Russian Fairy Tales Quotes

“Witch. The word drifted across his mind. We call such women so, because we have no other name.”
― Katherine Arden, The Girl in the Tower

“The more one knows, the sooner one grows old,” Midnight returned cheerfully.”
― Katherine Arden, The Girl in the Tower

“I did not know I was to be outdone by a little magic boy and his tricks,” he said. “I salute you, magician.” He swept her a bow from horseback.

Vasya did not return the bow. “To small minds,” she told him, spine very straight, “any skill must look like sorcery.”
― Katherine Arden, The Girl in the Tower

“I want Dmitrii's admiration. I want a victory. I even want power, over princes and chyerti. I am allowed to want things, winter-king.”
― Katherine Arden, The Winter of the Witch

“In Russian fairy tales, the narrative flows a little differently. In those stories, you won’t find a tale for Cinderella, one for Snow White, one for Rapunzel. Instead, a peculiar cast of characters recurs over and over, in nearly every story, performing different acts and suffering different sorrows, but remaining the same. Ivan the Fool. Yelena the Bright. Baba Yaga. Vasilisa the Brave. Koschei the Deathless.”
― Catherynne M. Valente

“The older she grows, the farther she walks. It is a good thing the world is round and she is fond of walking in circles or else she might disappear across three times nine countries in the thirtieth tsardom!”
― Emma Richler, Be My Wolff

“There is no such thing as magic.”

“But you just—”

“Things are or they are not, Vasya,” he interrupted. “If you want something, it means you do not have it, it means that you do not believe it is there, which means it will never be there. The fire is or it is not . That which you call magic is simply not allowing the world to be other than as you will it.”
― Katherine Arden, The Girl in the Tower

“I've got the perfect dress. It's going to knock your socks off."
Marcus wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but he couldn't wait to find out.”
― Deborah Blake, Wickedly Wonderful

“Returning to bed, Rachel strokes Zachariah's black curls as he drifts into sleep and appreciates the shape and fractal geometry there, the self-similarity and infinity of scale. She breathes in at his scalp, then presses her ear to his, listening for the clamour of voices within, to the long line of fighting men who made him, his head a seashell. There is a template for the fighting man. Rachel listens across three times nine countries, as the fairy-tale saying goes, across three times nine countries in the thirtieth tsardom . . .”
― Emma Richler, Be My Wolff

“Why so sad?" Zach queries in fairy-tale tones. "Rachel?"

"O my brother Ivanushka," she recites. "A heavy stone is round my throat, silken grass grows through my fingers, yellow sand lies on my breast."

"That's perishing gloomy," Zach remarks.

"It ends happily though. Gracious! Everything sounds depressing this morning," adds Rachel. "There's a teacher at my school, she's very young, but she goes, Gracious! Just like a dowager. Makes me laugh. Except this morning. I can't help it. I am too depressed. I hate those voices so much. In the Gardens."

"Stop listening," Zach scolds and put his hands in her hair—silken grass grows through his fingers.”
― Emma Richler, Be My Wolff

“Zachariah, mind the palace," Rachel told her beloved before bashing off across three times nine countries. "But DO NOT DO NOT DO NOT enter the lists. No fighting! No barney, mill, contest, set-to, turn-up, battle, match!”
― Emma Richler, Be My Wolff

“But Vasya never saw them when she was looking for them. They moved between one breath and the next, between one blink and another."- The Girl in the Tower”
― Katherine Arden