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Fairytale Retelling Quotes

Browse 177 quotes about Fairytale Retelling.

Fairytale Retelling Quotes

“'My problem was comparatively simple,' Marcus said. 'One kiss was enough to solve it. But that doesn't mean one kiss is enough to wake everyone up and end every nightmare. [...] That's okay,' Marcus whispered to him. 'One kiss doesn't need to be enough to let you know that the nightmare is really over.' Liam swallowed rapidly, the world around him becoming embarrassingly misty. 'I'm not going anywhere,' Marcus promised. 'There'll be as many kisses as you need.' Tilting Liam's head back, Marcus dipped his head and brought their lips together one more time. Liam sighed softly into the kiss and, very slowly, woke up just a little bit more.”

“A strangled, sobbing gasp choked Wendy as the world started to spin around her. She tried to breathe, to break through whatever hold this memory still had on her, but it was all she could do not to let herself go completely. Every piece of her was trapped in that day, silently screaming for her younger self not to abandon her mother in her last moments.”

“She never forgot the day she'd met him, or how his friends had told her to be more than pretty. She never forgot Elizabeth, Yennenga, Abhaya Rani. She wore his gold coin on a chain around her neck until the day she died. But the thing she treasured most was the memory of his smile, a smaile that was a wink and a dare. A wild road on a windy night. A kiss int he dark. A smile that had given her all she'd ever wanted-a chance. A chance to be herself.”

“You thought if you were good. If you gave up the things that made you different. The world you know. That it would be enough. But sacrifice is often so invisible. People do not look for it in others. They know their own. They list them out like titles at a ball. I've done for you. I've done for you. I've done. And it is always your turn now. To hurt, to long. To be a broken thing. A thing that differs. Before, you always thought you were a person.”

“Dressing like that creates the wrong idea.” “Oh really?” Wendy narrowed her eyes; John was moving into dangerous territory. “I wasn’t aware that wearing the same shirt you’re wearing was revolutionary.” “It’s a man’s shirt, Wendy.” Wendy scoffed. “Surprisingly, I’m aware of that. This was all I could find, so unless you want me to go to dinner naked, I suggest you come to terms with my shirt.”

“The demon of revenge had already taken hold of his heart. The cancer of injustice had already eaten at his cheerful soul, leaving a skeleton of a carcass behind, one that could never feel compassion for humans—or anything else—again.”

“The proclamation had been very clear: All eligible maidens were to attend. All. High or low estate, fat or thin, short or tall, one leg or two. In one week's time, the prince was going to pick a pretty girl from the crowd and make a princess of her. To most women in the kingdom, it was as though God had extended His hand to them. But not to the seamstresses. To old Clara Le Dure, it seemed the king had decided this was the week she ought to die. He was personally seeing to it that she should stitch herself into oblivion.”

“He held out his hand. “Need help down?” “I can manage.” Hopefully. She’d never admit it—especially not to this arrogant gnat—but this was the first time she remembered riding a horse, and she knew for certain this was her first time dismounting on her own. Elmery exhaled and gripped the horse’s mane. The two men continued chatting, occasionally waving to the others riding in. She could do this. Surely a learned woman of twenty-four summers could climb off a horse with minimal risk of injury, death, or embarrassment. Praying the massive beast beneath her remained still, she slowly attempted to swing her leg over the horse’s back. Her slipper fell off, landing with an inglorious plop on the right side.”

“Clearly it is simplest never to marry at all,’ I said, trying to keep my voice light. These stories, ridiculous fairy tales though they were, had tainted the evening. Like Vivian, I preferred to think of The Sleeping Princess as a magical spectacle of fairy godmothers and characters from folklore. But then we had both learned the hard way about heartbreak and loss.”

“The rumors spread to the town by the next day, or so Onora judged. Alastair was in a fouler mood than ever when he dropped off her meal, trudging past with a storm-cloud glower on his face and tossing her the package of food without even pausing. Onora felt a slight pang as she watched him go. No doubt he was wondering what manner of woman he was expected to wed and cursing his own future. Perhaps he was as afraid as she, or more so. Perhaps he had reason to be angry. All the same, he could certainly handle his anger better. Onora shook the thoughts away. If Lord Alastair of Airde revolted at the thought of wedding imposter-Onora, all the better. 'Twould be another nail in the imposter's coffin, and 'twould keep Alastair himself away from the throne.”

“My hometown, Casenga, had in its location both the great advantage of being in a wonderfully scenic place (nestled between the arms of two mighty mountains and sheltered by a deep and lush forest) and the stark disadvantage of being in the remotest part of our kingdom. The war with Galland overseas kept King Stefano’s attention—and his resources—stretched thin. This left our town in a peculiar situation, awkwardly straddling the proud and civilized country of Romí, and the wild, perilous no-man’s-land that was the Doloria mountain range… the territory of witches.”