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Beauty And The Beast Quotes

Browse 76 quotes about Beauty And The Beast.

Beauty And The Beast Quotes

“Say to yourself, I am perfect, the way I am. Say to yourself, I am beautiful the way I am. Say to yourself, those who do not accept me the way I am, do not deserve me in their life.”

“The female brain itself is a highly intuitive emotion-processing machine, which when put to practice in the progress of the society, would do much more than any man can with all his analytical perspectives.”

“A society where feminine beauty is defined not by the human self on genuine intellectual and sentimental grounds, but by a computer software on the grounds of economic interest, is more dead than alive. It is a society of human bodies, not human beings.”

“You only fix something, when it’s broken. And you - are far from broken.”

“O my Courageous Sister! You have to become the beacon of hope for all women around you and then for the whole society.”

“Listen my dear sister! You only fix something, when it’s broken. And you - are far from broken. Say to yourself, I am perfect, the way I am. Say to yourself, I am beautiful the way I am. Say to yourself, those who do not accept me the way I am, do not deserve me in their life.”

“Beauty is an illusion.”

“Once upon a time in faraway land, a young prince lived in a shining castle... It was a very good story. It often entertained the women who lay in her black hole of a room, manacled to a hard, cold bed. She had enjoyed its repetition in her mind for years. Sometimes she remembered bits differently: sometimes the rose was pink as a sunset by the sea. But that never resonated as well as red as blood....”

“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?”

“You're not the boy they knew; you're a man they don't recognize. Something marks you as separate, and they won't ever understand it." "Because I was cursed." It wasn't a question, and Belle knew she had to tread carefully. "It's more than that. The curse forced you to change, but the transformation was yours alone." "Not just mine." He stepped to her and brought her hands to his chest. Heat rose to her cheeks, but she leaned into the warmth. Lio tilted her chin up and kissed her, sending a shiver down her spine despite the summer heat. She pulled her hands from his and wrapped them around his neck, twining her fingers in his hair, trying to close any distance between them. Every kiss was like their first- capable of wrecking her and healing her in equal measure. A soft growl escaped his lips. She pulled away and looked up, watching as his blue eyes softened. "I was in that darkness for ten years before you gave me a reason to seek the light," he whispered.”

“Almost immediately, I found the red door into the library. I opened it idly- and the breath stopped in my throat. It was the same room I remembered: the shelves, the lion-footed table, the white bass-relief of Clio. But now, tendrils of dark green ivy grew between the shelves, reaching toward the books as if they were hungry to read. White mist flowed along the floor, rippling and tumbling as if blown by wind. Across the ceiling wove a network of icy ropes like tree roots. They dripped- not little droplets like the ice melting off a tree but grape-sized drops of water, like giant tears, that splashed on the table, plopped to the floor.”

“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.”

“Oh, my goodness," Sylvie said with obvious delight, immediately leaning down for a closer look at the former professor's Beauty and the Beast spread. There were iced biscuits, piped well, each in the shape of an animated character. Happily chomping down on a smiling teapot, Mariana cooed, "Look at the gingerbread houses." Adam had re-created the central square of a small French-inspired town in gingerbread blocks, chocolate beams, and blown sugar fountains. He'd mechanized the latter to spill out a cascade of syrup, which fizzed like sherbet and tasted far better than Dominic had expected. Most of the sugar-craft requirements had been checked off on the cake, however, and the sculpted objects that stood atop the icing. Even for a highly skilled, trained sugar artist, it was difficult to pull off a human figure, and Adam had wisely opted for the Beast's enchanted household: the clock, the candelabra, and so on.”

“Her eyes widened as she took in what must be thousands of titles. She stepped farther into the room finding the bookcases rose up at least two stories. Like a bee to honey, she was drawn to the remarkable library. There was a ladder that glided along a set of rails to reach the top shelves. And a spiral staircase for the second floor of shelves with yet another ladder. t was truly remarkable. She didn't know whether she had walked onto the set of My Fair Lady or the library of Beauty and the Beast. She'd never seen anything so magnificent.”

“The princess found herself being gently prodded and pushed and combed and magicked, and her hair felt weird. When she was spun around to face the mirror again, she was in a yellow dress, waves of sunshine spilling down from her bodice to her toes. Her shoulders were bare, which was a little strange, but they were pale and perfect and delicate. 'Swanlike,' she could hear the minstrel saying. Her hair was loosely braided over one shoulder, a yellow ribbon tying it off. The fairies gasped. "You are 'sooooo' beautiful!" Even 'more' beautiful!" "Can it be possible?" "Look at 'this'," a fairy commanded. With a serious look and a wave of her wand, she transformed the princess again. This time her hair was piled high on her head in an elegant chignon, a simple ribbon holding it back. A light blue dress puffed out around her softly, like a cloud. The finest gloves she had ever worn covered her bare arms up to her shoulders. Funny little tinkling shoes felt chilly on her feet. She put her hands on the skirt and twisted this way and that; what a dress to dance in! She would look like a fairy herself. Or a bride.”

“They were in love with him because he was a prince and a faerie and magical and you were supposed to love princes and faeries and magic people. They loved him the way they’d loved Beast the first time he swept Belle around the dance floor in her yellow dress. They loved him as they loved the Eleventh Doctor with his bow tie and his flippy hair and the Tenth Doctor with his mad laugh. They loved him as they loved lead singers of bands and actors in movies, loved him in such a way that their shared love brought them closer together.”