If any man tries to stop us, cut him down.
George R.R. Martin
The best fantasy is written in the language of dreams. It is alive as dreams are alive, more real than real.. For a moment at least.. That long magic moment before we wake. Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab. Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end. Reality is the strip malls of Burbank, the smokestacks of Cleveland, a parking garage in Newark. Fantasy is the towers of Minas Tirith, the ancient stones of Gormenghast, the halls of Camelot. Fantasy flies on the wings of Icarus, reality on Southwest Airlines. Why do our dreams become so much smaller when they finally come true? We read fantasy to find the colors again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs the sirens sang. There is something old and true in fantasy that speaks to something deep within us, to the child who dreamt that one day he would hunt the forests of the night, and feast beneath the hollow hills, and find a love to last forever somewhere south of Oz and north of Shangri-La. They can keep their heaven. When I die, I'd sooner go to middle Earth.
dreams magic moment fantasy language real reality true earth heaven songs gold sweet strong ancient wings deep night end day child summer find south alive forever die taste colors read written hear meat red love forests stones feast wake
Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab. Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end.
life fantasy reality gold sweet end summer fantasy-fiction meat red books
They were in a long line, an endless line, and as they burst from the wood there was an instant, the smallest part of a heartbeat, when all Catelyn saw was the moonlight on the point of their lance, as if a thousand willowisps were coming down the ridge, wreathed in silver. Then she blinked, and they were only men, rushing down to kill or die.
war fantasy fiction
You win or you die.
fantasy
Sleep is a little death, dreams the whisperings of the Other, who would drag us all into his eternal night.
fantasy epic-fantasy series
Woman? Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap, if I took you for a man. - Daenerys Targaryen
fantasy game-of-thrones
For men, the answer was always the same and never farther away than the nearest sword. For a woman, a mother, the way was stonier and harder to know.
fantasy motherhood
fantasy men-and-women
We will fight a battle, and then we'll rest. Alive or dead, we'll rest.
fantasy battles
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