Faye Quotes

Food. Drink. Sleep. Books. They are all drugs.

Faye, honey, breathe."

True love is finding your soulmate in your best friend

Faërie contains many things besides elves and fays, and besides dwarfs, witches, trolls, giants, or dragons; it holds the seas, the sun, the moon, the sky; and the earth, and all things that are in it: tree and bird, water and stone, wine and bread, and ourselves, mortal men, when we are enchanted.

You have never loved me as I love you--never--never! Yours is not a passionate heart--your heart does not burn in a flame! You are, upon the whole, a sort of fay, or sprite-- not a woman!

You gonna jump on-line and tell your geek squad you landed me?

Merlin, if you don't stop whining, I'm going to take Gwen's sword and beat you to death with it," said Arthur, evenly. "It's plastic." "So it will take me a long time. I'm still game.

‎The simple truth is that you can understand a town. You can know and love and hate it. You can blame it, resent it, and nothing changes. In the end, you're just another part of it.

Well then," Faye said. "Now that you've heard our story, we have just one question to ask you." She fixed Cassie with an odd half smile and said in a sweet, false voice, "Are you planning to be a good witch or a bad witch?

You in my life, me livin' in hell, feels like I've been touched by an angel.

Fay had a spot of blood on the left side of her mouth and I took a wet cloth and wiped it off. Women were meant to suffer; no wonder they asked for constant declarations of love.

Worry less about what other people think about you, and more about what you think about them.

I stand here because of you, my Aslan, my Faye, my protectors and I make the promise that what you gave me, what you taught me, I will live those lessons. I cannot repay you for what you gave me. That's all I can do. All I can do is learn the lesson you taught me and go forward in my life good and pure and right." His voice dipped to a whisper in the microphone and he finished, "Thank you."

Don't say what you would or wouldn't do, honey. Cause one day you might have to.

It was wild. Abandoned. Rough. Wet. Intense. Fiery. Thorough. Exquisite. Heart-pounding. Blood-singing. Soul-rocking. Life-altering. Luscious.

Reproductive freedom is critical to a whole range of issues. If we can’t take charge of this most personal aspect of our lives, we can’t take care of anything. It should not be seen as a privilege or as a benefit, but a fundamental human right.

Good grief," said Merlin. "You look like the bastard child of Dumbledore and David Bowie. No, sorry, Dumbledore and Ziggy Stardust.

I love you today. I will love you tomorrow. I will love you always. Because when we are reborn, I will fall in love with you again and again and again." - Faye Hall, from an untitled script

guilt to motherhood is like grapes to wine

I'll let you in on a secret, honey. The knight who has serious chinks in his armor but never falls is the true hero. That means he's won battles and doesn't waste time polishing his armor so he can look good while he rides in parades that are tributes to his glory. He just drags himself back on his steed and keeps right on battling. And if he's the right kind of knight, he never rides alone. The best heroes inspire loyalty. The best heroes keep fighting the good fight, tirelessly, quietly. The best heroes always have scars. If they didn't, the heroine would have nothing to do. It's her job to help the hero let all that stuff go in order that her man can be strong enough to fight on but when he's with her he's free to just 'breathe'.

I wouldn't want to fuck you if you had a ten inch knob made of gold and your arsehole was the gate to Nirvana. I can't be friends with you because you're a gibbering twatwaffle, not because I would ever, in a million years, want to shag you. Get over yourself!

Then Miah whispered, "Your hair." Chace opened his eyes. "What buddy?" Miah leaned back but didn't let go, looked up at Chace with his red eyes and kept whispering, "Your hair. Lion's hair." Chace didn't get it but forced his own smile and replied quietly, "Okay." Miah let him go, Chace's arms dropped away, Miah's chin quivered but his eyes didn't waver from Chace's when he whispered, "You're my Aslan." Aslan. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Holy fuck.

"Christ, here we go. Backbone."

Down the hill I went, and then, I forgot the ways of men, For night-scents, heady and damp and cool Wakened ecstasy

Hackers are nerdy, pasty, tubby, little geeks with triple thick glasses and this is probably a demented otaku with smelly feet. So catching him will be a breeze!

