Changeling Quotes

“Hestia sighed. ‘Stepping inside a mirror is like stepping into Pandora’s Box. It is a world of illusion and fragility. If the mirror is broken then so, too, will be whoever is inside the mirror at the time it is broken.”
― Frank Lambert, Xyz

“Riley : "Do you want to claw at me, kitty-cat? Come on."
Mercy: "Sorry, I don't beat defenseless puppies.”
― Nalini Singh, Branded by Fire

“He willingly entered the cage, but now he regarded the lock like a thief contemplating all the ways he could break it.”
― Stephanie Garber, Once Upon a Broken Heart

“Don't say I never gave you anything," he said. " I gave you the stars. Good night, little sister.”
― Cate Tiernan, Changeling

“The prince doesn't even know what you are,' she says with a glance toward Oak. 'Barely one of the Folk. Nothing but a manikin, little more than the stock left behind when a changeling is taken, a thing meant to wither and die.'

Despite myself, my gaze goes to Oak. To see if he understands. But I cannot read anything but pity on his face.

I might be only sticks and snow and hag magic, but at least I did not come from her.

I am no one's child.

That makes me smile, showing red teeth.”
― Holly Black, The Stolen Heir

“He sniffed her. The rubbery black nose inhaled deeply as it passed back and forth over her face, along her throat, her ears. Jeez, it was like being vacuumed-only most Hoovers didn't have the potential to bite her face off.”
― Dani Harper, First Bite

“Something else had come back in her place.
Something that had looked almost like her, but not quite.
A changeling.”
― Krystal Sutherland, House of Hollow

“In the cellar, the two young women were shrouded in darkness as if they were already in their grave.”
― Phillipa Gregory

“Hunter looked around, thinking, deciding on another plan of approach. He was well acquainted with how stubborn I could be, and I could see him weighing his chances of getting through and changing my mind.
He pushed himself off the house and stood before me. 'Tell me the instant you hear from Killian,' He said.
I tried not to show my surprise. 'Okay.'
'I don't like this.'
'I know.'
'I hate this.'
'I know.'
'Right. So call me.”
― Cate Tiernan

“Unfortunately, Candace wasn't the one who'd stood out last night. And hell, did Thea stand out. I'd felt her potential before she'd even parked her van. She exhibited open fascination with Marcel's paintings, and the way she relished every bite on her plate made me remember a time when things could still be new and fascinating. And this wasn't even faerie food--- I wondered what expression she would make if that crossed her lips. She breathed life and pleasure with her every movement. Liveliness--- was that the nature of a fae from the Summer Court, or was that simply Thea?”
― Sabrina Blackburry, Dirty Lying Faeries

“A couple moved off the dance floor, leaving just enough of a window for us to see clearly, Candace and Thea. My heart skipped at the sight of her.
"Magnificent," I whispered. Heather looked at me from the corner of her eye.
"What does that mean?" she asked.
"She radiates it." I waved at the dance floor. "One way or another, she was meant to be a part of our world.”
― Sabrina Blackburry, Dirty Lying Faeries

“Thea froze, kneeling. A glow had begun at her forehead and was crawling down her skin. She looked like living moonlight. She let out a small whimper and grabbed her head. Her light brown hair dulled then ignited in a rose-gold hue. Her light eyes joined her skin, glowing, glimmering, a blinding unnatural blue. She dropped her hands from her head, exposing twin protruding horns--- small antlers like those of a deer and no longer than my finger.
"Holy gods," someone hissed. Candace and Heather stood frozen next to Thea as she sat on the ground, panting. Her eyes darted to me, and my heart nearly burst at the sight of her as I felt an undeniable thread from between us. In the silence of the gallery the whole of the fae courts heard me speak:
"Oh... shit.”
― Sabrina Blackburry, Dirty Lying Faeries

“There was no denying my attraction to Thea before, but now it was so much more than a serendipitous encounter. It was a natural attraction ready to pull us together the moment she had enough of her own magic to give it life.
And she was stunning. Her general shape hadn't changed much. Her features had sharpened, and her ears came to a newly formed point. But her other new features were undeniably fae. Beautiful and elegant and uniquely hers. If I was attracted to her before, the bond was now making her entirely distracting to my senses.”
― Sabrina Blackburry, Dirty Lying Faeries

“Distance is meaningless, as is time, when minds and souls intertwine.”

