Quotes About Fantasy

Everything is made out of Magic

It's true," she said. "Sometimes I do pretend I am a princess. I pretend I am a princess, so that I can try and behave like one.

There is nothing so nice as supposing. It's almost like being a fairy. If you suppose anything hard enough it seems as if it were real.

She liked books more than anything else, and was, in fact, always inventing stories of beautiful things, and telling them to herself

Suddenly it seemed as if he might a sort of wood fairy who might be gone when she came into the garden again. He seemed too good to be true.

You are real, aren't you?" he said. "I have such real dreams very often. You might be one of them.

dream—the real—real dream.

If you were a mermaid, you said, If you were a mermaid, I was the sea.

Everything is an illusion; that is the whole thing about it - illusion, immitation, a mirage. It makes me too sad. Its having like a good dream, you know you are going to wake up.

I'd sit around dreaming that the boys I saw at shows or at work - the boys with silver earrings and big boots - would tell me I was beautiful, take me home and feed me Thai food or omelets and undress me and make love to me all night with the palm trees whispering windsongs about a tortured gleaming city and the moonlight like flame melting our candle bodies.

Weetzie could see him--it was a man, a little man in a turban, with a jewel in his nose, harem pants, and curly-toed slippers. Lanky Lizards! Weetzie exclaimed. Greetings, said the man in an odd voice, a rich, dark purr. Oh, shit! Weetzie said. I beg your pardon? Is that your wish?

Beauty loved him more than anything, her Beast boy, but, secretly, sometimes, she wished he would have remained a Beast.

We no longer believe in fairy tales. But we will learn to believe in monsters.

She imagined herself whirling breathlessly beneath the flashing lights of some impossibly chic Manhattan disco. Suddenly, a hand touches her arm. She turns. 'Pardon me,' Mick Jagger says, 'I believe this next dance is mine.

Along with preadolescence came a more pressing desire for escape. I read more widely, more indiscriminately, and mostly with an interest in how far a book could take me from my life and how long it could keep me there:

Goblins burrowed in the earth, elves sang songs in the trees: Those were the obvious wonders of reading, but behind tham lay the fundamental marvel that, in stories, words could command things to be.

But you see, the Land of Oz has never been civilized, for we are cut off from the rest of the world. Therefore we still have witches and wizards amongst us.

Redd laughed. The lovely thing about being here, she said, gesturing at the maze, is that I'm able to immagine your imagination powerless. Ah, if only that were the case on the outside. But enough chitchat. If you're going to die--which you are--I'm sure you'd like to get it over with. --The Looking Glass Wars

Alice of Wonderland was stranded on Earth.

But I killed you, said Alyss. Did you? Redd turned to The Cat. Why wasn't I informed? --The Looking Glass Wars

Off with...Wonderland's head!

The real world dissolved and I was free to drift in fantasy, living a thousand lives, each one more powerful, more accessible, and more real than my own

Mercy is a chimera.

I dream and it is another life