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“You managed to stop yourself from becoming a full-fledged beast. Well done! Recovering your human soul and mind on your own, I mean." The Beast blinked. "Permanently? I'm not going to... relapse? Go back to being a beast- I mean, in my head- again?" "Of course not," Rosalind said impatiently. "As long as your love for Belle- and hers for you- lasts. The spell is broken, or mitigated, at least." Belle and the Beast looked at each other, eyes wide. The Beast suddenly began to scratch the back of his neck in embarrassment. Belle blushed. And then she found herself almost overcome with giggles. "It's pretty obvious," Maurice pointed out with a smile. "Yes, another factor in my punishment," Rosalind said grimly. "Magic always comes back on itself... of course it would be my daughter who would break the spell. I am an idiot. And now here you are, her future husband. A prince." "King," Maurice corrected mildly.”

“You mark my words: Whenever a cult attacks Christianity, the first place they're going to go is they're going to attack the deity of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ; is that not true? They are going to attack His deity. Throughout 2000 years of Christian history, we have had to build walls to keep them out. We have had to fight, we have had to amass arms, we have had to do apologetics, we have had to do it all. It is our purpose and our responsibility to proclaim that Jesus Christ is God.”

“You married Elora?” “Yes, briefly.” Oren emphasized how fleeting it had been. “We were wed because we thought it would be a good way to combine our respective kingdoms. Vittra and Trylle have had their disagreements over the years, and we wanted to create peace. Unfortunately, your mother is the most impossible, irrational, horrible woman on the planet.” He smiled at me. “Well, you know. You’ve met her.”

“You married me for my brains? I can’t believe it.” He grinned. “Well, among other things.” “My charming personality?” He chuckled. “Not exactly. You have the nicest looking legs ever.” “What?” “Hey! I can’t help it. I guess I’m just a leg man. Personality comes in second. Brains are third.” “Brains are third?” she said in mock disappointment. “So why did you marry me?” “Hmmm.” Amelia tapped his lips. “Your sweet kisses were the main reason. The rest of you came as a package deal.” “The rest of me?” he said incredulously. “Well, at least I’m a good kisser. I can live with that.”

“You matter as much as the things that matter to you. And I got so backwards trying to matter to him. All this time, there were real things to care about: real, good people who care about me, and this place. It's so easy to get stuck. You just get caught in being something, being special or cool or whatever, to the point where you don't even know why you need it; you just think you do.”

“You may ... make a little recreation of poetry, in the midst of your painful studies. Nevertheless, I cannot but advise you. Withhold thy throat from thirst. Be not so set upon poetry, as to be always poring on the passionate and measured pages. ... let not the Circean cup intoxicate you.”