all it took was a change in perspective. “You can burn brighter than they can, if you have too.”
― M. R. Noble, Karolina Dalca, Dark Eyes

“For a second, fire flared inside of him, not like mine, but the fire of a man about to lose control.”
― M. R. Noble, Karolina Dalca, Dark Eyes

“Do you want me?” he whispered. It was a simple but loaded question. The answer, like it could remove all anguish from the past few weeks, stood out in my head. “Yes.”
― M. R. Noble, Karolina Dalca, Dark Eyes

“There are two types of men, Karolina. The ones who can admire the greatness of the little flower. Or the ones who try to control it.”
― M. R. Noble, Karolina Dalca, Dark Eyes

“I had plans, Karolina, and I chose power over love.”
― M. R. Noble, Karolina Dalca, Dark Eyes

“You can burn brighter than they can, if you have too.”
― M. R. Noble, Karolina Dalca, Dark Eyes

“What follows is the first in a collection of tales, primarily of one tixie family, who recorded their exploits more than two thousand years ago. Originally written in their own language, these stories have been translated into modern English for the first time.”
― Jack Borden, The Vultures of Doom

“she told me to be my own hero. Inside of all of us was the potential for greatness—all it took was a change in perspective.”
― M. R. Noble a, Karolina Dalca, Dark Eyes

“I couldn’t remember a time when I felt the type of love Miruna had. Eternal love. The kind which keeps one going when one is ninety and alone.”
― M. R. Noble, Karolina Dalca, Dark Eyes

“Writers have influenced thoughts, principals, viewpoints and experiences throughout history. A talented writer’s pen is anointed with magic!”
― C. Toni Graham, Crossroads and the Dominion of Four

“The Dire Wolf killed the Jakes,” he said.
“Who’s this Dire Wolf?” I asked. Figured he was talking about someone he knew.
He spoke in a whisper, almost reverently. “The Dire Wolf is the curse of the Downstream People, the Arkansa. He is an evil spirit of the Quapaw.”
I sighed and shook my head, knowing how these old Indians liked to throw in a bunch of mythical tribal mumbo-jumbo and superstition to deflect blame from someone they knew. “Well, you know where I can find this Dire Wolf fella?” I asked.
“He cannot be found,” the old man said.
“Really. You have reason to believe he’s taken off to other parts?”
He said nothing for a full quarter minute, his black eyes intently on mine, searching. I could see contempt in them and a sadness. Made me nervous.
“No,” old Long Walker answered at last. “He has not departed. Now that he has awakened, he will kill again.”
― Phil Truman, Dire Wolf of the Quapaw: a Jubal Smoak Mystery

“Out of the trees wild people stepped forth, gods Fauns and Satyrs and Dwarfs. Out of the river rose the river god with his Naiad daughters. And all these and all the beasts and birds in their different voices, low or high or thick or clear, replied:
"Hail, Aslan. We hear and obey. We are awake. We love. We think. We speak. We know.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Magician’s Nephew

“Never been around dogs much. My mom had a collie when I was a boy, but she was a gentle animal who stayed around the house, mostly. My father, and the men he knew, all had braces of big surly hunting dogs they used for going after wild hogs. The times he took me with him on those hunts, I was more afraid of those dogs than the feral hogs. Think they could sense it. Always felt like they would’ve taken the least opportunity to sink their teeth into me.”
― Phil Truman, Dire Wolf of the Quapaw: a Jubal Smoak Mystery

“The Scriven men wore stack-heeled boots and pearl-studded evening coats; the ladies in their vast skirts looked like mythical creatures, half woman, half sofa.”
― Philip Reeve, Fever Crumb

“My dear Orga is here on my lap, sleeping blissfully after I spoilt her with the best cuts of meat from the café and a great deal of cream. Rose made several withering remarks about the devilish nature of faerie cats, as well as my indulgence of her, which he seemed to think a bit maudlin, and yet I saw that old hypocrite sneak her several morsels from his dinner plate when he thought I wasn't looking. Like Shadow, she has adopted a glamour here, and presently looks every bit the part of an ordinary mortal cat, apart from her eyes, which flask like gold coins.”
― Heather Fawcett, Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands

“You don’t want them mindless. You want them mindful.”
― Medusa to her Seeker, 12/24/2024

“But before the sword could fall, there was a flash of black, a shadow rising from a hollow in the ground. Orga twined around Taran's feet, and he staggered, falling onto one knee. His sword sliced harmlessly through the air by Wendell's shoulder.
"What's this?" Taran demanded. Then, to my astonishment, he added in a tone of affection, "Betrayal? I kept this one fed during your absence, Prince. I have always liked cats. It seems she has changed her mind about me, though."
"Orga cares even less for my enemies than I do," Wendell said unevenly. "After this, you can expect her to spend the rest of her days orchestrating your demise.”
― Heather Fawcett, Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales

