Book series that I find awesome:The Underland Chronicles; The Inheritance Cycle; Percy Jackson and the Olympians; Heroes of Olympus; The Last Apprentice; His Dark Materials; How to Train Your Dragon

In El-harim there lived a man, a man with Yellow eyes

To me, he said, "Beware The whispers, for They whisper lies."

Do not wrestle with The Demons of The Dark

Else upon your mind they'll place a mark

Do not listen to the shadows of The Deep

Else They haunt you when you sleep

-Christopher Paolini, Inheritance

Beware Underlanders, time hangs by a thread,
The hunters are hunted, white water runs red.
The gnawers will strike to extinguish the rest.
The hope of the hopeless resides in a quest.

An Overland warrior, a son of the sun,
May bring back us light, he may bring back us none.
But gather your neighbors and follow his call
Or rats will most surely devour us all.

Two over, two under, of royal descent.
Two flyers, two crawlers, two spinners assent.
One gnawer beside, and one lost up ahead.
And eight will be left when we count up the dead.

The last who will die must decide where he stands.
The fate of the eight is contained in his hands.
So bid him take care, bid him look where he leaps,
As life may be death and death life again reaps.

-Suzanne Collins, Gregor the Overlander

If Under fell, if Over leaped,

If life was death, and Death life reaped,
Something rises from the gloom,
To make the Underland a tomb

Hear it scratching down below,
Rat of long forgotten snow,
Evil cloaked in coat of White,
Will the Warrior drain your light?

What could turn the Warrior week?
What do burning Gnawers seek?
Just a barely speaking pup
That holds the Land of Under up

Die the baby, die his heart
Die his most essential part
Die the peace that rules the hour,
Gnawers have their key to power

-Suzanne Collins, Gregor and the Curse of Bane

Warmblood now a bloodborne death,

Will rob your body of its breath,

Mark your skin, and seal your fate.

The Underland becomes a plate.

Turn and turn and turn again.

You see the what but not the when.

Remedy and wrong entwine,

And so they form a single vine.

Bring the warrior from above

If yet his heart is swayed by love.

Bring the princess or despair,

No crawlers care without her there.

Turn and turn and turn again.

You see the what but not the when.

Remedy and wrong entwine,

And so they form a single vine.

Those whose blood runs red and hot

Must join to seek the healing spot.

In the cradle find the cure

For that which makes the blood impure.

Turn and turn and turn again.

You see the what but not the when.

Remedy and wrong entwine,

And so they form a single vine.

Gnawer, human, set aside

The hatreds that reside inside.

If the flames of war are fanned,

All Warmbloods lose the Underland.

Turn and turn and turn again.

You see the what but not the when.

Remedy and wrong entwine,

And so they form a single vine.

-Suzanne Collins, Gregor and the Curse of the Warmbloods

Dancing in the firelight
See the queen who conquers night
Gold flows from her hot and bright
Father, Mother, Sister, Brother
Off they go I do not know,
if we will see another

Catch the nibblers in a trap
Watch the nibblers spin and snap
Quiet while they take a nap
Father, Mother, Sister, Brother
Off they go I do not know,
if we will see another

Now the guests are at our door
Greet them as we have before
Some will slice and some will pour
Father, Mother, Sister, Brother
Off they go I do not know,
if we will see another

-Suzanne Collins, Gregor and the Marks of Secret

The War Has Been Declared.
Your Ally Been Ensnared.
It Is Now Or It Is Never.
Break The Code Or Die Forever.

Time Is Running Out
Running Out
Running Out

To the Warrior Give My Blade
By His Hand Your Fate Is Made
But Do Not Forget the Ticking
Or the Clicking, Clicking, Clicking
While a Rat's Tongue May Be Flicking
With Its Feet It Does the Tricking
For the Paw and Not the Jaw
Makes the Code of Claw

Time Is Standing Still
Standing Still
Standing Still

Since the Princess Is the Key
To Unlock the Treachery
She Cannot Avoid the Matching

or the Scratching, Scratching, Scratching
When a Secret Plot is Hatching
In the Naming Is the Catching
What She Saw, It Is the Flaw
Of the Code of Claw

Time is Turning Back
Turning Back
Turning Back

When the Monster's Blood Is Spilled
When the Warrior Has Been Killed
You Must Not Ingore the Rapping
Or the Tapping, Tapping, Tapping
If the Gnawers Find you Napping
You Will Rot While They Are Mapping
Out the Law of Those Who Gnaw
In the Code of Claw

-Suzanne Collins, Gregor and the Prophecy of Claw

"Live in the present, remember the past, and fear not the future, for it doesn't exist and never shall. There is only now."

