Best 58 quotes in «snow white quotes» category

She'd never been anything other than absolutely professional with him. Always in a good mood, the calm in the center of every storm. And there had been many. He could depend on her to be consistently cool, competent, and focused. Aside from her rather amazing talent, the way she handled the day-to-day chaos of the kitchen with such smooth aplomb was the thing he'd admired most about her. He'd been convinced that bombs could be going off, and she'd been steadily working away with that quiet smile of hers, truly content, as if she existed inside her own personal sunbeam. To him, she'd been the perennial Snow White, kind to one and all, always making life easier for those around her.

She had me from Hello," I say to Zizzy. "What's wrong with you dude? She never said Hell. She always welcomes us with blood dripping fangs and a horde of corpses surrounding her." Zizzy protests. "Monsters have their own way to say Hello, moron. They just need someone to get it, that this is actually hello.

She is so lovely she could kill you without you even noticing it. A monster girl who knows when to kiss and when to kill.

She started life with a number, not a name. Class: S, No. 13295. She has them memorized by rote, though nobody ever calls her that. The Scientists feel foolish addressing her in long, bewildering strings of alphanumerics. They have told her so themselves. To save time, they simply call her “Snow.

Small acts of kindness are so important," she remembered her mother telling her as they had pulled away. "I once stood in the same spot she is now. I came from nothing." "I don't know what I'd do if I had nothing," Snow recalled saying. Her mother had lifted Snow's chin and looked her straight in the eye. "If that day ever comes, are you going to give up? No. You will carry on just as I did. I didn't give up, and someone took a chance on me." She straightened and leveled her gaze on young Snow. "Always remember your past, Snow, and let it help you make decisions on how to rule your future. But never, ever give up.

Snow came back, but she didn't come back right.

Snow White one, Snow White two, Sorrow is coming out for you. Snow White three, Snow White four, Black as night, go lock your door. Snow White five, Snow White six, Blood red lips and crucifix Snow White seven, Snow White eight, White as snow, don’t stay out late. Snow White Nine, Snow White ten, Snow White now killed snow white then

Snow is a white candle emitting warm beauties around it!

Snow White sucks the blood la ola lala" He sang, throwing bear can at the castle.

Snow pressed herself against the cool wall to make sure he didn't see her. When he was out of sight, she peeked again to look at the guard. He was young and very thin. Not much older than she. And he had a family he was feeding on meals that weren't arriving. She looked down at the warm bread and fruit on her breakfast tray. Her belly was still full from the night before. She could make it until dinner without anything more. Looking both ways to make sure the hall was clear before stepping out of the shadows, Snow walked swiftly toward the guard, her eyes cast downward. The guard looked surprised when she placed her tray at his feet. "Your Highness," he said, struggling for words. "But that's your meal." Snow was too shy to speak. Instead, she waved the food away and pushed the tray closer to his boots. With a small nod and smile, she hurried back to the safety of her chambers before anyone could see them conversing and tell the queen, but not before she heard him speak softly. "Thank you, kind princess. Thank you.

Snow pouted. "I hate roses! They hurt!" Her mother smiled, her image softening along with the sound of her voice. She seemed so far away. "They can, yes, when you get nicked by a thorn." She plucked a single red rose off the bush. It was petrified from the snow and frozen, but still perfectly preserved and almost crimson in color. Snow peered at it closely. "But you shouldn't be afraid to hold on to something beautiful, even if there are thorns in your path. If you want something, sometimes you have to take risks. And when you do"- she handed Snow the rose- "you reap wonderful rewards.

The princess had accepted her fate in an effort to make the best of things, but she refused to do so any longer. It wasn't till she was outside those walls that she'd realized the truth: the only one who could truly break her free was herself. That's why she was back. To claim what was truly hers. Not just the castle, but the province and its throne. Not just for her own happiness, but also for that of her people. Now was the time to strike. It was why she had traveled so far, risked so much, and found strength that she hadn't known she possessed. Queen Ingrid's popularity had never been strong, but in the last few years, the kingdom had gone from indifference to downright terror. She couldn't allow her people to suffer this way any longer. It was time.

Something about her is so tempting to look at. Her anger has a childish aura as if she isn’t made of real evil; just a bratty princess playing with her toy fangs.

The huntsman took pity on her and said, "Run away into the woods, child, and never come back.

That'll all be down to Snow's princessly training, Gretel supposes. Is one generally taught to handle a blade with utmost stealth and precision at princess school?