"Baby," he whispered. "Before I go, I want your mouth."

No' seems such a flimsy and inadequate little word to express how very little interest I have in hearing you rambling on about that particular topic.

"Baby, you gave that to someone else, it wouldn't be mine. Now it's mine. No one can ever have it. It'll always be mine. I love it. I think it's beautiful. So I absolutely do not think the town's sweet, cute, pretty, shy librarian who held onto that for as long as you did then gave it to me is anything but really fuckin' good."

But this is my truth; I who am Morgaine tell you these things, Morgaine who was in later days called Morgan le Fay.

Straight up, this is the man in your bed. I want in there, Faye, and when I get in there, I'm gonna dig in deep so when I share my shit that's so dark you'll be blinded by it and you'll wanna run to the light, you can't because I'm so deep, you can't let go.

A soulmate will never leave you. They will always be apart of your life until one day the chance is given for them to become your life. It is then you will become one.

Nothing happens, and nothing happens, and then everything happens.

Daddy gave me real useful information to protect me in the real world. If anyone hits me, I'm not to hit them back. I wait until their back is turned, then hit them in the head with a brick.

It’s not classified information, Chace. You can read all about it on Wookieepedia.” His body started shaking again, as did his voice when he asked, “Wookieepedia?” “Stop making fun at me when I’m pissed,” I snapped. “Wookieepedia?” Chace repeated, his body now rocking, taking mine and the bed with it.

"What you got to give, Faye, here," his hips pressed into mine, "clean, pure, all fuckin' mine and that's beautiful right there. But the rest, how wet you get, how tight you are, you goin' wild for me like you did just now, baby. Fuck. You gotta know, coupled with the other, that's beauty that's off the charts." Hmm. I liked that. A frak of a lot.

I was going to say he's aimless," the witch replied. "I know he's a bit old to be old to living at home with his mom, but he's had a difficult time holding a job. He's worked at Wendy's, Taco Bell, and Burger King, but it all ends the same way- he challenges his manager to combat, takes over the restaurant, and enslaves his coworkers. Then it's back to video games." - Morgan le Fay

Once upon a time there was a wicked witch and her name was Lilith Eve Hagar Jezebel Delilah Pandora Jahi Tamar and there was a wicked witch and she was also called goddess and her name was Kali Fatima Artemis Hera Isis Mary Ishtar and there was a wicked witch and she was also called queen and her name was Bathsheba Vashti Cleopatra Helen Salome Elizabeth Clytemnestra Medea and there was a wicked witch and she was also called witch and her name was Joan Circe Morgan le Fay Tiamat Maria Leonza Medusa and they had this in common: that they were feared, hated, desired, and worshiped.

The last best hope of life is that at some point during living it, all that you did wrong will suddenly teach you to do right.

That night, it wasn’t Dobie Gray,” I whispered. “It was this song. It was Ella Mae singing this to me when I thought you weren’t all I knew you to be, which is all the words to this song. Twenty-nine years, I held out for this. Then, half an hour later, you proved every one of these words true and every moment since then, you kept doing it. I’ll take you thinking I’m your angel but you need to know you’re my hero. Twenty-nine, honey, I held out for this. Twenty-nine years, I held out for you.

I don’t think we have properly met,” Faye said as we danced together. “So you’re the penis that’s been inside my best friend’s vagina.” Well, that’s one way of putting it. “And you’re the highly inappropriate best friend.

And in a way I have always thought that words are alive a little, for they can whisper sweet nothings and roar dragon flame with equal efficiency.

You know you're having a crappy morning when the best that can be said for it is that at least you're not a Smurf.

The one thing to remember about an adventure is that if it turns out the way you expect it to, it has not been an adventure at all.

Of course a book can change you. It can even change your life. It's like falling in love. And you never know when such an encounter might happen. You should beware of books, they're sleeping genies.

I am not cynical. I am just old. I know what is going to happen next.

The eyes of a man who was all man. And they were wet. Oh my fraking God. His hand came to my jaw, cupping it, his thumb sweeping across my cheekbone but he didn't watch his thumb. His eyes never left mine and he didn't hide it, he didn't fight it. I gave him my virginity. He gave that to me. It was the most beautiful gift I'd ever received. Then he whispered, "I wanna see to you. Will you let me do that, Faye?" I'd let him do anything. Anything. Even though I had no idea what he was talking about. "Yes," I answered. His head dropped and, his lips on mine, he whispered, "Thank you." Then he touched his mouth to mine, gently, slowly slid out and he saw to me.

"Faye, darlin', I want you to hear this and get it, what you just gave me was the most beautiful thing I've ever been given in...my...life. What you'll give me later I know from what I've already had, not just now but since I've known you, will be even more beautiful. With me, anytime, anywhere, you're safe. But of the anytime and anyplace you're with me, the place you're safest is right here, in my bed. You never have to be embarrassed. You can ask questions. You can react how you want. You can be who you are. If I'm doin' something you don't like, you can stop me. Nothin' will ever happen in this bed that you'll be uncomfortable with. I swear to you, baby. You're safe here and you always will be."

He was pressed up against me after kissing me and being all… I don’t know… intense and growly and manly and saying nice thing after nice thing all, well… intense, growly and manly which made him sound like he really, really meant them. At the same time acting like the alpha male who just beat the rest of the world’s alpha males in hand to hand combat and after had climbed up a mountain of their carcasses and was thumping his chest and grunting, ‘Faye, my woman!

Though I no longer presumed to have a conscience, I have never once lacked feelings.

Loneliness is painful. But suffering is not wrong in and of itself. It's part of the human experience, and in a way brings us closer to all people.

I should know, for I am Morgaine le Fay, priestess of the Isle of Avalon, where the ancient religion of the Mother Goddess is born.

It’d been a long time since they’d been together, but as close as they were physically, they’d never been so far apart in every other way.

I hope that the epitaph of the human race when the world ends will be: Here perished a species which lived to tell stories. We tell stories to strangers to ingratiate ourselves, stories to lovers to better adhere us skin to skin, stories in our heads to banish the demons. When we tell truth, often we are callous; when we tell lies, often we are kind. Through it all, we tell stories, and we own an uncanny knack for the task.

[Arthur to Merlin] I'm the Prince of Wales, and you're Welsh. I can do whatever I bloody well like to you.

You're just jealous of my beard." "No. No, really not. It makes you look like you've got a ferret trying to shag your chin.

I'll be at your place tonight, seven thirty." "Does seven thirty mean our reservation is at eight?" "Eight fifteen, in case we hit traffic or weather." "Will this mean you'll turn into a pumpkin on the way back, considering we'll probably get home past your bedtime?" Silence then, "Now she gives me smartass and it's still fuckin' cute."

Let me guess: you were one of those kids who had a chair dedicated to you in detention in school." "Was not. They retired my chair after it sort of accidentally caught on fire. There's a plaque there now.

Please, honey," he whispered, "make tacos. Eat 'em. Watch television. Do whatever. But however it ends, when you go to sleep, crawl into my bed.

Kids are like heroin -- an injection of pain when they're around, but even when they're not around it's like that next fix. You just can't stop thinking about it.

The thing about Valentine's day is that people discover who are single and who to feel jealous of.

It's a stage name," said Arthur, impatiently. "Like Madonna." "No, Madonna's actual name is Madonna," pointed out Merlin. "Oh my God, stop flaunting your Big Gay Knowledge Of Pop,

Remember, if people talk about you behind your back, it only means you are two steps ahead of them.

Being brave and being alone aren't the same thing.

It turned out that it was difficult to stay cross with a man when you could see his nipples.

Wufju fay foo im?” he asks, with his mouth mostly full. “I tried to explain as much as I could,” Poppet says. “I think I made an analogy about cake.” “Well, that must have worked,” Widget says. “Who doesn’t like a good cake analogy?

It was like I was mesmerized by it… two grown men in love… two men fucking.

One must be careful with words. Words turn probabilities into facts and by sheer force of definition translate tendencies into habits.