-Gerome in CHANGELING-”
― Vaun Murphrey

“Protect me from the fairies wild, Or exchange thee for a stolen child. A debt be paid more than a few, Tempting hunger with fairy stew. A mother’s distraction used as bait, To steal unchristen babes in wait. Malevolent fairies will deceive, Of lower nature and unbelief. An act to reflect the human soul, Will light the darkness of shadow. By living life of higher mind, A changeling thee will never find. In thy cradle a bundle of love, Your child protected by God above."
Changelings, Meet the Little People...An Enchanting Adventure”
― Chris DiSano Davenport, See the Little People...An Enchanting Adventure

“Even when they were very small Eliza had known that Sammy needed her more than she needed him, even before he caught the fever and was nearly lost to them. Something in his manner left him vulnerable. Other children had known it when they were small, grown-ups knew it now. They sensed somehow that he was not really one of them.
And he wasn't, he was a changeling. Eliza knew all about changelings. She'd read about them in the book of fairy tales that had sat for a time in the rag and bottle shop. There'd been pictures, too. Fairies and sprites who looked just like Sammy, with his fine strawberry hair, long ribbony limbs and round blue eyes. The way Mother told it, something had set Sammy apart from other children ever since he was a babe: an innocence, a stillness. She used to say that while Eliza had screwed up her little red face and howled for a feeding, Sammy had never cried. He used to lie in his drawer, listening, as if to beautiful music floating on the breeze that no one but he could hear.”
― Kate Morton, The Forgotten Garden

“He’s not like his brother and sister. No sense of accountability. His mother and I molded him into something useful, and he tried to throw it away as soon as he was out of the house.”
― Vincent H. O'Neil, Lovecraftiana: The Magazine of Eldritch Horror

“I was lost, and didn’t even know it. But I’m all right now.”
― Vincent H. O'Neil, Lovecraftiana: The Magazine of Eldritch Horror

“What had he been worrying about twenty minutes earlier? Fuckign witches? Why worry over witches when the internet could conjure so much worse.”
― Victor LaValle, The Changeling

“My hands ignited the night. A strangled cry escaped me as the lightning surged through my palms. I was but a vessel for the raw, white force erupting forth---so much more than the scant sparks that Yoseph had helped coax out of me before.”
― Sabrina Blackburry, Dirty Lying Faeries

“I couldn’t affect her mind. It was already screaming.”
― Arista Holmes, Changeling

“Everything in the world wants to kill us. Even time.”
― Arista Holmes, Changeling

“He thought he'd taught her to run. What had she done instead? Talked to the bloody thing!”
― Arista Holmes, Changeling

“Upon the bed sat a boy, pale as moonlight on new snow. I stopped short, for the creature was nothing like the changelings I have encountered before---ugly, spindly things to a one, with the brains of animals. The boy's long hair was bluish and translucent, and upon his skin was a glimmer like frost. He was beautiful, with an uncanny grace, his eyes sharp with intelligence.”
― Heather Fawcett, Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries

“Folk-tales and ballads conceive of Elfland with a different notion of time to our own. Its people mirror the activities of our world as if to mock or distort them, and to our eyes seem immortal. They affect our world, bringing benefit or harm, but these results are not consonant with our rules, and may resemble the arbitrary operation of luck or chance. Although men may interact with these folk, they can neither understand nor trust them.

The Border Ballads in general are ready to accommodate similtaneously a theology of expiation, reward and punishment, and an Elfland which has no moral imperatives, and interpenetrates our own in unpredictable ways, even inserting off-spring among us by means of the changeling.”
― J.B. Pick, The Great Shadow House: Essays on the Metaphysical Tradition in Scottish Fiction