Faeries Quotes

“They could pierce the truth of a lie, and see the lie at the heart of a truth.”
― Cassandra Clare, Lady Midnight

“Having a heart is terrible, but you still need one anyway.”
― Holly Black, How the King of Elfhame Learned to Hate Stories

“You will beg like a peasant, you will love like a queen, and you will hate like old Queen Mab on her throne of webs and bone. Rage will consume you until you crumble away, crumble and crumble and crumble to the day you are old and young with no one left but someone who betrays and hinders and lies.”
― Alexandra Nicholson, Crown of Lies

“Thea, approach us." Artemis turned her eyes to me, and I wobbled forward. "Thea, from these four thrones you feel our power. Let your magic speak and give yourself to your court."
I looked longingly at Candace. I could feel the warmth, the sun and grass and ocean waves emanating from her. Georgina and Candace were definitely creatures of the sun. But I didn't feel anything like that myself. If anything, I was repulsed by it.
Okay, not that one.
On the next throne sat a blond man with flowing hair and a lazy, amused expression. He was blossoms and spring rains and songbirds. But still no pull.
Two down, please let it be the next one.
Next was Artemis. She whispered earthy scents, wet leaves, and howling winds. I could feel cool fall evenings radiating from her, but I didn't feel any pull to it.”
― Sabrina Blackburry, Dirty Lying Faeries

“My phone buzzed. I looked down--- a text from Devin.

Enjoying yourself?

I grinned.

Yup, lots of hot guys here

A sharp sensation, the magnetic warmth we shared, heated with annoyance.

I'll show you why I'm better than them when we get home


Jealousy is unbecoming. You're the only one I'm interested in. The snowplows are going to be busy tomorrow.”
― Sabrina Blackburry, Dirty Lying Faeries

“The Folk do not rot the way mortals do. Sometimes their bodies grow over with lichen or bloom with mushrooms. I've heard stories about battlefields turning in to green hills.”
― Holly Black, The Cruel Prince

“His cuffs are jewelled, and the moth pin that holds his cloak in place has wings that move on their own.”
― Holly Black, The Wicked King

“The more horrible the story, the more it is cherished. Faeries may not be able to lie, but stories grow here as they do anywhere, fed on ambition and envy and desire.”
― Holly Black, The Wicked King

“You murdered my friend,' the beast snarled. 'Murdered him, skinned his corpse, sold it at the market, and then said he deserved it, and yet you have the nerve to question my generosity?' How typically human, he seemed to silently add.

'You didn't need to mention the loophole.' I stepped so close the faerie's breath heated my face. Faerie's couldn't lie, but they could omit information.

The beast snarled again. 'Foolish of me to forget that humans have such low opinions of us. Do you humans no longer understand mercy?' he said, his fangs inches from my throat.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“Good God,’ Derrick says. ‘I cannot believe I agreed to accompany you. I take back my words. Human dancing is dull! When is he going to throw you over his head?”
― Elizabeth May, The Falconer

“He’s a Faerie. Do you expect him to play straightforward?”

Murchaud looked up. “Where are you going now?”

Will smiled. “To strike a bargain with a snake.”
― Elizabeth Bear, Hell and Earth

“The Mebd is unimpressed by suffering.”
― Elizabeth Bear, Hell and Earth

“If I weren’t cursed, I’d make her forget whoever it was who’d taught her that there was something wrong with being fae. Ava had the air of heartbreak about her, and I could make her body pulse with a sensual thrill until she completely forgot the human idiot responsible.”
― C.N. Crawford, Frost

“When was the last time you lost yourself in a pleasure so intense, you forgot your name? That you forgot your own mortality? Because that is what it means to be fae.”
― C.N. Crawford, Frost

“What the Faeries touch cannot be trusted, and they tell naught but lies wrapped in the skin of truth. Wolves in wool coats.”
― Elizabeth Bear, Blood and Iron

“Put your dirty hands on anyone I love ever again and I will kill you.”
― Rachel Morgan, From Storm and Shadow

“Faeries are twilight creatures, and I have become one, too. We rise when the shadows grow long and head to our beds before the sun rises. It is well after midnight when we arrive at the great hill at the palace of Elfhame. To go inside, we must ride between two trees, an oak and a thorn, and then straight in to what appears to be the stone wall of an abandoned folly. I've done it hundreds of times, but I flinch anyway. My whole body braces, I grip the reins hard, and my eyes mash shut.

