A riveting, exciting and thoroughly compelling tale of adventure.
If to some my tale seems foolishness I am content that such could count me fool.
I think it is nice to be a little magical. Today we need this. All that we can read in fairy tales or in books. I think somewhere it is all around us. But nowadays we can think that this magic has been killed and I am try to make it survive as long as possible.
The story depicts also the troubled part of the hero's life which precedes and leads up to his death; and an instantaneous death occurring by 'accident' in the midst of prosperity would not suffice for it. It is, in fact, essentially a tale of suffering and calamity conducting to death.
The suffering and calamity are, moreover, exceptional. They befall a conspicuous person. They are themselves of some striking kind. They are also, as a rule, unexpected, and contrasted with previous happiness or glory. A tale, for example, of a man slowly worn to death by disease, poverty, little cares, sordid vices, petty persecutions, however piteous or dreadful it might be, would not be tragic in the Shakespearean sense.
It's [Jack the Giant Slayer] one of those fairy tales your mom and dad read to you when you're little. Never once did I imagine myself in it. It's just phenomenal. Words just can't really describe it. It brings the biggest smile to my face.
People who are upset about something ruminate on it whenever they get a chance; they are constantly drawn back to their own unhappy tale as if it were a horror story left open on a table.
We think that play and fairytales belong to childhood - how shortsighted that is! As though we would want at any time in our life to live without play and fairytales! We give these things other names, to be sure, and feel differently about them, but precisely this is the evidence that they are the same things, for the child too regards play as his work and fairy tales as his truth. The brevity of life ought to preserve us from a pedantic division of life into different stages - as though each brought something new.
I don't believe in this fairy tale of staying together for ever. Ten years with somebody is enough. In ten years, you can give a lot of love.
When most people return from Europe, they tell tales of all the sites they saw, the shopping, the entertainment, etc. Jews, on the other hand, return and say I had this slice of cake in Austria, let me tell you, I don't know how they make it! It was great!
A sense of humor is rare. It isn't telling a joke about how there are three ways to get to heaven. It's being in a restaurant and hearing someone say, Everyone's got their tale of woe, and then turning around and saying, Unfortunately, in life, there's more woe than tail.
I read a lot of 'The Canterbury Tales' on my phone last year, because I was cycling between three different editions, and I needed to have a middle-of-the-night edition for the insomniac reading.
The laundry has its hands on my dirty shirts, sheets, towels and tablecloths, and who knows what tales they tell.
Photography is a great adventure in thinking and looking, a wonderful magic toy that miraculously manages to combine our adult awareness with the fairy-tale world of childhood, a never-ending journey through great and small, through variations and the realm of illusions and appearances, a labyrinthine and specular place of multitudes and simulation.
As a relentless gatherer of moments, I find that my favorite images, although grounded in the present, are like spirits shaped by memories. They whisper of fairy tales, poetry, and other lives, as each gesture connects with another and raises yet another from the dead. Shadows flicker on film to an inner melody as I navigate, camera at hand and at the speed of light, through unimaginable worlds - desperately trying to make sense of the joy and suffering before it all disappears.
My favorite movie is The Wizard of Oz. I love the fairy tale of it. And Gone With the Wind was always one of my favorites because it's so dramatic and stunning.
It sounds cheesy but I think my life's kinda like a fairy tale. I worked really hard, but I'm very, very lucky too. I'm just 16 and I've done so many amazing things. I travel the world, I have fans who support me, and I get to do what I love - make movies, sing and really be myself. I have a beautiful family, a great support system, and wonderful friends - and I go shopping every week! I'm so lucky, but it's not necessarily like "A Cinderella Story."
Having a magical element in a realistic setting without explanation seems to me to be the hallmark of fairy tales, which present us with a kind of metaphorical look at some aspect of our lives.
Frankly, Django is an American story that needs to be told, when you think of slavery existing in this country for 245 years. In slave narratives there were all types of tales and drama and heroism and pain and love that happened during that time. That's rich material for drama! Everyone complains that there are no new stories left to tell. Not true, there are a whole bunch of them, and they're all American with a capital A.
My models were oral, were storytellers. Like my grandmothers and my aunts. It's true, a lot of people in my life were not literate in a formal sense, but they were storytellers. So I had this experience of just watching somebody spin a tale off the top of her head. I loved that.
That which we remember is, more often than not, that which we would like to have been; or that which we hope to be. Thus our memory and our identity are ever at odds; our history ever a tale told by inattentive idealists.
I used to write my own versions of famous tales, such as William Tell or Robin Hood, and illustrate them myself, too. When I entered my teens, I got more into horror and science fiction and wrote a lot of short stories. A literary education complicated things and for many years I wrote nothing but poetry. Then I got back to story-telling.
Is it because you are sunk in the cruelty of superstition, or feel no interest in the honor of your Creator, that you listen to the horrid tales of the Bible, or hear them with callous indifference?
Give Mozart a fairy tale and he creates without effort an immortal masterpiece.
The fairy tale journey may look like an outward trek across plains and mountains, through castles and forests, but the actual movement is inward, into the lands of the soul.
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