Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries

a displeased look on his face, for those whose blood is half Folk and half mortal exist in a state of perpetual displeasure—the typical games of the Folk leave them perplexed, while they find mortal pursuits dull.

as my hand went to the little trinket Poe had given me as a farewell gift. He had called it a key, though it looked nothing like one, and was in fact a small, impossible coil of bone. In some lights, it seemed to curve counterclockwise; in others clockwise. I had put it on a chain around my neck.

When I touched them, a spring breeze fluttered against my fingers, and I smelled rain and green, growing things.

Indeed, I knew half a dozen stories of that ilk—poor, long-suffering mortal gives away a troublesome faerie-made gift in exchange for something mundane, but which reveals unexpected uses. Sometimes that is then traded for something even more wondrous, and on and on it goes.

He is more magic than person, that is the truth of it. Is this what happens to all the Folk as they age, their power hollowing them out like the fissures in an ancient glacier?

He is more magic than person, that is the truth of it. Is this what happens to all the Folk as they age, their power hollowing them out like the fissures in an ancient glacier?

“His Highness cherishes my lady dearly,” he said, moving behind me to add more pins. “And what is cherished must be guarded closely, and protected with enchantments like golden chains.”

but the truth is, my mind grows more and more muddled as the days pass. I know that I have to find a way to undo what the king has done—what I have done—but I also know that if I remain here much longer, I will lose myself entirely.

The ability to forgive is a great virtue,” he said. “Indeed, there are few qualities that are more exquisite or more rare.”

The Folk are, by and large, blinded by pride and incapable of learning from their errors, and even if a mode of thought or behaviour lands them in trouble again and again, each time worse than the one before, they will simply carry on as they always did, which perhaps explains a little of the chaos and absurdity that typifies many faerie stories, and indeed their realms.