Stag Quotes

“There's just one move a man needs to know in order to rock it on the dance floor."

"Yeah? What's the move?"

"STAG"

"What's stag?"

"The only one of Logan's crazy acronyms I live my life by-STAG. Stand there and grind.”
― Elle Kennedy, The Score

“You all have a gift. It's free. It's the gift of song.”
― Christine E. Schulze, The Silver Stag

“Brush snapped. The stag shambled forth from the outer darkness. It loomed above Scobie, its fur rank and steaming. Black blood oozed from gashes along its flanks. Beneath a great jagged crown of antlers its eyes were black, its teeth yellow and broken. Scobie fell to his knees, palms raised in supplication. The stag nuzzled his matted hair and its long tongue lapped at the muddy tears and the streaks of drying blood upon the man’s upturned face. Its muzzle unhinged. The teeth closed and there was a sound like a ripe cabbage cracking apart.”
― Laird Barron, The Beautiful Thing That Awaits Us All

“It was early evening twilight when we came around a corner… and there in the road was a red deer stag. He leapt up the bank beside the road and then paused, looking back over his shoulder as we passed. Like a scene in a dream I watched him as he watched me. He was so close… so still and so beautiful. There was an instant of knowing that my heart was as trapped in this beautiful wildness as my eyes were caught in his calm curious gaze. It was a slowly growing realisation that I had fallen in love a third time… with this lovely, cold strange world of water and stone, sharp light and deep shadows.

And I would never be the same again.”
― Michelle Frost

“Now the three were in a tiny magical clearing in the forest: lime-green moss and tiny, sweet-scented flowers not seen elsewhere in the dark woods grew in profusion. In the middle of it a crystal-clear spring burbled whose waters were supposed to have healing properties. No one said it aloud, but it was very clear this was exactly the sort of place the king-- or queen-- of the forest would live: a golden-antlered stag, a snow-white hart, or...”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“What in the three worlds are you doing?” I took stock of the mess of torn pages scattered around me like the fanned-out train of a dress.

“Making paper animals. I’m taking requests for the next ten minutes only.”

“A spider.”

“How about a horse?”

“A caterpillar.”

“Can I tempt you with a horse?”

He stared at me, unimpressed. “A stag.”

“I’m sorry, did you say horse?” He pressed a finger between his brows, pushing upward as he sighed. “A fucking horse, then.”

I flung the mangled paper I had been holding at him. “Enjoy”
― Jane Washington, A Dream of Embers

“Guardian Of The Forest by Stewart Stafford

Follow the stag, a voice whispered,
For he is the guardian of the forest,
Fleeing danger to well-worn tracks,
Rejuvenating stream water sheen.

Pulchritudinous spiked crown atop,
Surveying all subjects of his realm,
From snow-capped ermine peaks,
Defying resistance of challengers.

Hunters inch closer to their quarry,
In bloodlust desecration, blinded,
To the martyred immortal nobility,
Soaring to the Heavens in rebirth.

© Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford