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#fictional

Read through the most famous quotes by topic #fictional




Power surged through him: unfettered power, unimaginable power. It coursed through him and gave life to his maddened cry, feeding it, making it unnecesssary even to breathe. Deeper and deeper his screm became, until it was the primal voice of the very land itself. It was raw, searing. It was the energy of making and undoing, and he had unleashed it.


Derek Donais


#magic #power #sci-fictional #life

How could you fall in love with a three inch worm?


Stephenie Meyer


#humor #romance #humor

Pale hair fell in waves to his shoulders, framing a face mortal females considered a sensual feast. They didn't know the man was actually a devil in angel's skin. They should have, though. He practically glowed with irreverence, and there was an unholy gleam in his green eyes that proclaimed he would laugh in your face while cutting out your heat. Or laugh in your face while you cut out his heart.


Gena Showalter


#descriptive #fictional #description

She was returning home to be the wife of, mother of, First Lady of, but what did that really mean?


Stacy Hawkins Adams


#fictional-character #identity-crisis #personal-growth #home

This isn't your world. It's your parents. Your world is still out there, waiting to be discovered. Always remember that.


Carroll Bryant


#fictional #love #love-story #lovers #romance

Can I kiss you?” And she would let him, lightly on her lips, a moment of brief anticipation. “Your kisses are like sugar woman.” He would tell her affectionately. “So sweet.” He would close in on her and then ask softly, “Please spend the night with me.


Keira D. Skye


#couples #kiss #kisses #kissing #love

Now, years later, he had been commissioned to fashion pictures with sugar water and dyes, a holiday mural. He had risen into something he could do, he had been recognized, and those years spent enduring his father's impatience seemed far away. He would do it for number 98,761,580, his love whose hand he held, cold as it was, who had lain beside him in the tunnels, in the filth. What had haunted him was the thought of her lovely body wasting away. It had torn at his eyes, his throat. It had taken away his faith. He painted a band of sugar on the walls of the hotel, the mural reflecting the city back to itself - the deep green park, the holiday windows, lovers under golden angels, flowers spilling out of markets in December, a resurrected skyscraper, a choir of variegated faces singing in front of a red door of a dark church, the homeless - not swept away, not forgotten - their realities on their faces, hands, hair. It was not a Rockwell. There were a few artists, subcontractors, who kept trying to abscond with the project, to make it what it wasn't for the sake of something they likened to a good make-believe before bed. -- 'A Potter's Field


Meg Sefton


#short-stories #faith

You know," Kavita begins, "I think I can pick out my own furniture. I am an artist after all. I do have some taste." "No you don't." Nick plainly states. "No man has taste. Besides, I didn't pick it out, she did. Wives are good for things like that.


Carroll Bryant


#fiction #fiction-novel #love #lovers-fictional #romance

At some point in life I wonder what's next because emotions are temperoral phenomenons


Akobundu Kelechi


#motivational-quotes #non-fictional-fiction #psychological #motivational

The urge to create a fictional narrative is a mysterious one, and when an idea comes, the writer's sense of what a story wants to be is only vaguely visible through the penumbra of inspiration.


Adam Johnson


#inspiration #write #writer #inspirational






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