-Saphira (Christopher Paolini)

"When you can have anything you want by uttering a few words, the goal matters not, only the journey to it."

-Rhunon, Eldest (Christopher Paolini)

"Applied properly, it [logic] can overcome any lack of wisdom, which one only gains through age and experience."

-Oromis, Eldest (Christopher Paolini)

"Those whom we love are often the most alien to us."

-Oromis, Eldest (Christopher Paolini)

"Well, I suppose I won't see you for a while. So farewell, good luck, avoid roasted cabbage, don't eat ear wax, and look on the bright side of life!"

-Angela, Eldest (Christopher Paolini)

Watch me, Great Destroyer,

as I settle down to lunch,

Killer whales are tasty ‘cos they’ve

got a lot of crunch.

Great white sharks are scrumptious,

but here’s a little tip:

Those teeny weeny pointy teeth can

give a nasty nip. . . .

Humans can be bland,

but if you have some salt to hand,

A little bit of brine,

will make them taste dive-I-I-I-ne. . . .

I tell the mighty Big Blue Whale,

his life is over soon,

With one swish of this armoured tail

I put out the sun and moon. . . .

The winds and gales are quivering,

when I begin to roar,

The waves themselves are shivering

and trembling back to shore. . . .

Once I set the sea alight

with a single fiery breath. . . .

Once I was so mighty that I thought

my name was Death. . . .

Sing out loud until you’re eaten,

song of melancholy bliss,

For the mighty and the middling

All shall come to THIS. . . .

The supper is still singing.

-Cressida Cowell, How To Train Your Dragon

"Hush little dragon, the world is like ice,

but mother will show you that fire's quite nice.

She'll let you dance with the spirits of old,

and tell you the secrets that want to be told.

The darkness of the egg is now dead

but there are so many great things to fill your small head!

The ocean, the wind, the feathers, the fur,

the scales, the land, the trees; it's a cure.

For darkness is now gone, here comes the light!

Its seductive lure is now only at night!

You'll see the full moon and sing under the sun

Praise the gods, dear child, your time has come!"

- Grim Revolution, fanfic: Principles and Elements

In marble walls as white as milk,

Lined with skin as soft as silk,

Within a fountain crystal clear

A golden apple does appear.

No doors are there to this stronghold

Yet thieves break in and steal the gold.

Answer: ƃƃǝ uɐ

Old Mother Twitchet

Had one eye

And a long tail that she let fly.

And every time she went through a gap,

She left a bit of her tail in her trap.

Answer: pɐǝɹɥʇ puɐ ǝlpǝǝu ɐ

Only one color, but not one size,

Stuck on the ground, yet easily flies,

Present in sun, but not in rain.

Doing no harm, feeling no pain.

Answer: ʍopɐɥs ɐ

Black we are, and much admired

Men seek us if they're tired.

We tire the horse but comfort the man,

Tell me this riddle if you can.

Answer: lɐoɔ

What force and strength cannot get through

I with a gentle touch can do,

And many in the streets would stand,

Were I not a friend at hand.

Answer:ʎǝʞ

The sky is dark and the hills are white

As the storm-king speeds from the north to-night;

And this is the song the storm-king sings,

As over the world his cloak he flings:

"Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;"

He rustles his wings and gruffly sings:

"Sleep, little one, sleep."

On yonder mountain-side a vine

Clings at the foot of a mother pine;

The tree bends over the trembling thing,

And only the vine can hear her sing:

"Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;

What shall you fear when I am here?

Sleep, little one, sleep."

The king may sing in his bitter flight,

The pine may croon to the vine to-night,

But the little snowflake at my breast

Liketh the song I sing the best, --

"Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;

Weary thou art, anext my heart;

Sleep, little one, sleep."

-Eugene Field

The twilight hours, like birds, flew by
As lightly and as free,
Ten thousand stars were in the sky,
Ten thousand on the sea;
For every wave, with dimpled face,
That leaped upon the air,
Had caught a star in its embrace,
And held it trembling there.

-Amelia B. Welby

The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright--
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done--
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun!"

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead--
There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"

"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year.
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.

"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head--
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat--
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more--
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.

"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."

"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
"After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!"
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
"Do you admire the view?

"It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf--
I've had to ask you twice!"

"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"

"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.

-Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There

My soul is full of whispered song;
My blindness is my sight;
The shadows that I feared so long
Are all alive with light.

-Alice Cary, Dying Hymn