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Beauty And The Beast Retelling Quotes

Browse 22 quotes about Beauty And The Beast Retelling.

Beauty And The Beast Retelling Quotes

“Sacré, Belle!" Marguerite had exclaimed upon entering, and though the grandeur of the room had never dulled for Belle, it was a treat to see it through Marguerite's eyes, and only made Belle more certain that opening it to the public was the right decision. "I know. It's magnificent, isn't it?" Belle replied dreamily. Marguerite ran her hands along the gilded banisters encircling the spiral staircase. "I've never seen so many books in all my life." She turned back to Belle and gave her a wry grin. "Is it true that your husband simply gave it to you during your courtship?" A blush crept up her neck. She had thought of her time in the castle as many things, but a courtship was never one of them. "Something like that," she admitted. She wondered if she would ever feel close enough to Marguerite to tell her the truth. Marguerite let out an appraising whistle. "No wonder you married him." Belle blushed as she pulled her through the stacks, pointing out favorite books along the way. She ushered Marguerite to her favorite chaise nestled in her favorite alcove. "This spot is best for a gloomy afternoon," Belle told her, pointing to a red velvet settee next to a small fireplace, framed by a window almost as tall as the room itself. "The patter of raindrops on the glass mixed with the warmth of the fire..." "It must be heavenly," said Marguerite. "It is." Marguerite spun back around, head tilted to the ceiling, before collapsing in a heap on the plush carpet and motioning for Belle to join her on the floor. Belle acquiesced, lying down beside her friend and noting the view was even more remarkable from that new vantage.”

“She felt herself leaning forward, and sucked in a breath to steady herself, then wished she had not, for immediately the fresh, sweaty, sun-soaked scent of him filled her nostrils, fueling the mad urge to reach out a fingertip and graze that triangle of skin, a desire of such intensity she could hardly breathe or move.”

“He was gleamingly, smolderingly beautiful, like a pure medieval knight or a young King Arthur stepping off the pages of a painting. Though it was always Lancelot who was shown with fair hair like Linden's, those long strands of dark gold and amber softening the hard planes of his warrior-strong face. Did Lancelot have a mouth like Linden's? Full and strong and sensual? Suggesting unspeakable delights if one could only unlock the man who possessed it? Was it a mouth like this which undid Guinevere?”

“Take heed, my sweet, For you shall rue The day you found In me a foe; And what, you ask, Is my revenge? You will not understand, But I will tell: To think you know When you know not; To think you see When you are blind; No might can break, No wit cast off, This curse with which I bind thee; Your cunning plans, Your strength of will, Alike shall fail To free thee. It can be broken, yes; The way of that is hid; You never shall break free, As none before you did. A lowly thing, A gentle thing, May break the spell at last; But hope is vain That wastes itself On such a hopeless task.”

“Belle was different now too, from the poor, provincial girl she had once been to a queen in her own right. She stood tall in a gown as golden as the sun. It hearkened back to the dress she had worn the night she dined and danced with the Beast, when he had shown her a vision of her father and let her go to him, despite the fact that leaving meant an eternity as a monster. It was hard to understand how much had changed since then, and how far they had come.”