When I open them, I am inside the hill.

We ride on through a cavern, between pillars of roots, over packed earth.

Then are dozens of the Folk here, crowding around the entrance to the vast throne room, where Court is being held- long-nosed pixies with tattered wings; elegant, green-skinned ladies in long gowns with goblins holding up their trains; tricksy boggans; laughing foxkin; a boy in an owl mask and a golden headdress; an elderly woman with crowns crowding her shoulders; a gaggle of girls with wild roses in their hair; a bark-skinned boy with feathers around his neck; a group of knights all in scarab-green armour. Many I've seen before; a few I have spoken with. Too many for my eyes to drink them all in, yet I cannot look away.

I never get tired of this- of the spectacle, of the pageantry. Maybe Oriana isn't entirely wrong to worry that we might one day get caught up in it, be carried away by it, and forget to take care. I can see why humans succumb to the beautiful nightmare of the Court, why they willingly drown in it.

I know I shouldn't love it as I do, stolen as I am from the mortal world, my parents murdered. But I love it all the same.”
― Holly Black, The Cruel Prince

“Cardan has stopped beside a boy with long copper hair and a pair of small moth wings- a boy who isn't bowing. The boy laughs and Cardan lunges. Between one eyeblink and the next, the prince's balled fist strikes the boy hard across the jaw, sending him sprawling. As the boy falls, Cardan grabs one of his wings. It tears like paper. The boy's scream is thin and reedy. He curls up into himself on the ground, agony plain on his face. I wonder if faerie wings grow back; I know that butterflies that lose a wing never fly again.”
― Holly Black, The Cruel Prince

“Faerie exists beside and below mortal towns, in the shadows of mortal cities, and at their rotten, derelict, worm-eaten centres. Faeries live in hills and valleys and barrows, in alleys and abandoned mortal buildings.”
― Holly Black, The Cruel Prince

“Near the end of his life, he claimed to see things in the forest. Fairy tales come to life.”
― Sabrina Blackburry, Dirty Lying Faeries

“What did he think he was seeing? I began a new search and focused on the stranger things he'd painted.
Fangs
Supernatural fangs
Pointy ears
Wings
The results gave a rather expansive list, which I should have guessed. I'd filled my head with enough fantasy books to last a lifetime when the most interesting thing to do in my hometown was to go to the library. But the last article I clicked on checked all the fantastical boxes and could describe what Dubois thought he was seeing. Closing my laptop, I let out a halfhearted laugh.
"Yeah, right. Faeries.”
― Sabrina Blackburry, Dirty Lying Faeries

“The faeries, be them in good humor or otherwise of a dubious nature, seem to be comfortable intermingling with the human people of the town. Should one fail to be wary of their surroundings, I fear it an easy fate to fall into the whims of the fae folk.”
― Sabrina Blackburry, Dirty Lying Faeries

“Now separated from the other courts, I could see definite Winter Court trademarks: Any skin outside the natural spectrum was tinged blue, purple, white--- an aurora borealis of fae. Metallic glints appeared here and there, reminding me of Heather. Antlers like mine poked out of one or two foreheads. Bright eyes came in every color, some of which I couldn't describe.”
― Sabrina Blackburry, Dirty Lying Faeries

“Above hangs a chandelier made from thin sheets of mica. Tiny glowing faeries are trapped inside for the purpose of adding a warm glow to the room. Occasionally they fly, making shadows dance.”
― Holly Black, The Cruel Prince

“We all knew, deep down, that there was nothing to be done against the faeries. We'd all been told it, regardless of class or rank, from the moment we were born, the warnings sung to us while we rocked in cradles, the rhymes chanted in schoolyards. One of the High Fae could turn your bones to dust from a hundred yards away. Not that my sisters or I had ever seen it.