I settle on a lounge chair, all prepared to dive into Kristen Ashley’s latest novel, Breathe. This woman makes me want to pack my bags and move to Colorado in order to find a bad-ass Alpha man. You know, if I ever plan on finding a man again. As I power up my Kindle, all ready to get to know Chace and Faye

In the story of the blind men and the elephant, what’s usually ignored is the fact that each man’s description was correct. What Faye won’t understand and may never understand is that there is not one true self hidden by many false ones. Rather, there is one true self hidden by many other true ones. Yes, she is the meek and shy and industrious student. Yes, she is the panicky and frightened child. Yes, she is the bold and impulsive seductress. Yes, she is the wife, the mother. And many other things as well. Her belief that only one of these is true obscures the larger truth, which was ultimately the problem with the blind men and the elephant. It wasn’t that they were blind—it’s that they stopped too quickly, and so never knew there was a larger truth to grasp.

"Heard you choking, are you all right?" "You're beautiful, a good kisser, this is our first date, my bed is in the room, I'm nervous as all heck and I just thought I was going to die choking after spitting out gum so no, I'm not all right." Yes, that's what I blurted, word for word. Chace stared at me. I stared back both wondering if I could will myself to melt like the Wicked Witch in The Wizard of Oz and if that was what Laurie meant by honesty or if it was a tad over the top. (...) Then his tongue was in my mouth. (...) "Still nervous?" "No," I whispered. "Good," he muttered.

We all dream of finding that one person whom will love us even after there are no more tomorrows.

I was unable to tear my eyes away from them as they ripped each other’s clothes off. It was two men, no better make that two gods that I must have dreamt up.

He’s so hard. He wants to fuck you… what do you think? Should I let him?

What's the difference between a classical guitar and a pizza? A pizza can feed a family of four.

Loving is upsetting. That's the point of it.

It is the memory of past happiness that makes the present so intolerable.

Some tragedies bind us, as lies do; they are ropes braided of hurt and bitterness, and you cannot ever fully understand how pinioned you are until the ties are loosened.

I relate to this story almost as I would a friend or a lover - at times I want to breathe its entire alphabet into my lungs, and at others I should prefer to throw it across the room.

Let her alone,' said the enkanto, 'or I will curse you blind, lame, and worse.' The old man laughed. 'I'm a curse breaker, fool.' The elf grabbed one of the Jim Beam bottles from the table and slammed it down, so that he was holding a jagged glass neck. The elf smiled a very thin smile. 'Then I won't bother with magic.

Marry Gentry Swallowing Darkness (Laurell K. Hamilton):Pick any fairy tale that’s based on older stories, and the heroine of the piece has a miserable, dangerous, nightmarish time of it.

The Queen of Air and Darkness tilted back her head and laughed. A more ghastly sound I hope never to hear. ‘Do you think I care about these trifles?’ ‘Murder is no trifle, woman,’ Arthur said. ‘No? How many men have you killed, Great King? How many have you slain without cause? How many did you cut down that you might have spared? How many died because you in your battle-rage would not heed their pleas for mercy?’ The High King opened his mouth to speak, but could make no answer.

There – that was the awkward 'I think you're lovely and I do hope we can be friends but, oh, by the way, please don't get flirty because I'm not really in the vagina business' bit over and done with

[Arthur] "Er... Just how much did you have to drink?" Merlin frowned at Arthur... Both of him.

A priestess of Avalon does not lie. But I am cast out of Avalon, and for this, and unless it is all to be for nothing, I must lie, and lie well and quickly

She could see that to lose a sibling was hard: it could only seem unnatural:out of time, out of order, a vicious re-run of your own departure into nothingness.

Today, the mere idea of aristocracy is incompatible with the dominant ideology. But every people needs an aristocracy. It's an integral part of human nature and can't be dispensed with. The question then is not 'For or against aristocracy?' but 'What kind of aristocracy?

The present dominant values (xenophilia, cosmopolitanism, narcissistic individualism, humanitarianism, bourgeois economism, hedonism, homophilia, permissivenes, etc.) are actually anti-values - values of devirilising weakness, since they deplete a civilization's vital energies and weaken its defensive or affirmative capacities.

