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Princesses Quotes

Browse 26 quotes about Princesses.

Princesses Quotes

“Some women have kissed—and some are kissing—a lot of frogs, even though the very first man that they have each kissed was and is still a prince.”

“Because of my secret sense, I have always preferred the stories in the pages of books to those on the screen, but no matter the medium there seemed to be an overriding message: I was lucky to have a mother. Rapunzel was taken away from her mother at birth. Her mother didn't even get to name her and probably wouldn't have chosen the name Rapunzel. Snow White and Gretel had stepmothers who plotted their violent deaths while Cinderella's own stepmother contemplated a slow death for her via the drudgery of housework and the crippling lack of a social life. Girls without their mothers were clearly at risk. Though in most of these stories, the girls eventually did find safety in marriage and lived happily ever after without bickering or marital strife.”

“Hold on to me!” Tedros yelled, hacking briars with his training sword.Dazed, Agatha clung to his chest as he withstood thorn lashes with moans of pain. Soon he had the upper hand and pulled Agatha from the Woods towards the spiked gates, which glowed in recognition and pulled apart, cleaving a narrow path for the two Evers. As the gates speared shut behind them,Agatha looked up at limping Tedros, crisscrossed with bloody scratches, blue shirt shredded away. “Had a feeling Sophie was getting in through the Woods,” he panted, hauling her up into slashed arms before she could protest. “So Professor Dovey gave me permission to take some fairies and stakeout the outer gates. Should have known you’d be here trying to catch her yourself.” Agatha gaped at him dumbly. “Stupid idea for a princess to take on witches alone,” Tedros said, dripping sweat on her pink dress. “Where is she?” Agatha croaked. “Is she safe?” “Not a good idea for princesses to worry about witches either,” Tedros said, hands gripping her waist. Her stomach exploded with butterflies. “Put me down,” she sputtered— “More bad ideas from the princess.” “Put me down!”Tedros obeyed and Agatha pulled away. “I’m not a princess!” she snapped, fixing her collar. “If you say so,” the prince said, eyes drifting downward.Agatha followed them to her gashed legs, waterfalls of brilliant blood. She saw blood blurring— Tedros smiled. “One . . . two . . . three . . .”She fainted in his arms. “Definitely a princess,” he said.”

“Rosabella Beauty was the daughter of the famous Beauty, a girl whose love had turned the Beast back into a prince. Darling Charming was the daughter of the renowned King Charming, whose royal storyline stretched back to the very beginning of stories. The Charming men had always been known for their heroic deeds, luxurious hair, and enchanting eyes. Darling's two brothers were expected to follow in King Charming's heroic footsteps by saving damsels, slaying dragons, and basically conquering whatever evil stepped into their paths. Darling, however, was not a son. She was a daughter. And being a daughter was a different matter altogether. No heroic deeds were expected of her. No quests or adventures. While the activities of the Charming princes had always been celebrated by poets and storytellers, the Charming princesses had a singular destiny- to be damsels in distress waiting for rescue.”

“She painted this one for me. We were playing ocean. Can't you see what it is?" Two dark oval shapes in the middle of the page; hard, glittering shells. Two turtles stretching their heads toward the shore. The translucent sea above the flickering seabed. Brownish black mangrove trees against warm sand. The figures on the beach are tiny, with long, flowing hair. The song floats away from them, out over the ocean; in gold and lurid pink it strikes the dark shapes of the creatures in an extravagance of light. "Those are the princesses," I say. Maraia nods. "The big song is taking them up into the light.”

“At home, she loved the movies. She loved sitting in the dark, waiting for something wonderful to begin. Especially, the tragic and frightening movies in which ladies fainted dead away and monsters roared up out of the dark. Like in that cartoon her mother had taken her to see when she was very small, in which the dark-haired princess ran away into the terrible forest and the owls flew at her and pecked at her hands. That was wonderful--because the world was suddenly alive and excited and wanted things just the way September herself sometimes wanted things. Even if the world seemed mainly not to want a princess bothering it. September had not liked the princess so much, either, as she had a high, breathy voice she found deeply annoying. But the owls and the mines and the flashing eyes in the wood--that she had liked.”