Quotes About Fairy

The sleep that flits on baby's eyes --- does anybody know from where it comes ? Yes, there is a rumour that it has its dwelling where, in the fairy village among shadows of the forest dimly lit with glow-worms, there hang two timid buds of enchantment. From there it comes to kiss baby's eyes.

The land of literature is a fairy land to those who view it at a distance, but, like all other landscapes, the charm fades on a nearer approach, and the thorns and briars become visible.

And thus, the Fairy leading, they came at last to a tall hedge wherein were a hundred wickets, all being closed; and those who had passed the Foolish Prince disputed before the hedge and measured the hundred wickets with thirty-nine articles and with a variety of instruments, and each man entered at his chosen wicket, and a butterfly went before him; but no man returned into the open country.

All the world is made of faith, and trust, and pixie dust.

Do you believe in fairies?… If you believe, clap your hands!

And it's so pretty and secluded, went on Mrs. Digby, with these glorious rhododendrons. Look how pretty they are, all sprayed with the water--like fairy jewels--and the rustic seat against those dark cypresses at the back. Really Italian. And the scent of the lilac is so marvellous! Mr. Spiller knew that the cypresses were, in fact, yews, but he did not correct her. A little ignorance was becoming in a woman.

Non è sufficiente credere alla bellezza di un giardino? Che bisogno c'è di credere che nasconda delle fate?

Argi nepakanka matyti, kad sodas nuostabus, negi b?tina tik?ti, kad jame dar slapstosi ir f?jos?

All this Magrathea nonsense seemed juvenile. Isn't it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too? All

You're crazy, Zaphod," he was saying, "Magrathea is a myth, a fairy story, it's what parents tell their kids about at night if they want them to grow up to become economists

A lady, with whom I was riding in the forest, said to me, that the woods always seemed to her to wait, as if the genii who inhabit them suspended their deeds until the wayfarer has passed onward: a thought which poetry has celebrated in the dance of the fairies, which breaks off on the approach of human feet.

You know when you have a party as a kid, and your mom hires a fairy, princess, or superhero to come host the party? I was Fairy Lavender. I loved it. It was good training for theater.

I am the Fairy Wogdog, messenger of the great dog spirit of the East, Queen Dripslobber. Far, far in the East her palace lies! Ah, Rowsby Woof, if only you could see her mighty state, the wonders of her kingdom! The carrion that lies far and wide upon the sands! The manure, Rowsby Woof! The open sewers! Oh how you would jump for joy and run nosing all about!

Not everyone believes that I'm a fairy princess, but the sparkle I feel inside tells me that it's true.

I think, at a child's birth, if a mother could ask a fairy godmother to endow it with the most useful gift, that gift should be curiosity.

Then clear on a flute of purest gold A sweet little fairy played. And wonderful fairy tales she told and marvelous music made.

The wall is silence, the grass is sleep, Tall trees of peace their vigil keep, And the Fairy of Dreams with moth-wings furled. Plays soft on her flute to the drowsy world.

The same that oft-times hath charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam of perilous seas, in fairy lands forlorn.

Away with us he's going, The solemn-eyed: He'll hear no more the lowing Of the calves on the warm hillside Or the kettle on the hob Sing peace into his breast, Or see the brown mice bob Round and round the oatmeal chest. For he comes, the human child, To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than he can understand.

By fairy hands their knell is rung,By forms unseen their dirge is sung;There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray,To bless the turf that wraps their clay,And Freedom shall awhile repair,To dwell a weeping hermit there!

From Satan or from God, what matter? Angel or Siren, What matter, if you make - fairy with velvet eyes, Rhythm, perfume, light, o my only queen - The universe less hideous, each moment less strained?

God defend me from that Welsh fairy, Lest he transform me to a piece of cheese!

If you listen very carefully, you can hear the good fairy come in the night and leave our assignment for tomorrow.

As she sustained wound after wound...the fairy should have fallen, but instead, she danced. This was Titania, the Fairy Queen.