Truly Alice, books are wonderful things; to sit alone in a room and laugh and cry, because you are reading, and still be safe when you close the book; and having finished it, discover you are changed, yet unchanged! To be able to visit the City of Invention at will, depart at will – that is all, really, education is about, should be about.

For this is the thing the priests do not know, with their One God and One Truth; that there is no such thing as a true tale. Truth has many faces and the truth is like the old road to Avalon; it depends on your own will, and your own thoughts, whither the road will take you, and whether, at the end, you arrive at the Holy Isle of Eternity or among the priests with their bells and their death and their Satan and hell and damnation...but perhaps I am unjust even to them. Even the Lady of the Lake, who hated a priest's robe as she would have hated a poisonous viper, and with good cause too, chid me once for speaking evil of the God. 'For all the Gods are one god,' she said to me then, as she had said many times before, and as I have said to my own novices many times, and as every priestess who comes after me will say again, 'and all the Goddesses are one Goddess, and their is only one Initiator. And to every man his own truth, and the God within.' And so, perhaps, the truth winds somewhere between the road to Glastonbury, Isle of the Priests, and the road to Avalon, lost forever in the mists of the Summer Sea. But this is my truth, I who am Morgaine tell you these things, Morgaine who was in later days called Morgan le Fay.

I've created a monster, haven't I?" said Merlin, staring at the animated figure incredulously. "I think that, technically, I was already a monster," the dragon replied. "Now I am a monster with social networking skills. Or I would be, if I had a Twitter account. And possibly a Facebook. Do I want a Facebook? Is it a book of faces? Is it the same as MySpace? Which of course begs the question: what is MySpace?

In her opinion, Alexander Graham Bell and Clarence Birdseye are the two greatest Americans that ever lived excluding Robert E. Lee. She believes we never lost the War Between the States, that General Lee thought General Grant was the butler and just naturally handed him his sword.

"Um, so, how do I work in the panties and toothbrush? I mean, it's not something you share over dinner," I pointed out, trying not to blush but feeling the heat. "He's got his tongue in your mouth," Krys began, "and he'll have his tongue in your mouth. You're on the couch, and you'll be on the couch. When he takes his tongue out of your mouth, find a way to whisper it in his ear. That'll speed things up." "Real quick," Twyla agreed on a short nod.

I watch my loved ones weep with sorrow, death's silent torment of no tomorrow. I feel their hearts breaking, I sense their despair, United in misery, the grief that they share. How do I show that, I am not gone... but the essence of life's everlasting song Why do they wee? Why do they cry? I'm alive in the wind and I am soaring high. I am sparkling light dancing on streams, a moment of warmth in the fays of sunbeams. The coolness of rain as it falls on your face, the whisper of leaves as wind rushes with haste. Eternal Song, a requiem by Avian of Celieria from Crown of Crystal Flame by C.L. Wilson

His head dropped to watch his thumb move over my fingers as he muttered, “Naked, baby.” My head twitched at his weird word. “Pardon?” His eyes came to mine and he repeated, “Naked.” I felt my brows draw together and I asked, “Naked?” He held my gaze even as he moved...

Looks like Faye's doing a little extracurricular activity," a voice behind her murmured, and Cassie turned gratefully. Nick nodded at the guy who was occupying the seat there, and the guy scrambled up and left. Cassie hardly noticed the occurrence, it was so common. The kids from Crowhaven Road indicated what they wanted, and the outsiders gave it to them. Always. It was the way things worked. Nick sat in the vacated chair and took out a pack of cigarettes. He opened it, shook one forward. Then he noticed Cassie. Cassie was staring at him with her eyebrows lifted, her best Diana expression on. Disapproval radiating from her like heat waves. "Ah," Nick said. He glanced at the cigarettes, then at her again. He tapped the protruding cigarette back into place and tucked the pack in his pocket. "Bad habit," he said.

You – you don't really want to hear me talking about my love life, do you?" "'No' seems such a flimsy and inadequate little word to express how very little interest I have in hearing you rambling on about that particular topic," said the dragon. "Your mating rituals are roughly as fascinating to me as the eating habits of snails." "Right," said Merlin. "Fair enough.