But we still tried to believe that something- anything- might work against them, if we ever were to encounter them. There were two stalls in the market catering to those fears, offering up charms and baubles and incantations and bits of iron. I couldn't afford them- and if they did indeed work, they would buy us only a few minutes to prepare ourselves. Running was futile; so was fighting.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“Once- long ago and for millennia before that- we had been slaves to High Fae overlords. Once, we had built them glorious, sprawling civilisations from our blood and sweat, built them temples to their feral gods. Once, we had rebelled, across every land and territory. The War had been so bloody, so destructive, that it took six mortal queens crafting the Treaty for the slaughter to cease on both sides and for the wall to be constructed: the North of our world conceded to the High Fae and faeries, who took their magic with them; the South to we cowering mortals, forever forced to scratch out a living from the earth.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“The beast plopped into the chair, the wood groaning, and, in a flash of white light, turned into a golden-haired man.

I stifled a cry and pushed myself against the panelled wall beside the door, feeling for the molding of the threshold, trying to gauge the distance between me and escape. The beast was not a man, not a lesser faerie. He was one of the High Fae, one of their ruling nobility: beautiful, lethal, and merciless.

He was young- or at least what I could see of his face seemed young. His nose, cheeks, and brows were covered by an exquisite golden mask embedded with emeralds shaped like whorls of leaves. Some absurd High Fae fashion, no doubt. It left only his eyes- looking the same as they had in beast form, strong jaw, and mouth for me to see, and the latter tightened into a thin line.

'You should eat something,' he said. Unlike the elegance of his mask, the dark green tunic he wore was rather plain, accented only with a leather baldric across his broad chest. It was more for fighting than style, even though he bore no weapons I could detect. Not just one of the High Fae, but... a warrior, too.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“The stranger whirled with fluid grace. His mask was bronze and fashioned after a fox's features, concealing all but the lower half of his face- along with most of what looked like a wicked, slashing scar from his brow down to his jaw. It didn't hide the eye that was missing- or the carved golden orb that had replaced it and moved as though he could use it. It fixed on me.

Even from across the room, I could see his remaining russet eye widen. He sniffed once, his lips curling a bit to reveal straight white teeth, and then he turned to the other faerie. 'You're joking,' he said quietly. 'That scrawny thing brought down Andras with a single ash arrow?'

Bastard- an absolute bastard. A pity I didn't have the arrow now- or I could shoot him instead.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“A half-wild beast, Nesta had called me. But compared to him, compared to this place, compared to the elegant, easy way they held their goblets, the way the golden-haired one had called me human... we were all half-wild beasts to the High Fae. Even if they were the ones who could don fur and claws.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“It's been a few decades since I last saw one of you,' Lucien drawled, 'but you humans never change, so I don't think I'm wrong in asking why you find our company to be so unpleasant, when surely the men back home aren't much to look at.'

At the other end of the table, Tamlin gave his emissary a long, warning look. Lucien ignored it.

'You're High Fae,' I said tightly. 'I'd ask why you'd even bother inviting me here at all- or dining with me.' Fool- I should have been killed ten times over already.

Lucien said. 'True. But indulge me: you're a human woman, and yet you'd rather eat hot coals than sit here longer than necessary. Ignoring this'- he waved a hang at the metal eye and brutal scar on his face- 'surely we're not so miserable to look at.' Typical faerie vanity and arrogance. That, at least, the legends have been right about. I tucked the knowledge away. 'Unless you have someone back home. Unless there's a line of suitors out the door of your hovel that makes us seem like worms in comparison.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses