Storybook Quotes

“Ô, Wanderess, Wanderess
When did you feel your
most euphoric kiss?
Was I the source
of your greatest bliss?”
― Roman Payne

“Our lips were for each other and our eyes were full of dreams. We knew nothing of travel and we knew nothing of loss. Ours was a world of eternal spring, until the summer came.”
― Roman Payne, Hope and Despair

“Ô, Muse of the Heart’s Passion,
let me relive my Love’s memory,
to remember her body, so brave and so free,
and the sound of my Dreameress singing to me,
and the scent of my Dreameress sleeping by me,
Ô, sing, sweet Muse, my soliloquy!”
― Roman Payne

“Look, I can appreciate this. I was young too, I felt just like you. Hated authority, hated all my bosses, thought they were full of shit. Look, it's like they say, if you're not a rebel by the age of 20, you got no heart, but if you haven't turned establishment by 30, you've got no brains. Because there are no story-book romances, no fairy-tale endings. So before you run out and change the world, ask yourself, "What do you really want?”
― George Huang, Swimming with Sharks

“It takes one person to rewrite the history book.”
― J.R. Rim

“Stella scribbled
in thick black texta
across half the pages
of my best storybook,
filled with people who ventured
where their hearts took them.
Beautiful worlds beyond mine.”
― Emma Cameron, Cinnamon Rain

“Our stories hold unique inspiration for one another.”
― Lailah Gifty Akita, Think Great: Be Great!

“The universe is reinventing storybooks of fun.”
― Anthony T. Hincks

“Perhaps he would be less murderous if his moniker wasn’t so ridiculous.” Unless, of course, the name had been bestowed upon him at birth, in which case Evie would applaud his mother for her incredible foresight.”
― Hannah Nicole Maehrer

“It smells like rotted flesh and despair,” one of them had said. Evie had promptly asked what despair smelled like, but the other girls just returned to their whispering.”
― Hannah Nicole Maehrer, Assistant to the Villain

“In the never nowhere,'" I read, "'there lived a horse called the Night Mare. Her black coat was sleek as oil, her hooves forged from obsidian. No one knew from what realm she came— or if she came from a realm at all. It was rumored she belonged only to the night, which spans all realms, linking them all yet belonging to none. In this in-between existence, the Night Mare alone had the ability to harness Night Magic, the strongest magic of all.'"
Out of the corner of my eye, the room's light takes on a rich golden hue, growing so intense that I have to squeeze my eyes shut against the brilliance.
Luna gasps softly. My father murmurs something under his breath, full of awe. The golden light warms my fabric skin, and I dare to open my eyes.
When I do, I feel the world shift.
A creature stands in my house, straight out of the Grimoriel's ruffled pages. A black horse— no, not just black. Her coat is the deep velvet of a moonless night sky, yet golden strands wink and glow softly. Her mane flows as if caught in an invisible breeze. Her dark eyes are large, deep, ancient. And somehow gentle.”
― Megan Shepherd, Shadow over the Pumpkin Queen