I went over to see Marina two or three or four times a week. I knew as long as I could see the girl I would be all right…. Soon after, I got a letter from Fay. She and the child were living in a hippie commune in New Mexico. It was a nice place, she said. Marina would be able to breathe there. She enclosed a little drawing the girl had made for me.

- [...] On ne doit pas douter de la beauté des choses, même sous un ciel tortionnaire. Si tu n'es pas étonné par le chant du coq ou par la lumière au-dessus des crêtes, si tu ne crois pas en la bonté de ton âme, alors tu ne te bats plus, et c'est comme si tu étais déjà mort. - Demain, le soleil se lèvera et on essaiera encore, a dit Prothé pour conclure.

I’ve always harbored a fondness for monsters. Even as a child, I had rooted for Godzilla and King Kong instead of for the people trying to kill them. It had seemed to me that these monsters’ irritation was perfectly reasonable. Nobody likes to be awakened from slumber by a nuclear explosion, so it was no wonder to me Godzilla was crabby; as for King Kong, few men would blame him for his attraction to pretty Fay Wray. (Though her screaming would have eventually put off anyone less patient than a gorilla.) If you took the monsters’ point of view, everything they did made perfect sense. The trick was learning to think like a monster.

A change in direction was required. The story you finished was perhaps never the one you began. Yes! He would take charge of his life anew, binding his breaking selves together. Those changes in himself that he sought, he himself would initiate and make them. No more of this miasmic, absent drift. How had he ever persuaded himself that his money-mad burg would rescue him all by itself, this Gotham in which Jokers and Penguins were running riot with no Batman (or even Robin) to frustrate their schemes, this Metropolis built of Kryptonite in which no Superman dared set foot, where wealth was mistaken for riches and the joy of possession for happiness, where people lived such polished lives that the great rough truths of raw existence had been rubbed and buffed away, and in which human souls had wandered so separately for so long that they barely remembered how to touch; this city whose fabled electricity powered the electric fences that were being erected between men and men, and men and women, too? Rome did not fall because her armies weakened but because Romans forgot what being Roman meant. Might this new Rome actually be more provincial than its provinces; might these new Romans have forgotten what and how to value, or had they never known? Were all empires so undeserving, or was this one particularly crass? Was nobody in all this bustling endeavor and material plenitude engaged, any longer, on the deep quarry-work of the mind and heart? O Dream-America, was civilization's quest to end in obesity and trivia, at Roy Rogers and Planet Hollywood, in USA Today and on E!; or in million-dollar-game-show greed or fly-on-the-wall voyeurism; or in the eternal confessional booth of Ricki and Oprah and Jerry, whose guests murdered each other after the show; or in a spurt of gross-out dumb-and-dumber comedies designed for young people who sat in darkness howling their ignorance at the silver screen; or even at the unattainable tables of Jean-Georges Vongerichten and Alain Ducasse? What of the search for the hidden keys that unlock the doors of exaltation? Who demolished the City on the Hill and put in its place a row of electric chairs, those dealers in death's democracy, where everyone, the innocent, the mentally deficient, the guilty, could come to die side by side? Who paved Paradise and put up a parking lot? Who settled for George W. Gush's boredom and Al Bore's gush? Who let Charlton Heston out of his cage and then asked why children were getting shot? What, America, of the Grail? O ye Yankee Galahads, ye Hoosier Lancelots, O Parsifals of the stockyards, what of the Table Round? He felt a flood bursting in him and did not hold back. Yes, it had seduced him, America; yes, its brilliance aroused him, and its vast potency too, and he was compromised by this seduction. What he opposed in it he must also attack in himself. It made him want what it promised and eternally withheld. Everyone was an American now, or at least Americanized: Indians, Uzbeks, Japanese, Lilliputians, all. America was the world's playing field, its rule book, umpire, and ball. Even anti-Americanism was Americanism in disguise, conceding, as it did, that America was the only game in town and the matter of America the only business at hand; and so, like everyone, Malik Solanka now walked its high corridors cap in hand, a supplicant at its feast; but that did not mean he could not look it in the eye. Arthur had fallen, Excalibur was lost and dark Mordred was king. Beside him on the throne of Camelot sat the queen, his sister, the witch Morgan le Fay.