“Your dragon won't breathe fire without it, at first, being stoked.”
― Anthony T. Hincks

“In a large, abandoned field, I found myself cleaning the dung off the only pair of shoes I owned since I can remember. Perhaps, next time, I'll be more cautious of my steppings. It was at that moment when I found myself locking eyes with a creature whose sight I found utterly revolting. Marked from head to heel with hair so short, one could've mistaken the poor thing for a boy, except for the bountiful bosom, whose ample weight carried well. If I were to say the poor thing made Ms. Bottom Slippers look attractive, I kid you not!”
― Marilyn Velez, Tundra: The Darkest Hour

“Several weeks have passed since the incident at Lord Frisberts Hat Shop, and I’m saddened to say, I’ve yet to leave this hole. Rents due, and I could hear old Finby barking from down below, but my pockets run about as dry as the shavings on a chicken coop.
On a good day, I’d gather some lint off my trousers, but not today. No, sir, not today.”
― Marilyn Velez, Tundra: The Darkest Hour

“Across the water, she saw a herd of merhorses rise and fall with the waves. Her breath caught in her throat. Half horse and half fish, they were a magnificent sight. She watched, mesmerized, as they cantered through the water. Their hooves crashed through the waves as their powerful fish tails propelled them forward. Covered in jewellike scales and made of solid muscle, they were the living embodiment of both beauty and strength. Like the sea itself, Kiela thought. One of them tossed its mane, and droplets sprayed up and caught the light--- a flash of rainbow.”
― Sarah Beth Durst, The Spellshop

“He held her a moment longer, allowing the merhorse to become accustomed to her.
"How do I steer?" she asked.
"You don't," he said. "She steers. You ride."
He then released her. Instinctively, she leaned forward and grabbed onto Sian's mane as the merhorse lunged away from the rocks. Sea spray and wind spattered Kiela's face.
The merhorse picked up speed, jumping through the waves like a dolphin. Kiela clung to her mane, feeling as if she were holding on to seaweed, slippery but soft. She let out a shriek as Sian leaped over the top of a large cresting wave, and then she laughed as they sailed down the other side.
She'd never felt anything like this. It was terrifying. And wonderful.
She felt as if her blood had become the wind, and her breath had become the sea spray. She tasted salt, and she tasted freedom. Both were glorious.”
― Sarah Beth Durst, The Spellshop

“Each of the bears had eyes that glowed like embers of a fire, flickering with an intensity that was both wild and beautiful.
"Forest spirits," she breathed.
She'd read about them, in scholar Cypavia's Examinations of the Function of Forest Spirits in Fact and Fiction, and she knew they weren't technically spirits. Originally, their species was from the flying islands in the far western reaches of the empire. When their kind first floated down to the islands in the sea, they hid in the forests and were mistaken for ghosts. Later, when their connection to the trees was discovered, they became known colloquially as forest spirits or tree spirits.”
― Sarah Beth Durst, The Spellshop

“A unicorn stepped onto the path.
Kiela gasped.
Caz breathed, "Whoa."
It was like moonlit water, so bright that tears sprang into Kiela's eyes as she looked at it. Shaped like a dreamer's idea of a horse, the unicorn was slender and graceful--- closer to a line drawing than an in-the-flesh creature. Its neck curved like a wave, with its mane as the sea foam. The longer Kiela looked at it, the more she saw that it wasn't as white as the moon, it was iridescent, like mother-of-pearl, with purples and reds and blues that swirled through its silvery white hide. Its horn was a slender spiral of gold.
It regarded them with ocean-blue eyes.”
― Sarah Beth Durst, The Spellshop

“Fantasy Landslide by Stewart Stafford

I chased Silver Salmon gleam,
To where Ogre Battles rage,
Mad The Swine guided me to
A Black Queen Stone Cold age.

Seven Seas special brew no-go,
Fat Lover Boys Bit The Dust? Tragic!
Let the Fairy-Fellers take this
Invisible Man to A Kind of Magic.

Bohemian Champions Rock you,
To save your Ga Ga heart again,
To Live Forever? Yes, it’s All Worth It!
The Prophet’s Song flashes true again.

© 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“Forgiveness comes from within. If you have said and done things for which you cannot forgive yourself, then surely you are already judged. Why do you need God or anyone else to confirm what you already know? For the life of me, I cannot understand what nonsense goes through the heads of you mortals."
'Iblīs threw up his hands in annoyance, then turned and, muttering to himself, moved on.”
― Michael McGinty, My Digital Soul