What people thought of the castle was one of the few things about the kingdom Snow could control, and she took pride in the work... even on days when her back began to ache from scrubbing tiles or her hands grew callused from all the pruning she did in the garden. She tried to break up her day between indoor and outdoor activities when the weather allowed it. Today was a fine day, so she hoped to get out to the garden as soon as possible. She wanted to gather flowers to make bouquets for the castle vases. There wouldn't be many who had the opportunity to see the flowers, but at least the servants' day would be brightened.

Troutie, my bonnie little fellow, am not I the most beautiful woman in all the world?

There was something familiar but strange about her - Snow White with a suntan. Cinderella in biker boots. Tough and delicate and magical and real all at once.

They ran through the night together in a darkling fairy tale of blood and forests and snow, of girls with raven's wing hair and rose-red lips and sharp teeth as white as milk.

Thinking of the cute, giddy, doe eyed, light-hearted, and innocent Snow White as a vampire, turns my stomach. According to dubious Mr. Officer, she isn’t even the modern kind of vampire. She is one of the older ones rooted in the abyss of the human psyche, the sexy but scary, vicious, unapologetic, blood sucking one, living in a Dracula mansion built by the Evil Queen herself. What kind of twisted story is that?

With the blood dripping from her lips, with her blood spattered white dress, and with her pale skin, she is just a horrifyingly lovely and a breathtakingly attractive sixteen-year-old girl living in Hell. Nothing wrong with that, right?

A few moments later, a group of white birds landed on the steps to watch her. "Hello there!" she said and removed some birdseed from her pocket, laying it on the steps for them to eat. When they were finished, they stayed to watch her work. She didn't mind. It helped to have company, even if they couldn't talk. She found herself talking to them sometimes. True, some might call her mad for conversing with animals, but who was paying attention?

Add Snow White and her seven dwarfs, 2 droids for Luke Skywalker, of course. 1 true ring to rule them all. A decimal is a place to stall. Snow White's gone, the dwarfs alone. This system your next clue has shown. Now you might ask, this little key, Just what does it mean for me? Hold on tight and you will see, Someday it will set clues free.

Would you please come out?" now looked down at her tattered dress and hesitated. That's when she heard her mother's voice in her head again, another memory from long ago. They'd encountered some beggars in the village and she recalled asking her mother why they dressed so differently. You must look past appearances, Snow, she remembered her mother telling her. A person's true worth is always found within.

All through dinner Arturo and I held hands under the table like a couple of kids, and that made the dinner quite wonderful, even though Mrs. Fletcher kept staring at Olivia as though committing her to memory. It got so bad that Olivia turned to her husband and said: "Has it happened at last, Gerald? Have I become a curiosity?

All monsters must die except the beautiful ones

All these threads, like the ley-lines he'd read about in his Time-Life history books, converging on the Cicciaro girl, who lay there unaware, a glass-coffined beauty whose kingdom was in ruins.

And I sat there at the patio, while the whole of universe, was getting engulfed, in the whitest whiteness of snow. Down, near my rough paw, is soft snow, mannering a fidgeting embryo. I monitored the snow that plunged, on the soil of my backyard, and realized it melting fast. Was that the temperature or, my eyes on it overcast? While I think of this melted exalt, I am obliged to ask, What ought happens to the thoughts? Where do they get tossed? When they are forgot? Scorched? Scoffed? Deformed? Unadorned?

And it was true that if you categorized people by which Disney character they were, then Jonah would always be Bambi. Motherless, graceful, unobtrusive. Ethan--Jiminy Cricket, the annoying little conscience... just look at Ash. In the Disney hierarchy she was Snow White... He paused to wonder which Disney character Jules was, and realized that Disney did not make women or girls or woodland animals that were like her.

I believe that in a way, sadness is happiness for there can be no wrong without right, no light without dark, no success without failure, no relief without pain, no love without hatred and no Snow White without the evil queen.

As I opened my eyes and witnessed the whites; my world transformed and I looked at everything in a different light!

As they reached the entrance to the gardens, where more subjects were waiting, a cardinal flew down and landed on the stone steps that she had cleaned so many times in her life. It tweeted a song of happiness, and Snow could only imagine it saying one thing: I love you. For her mother would always be with her. "I feel as if I've been waiting for this moment forever," Snow confessed to Henri. But now there would be no more waiting. Snow White's moment had arrived. And if it wasn't quite "happily ever after," it was pretty close.

During Snow White's story, her mother had somehow survived sharing a castle with the Greatest Evil the World Has Ever Known and come out of it not only okay but Happily Ever After. What advice would her mother give? Apple knew because Snow White had cross-stitched the words on a pillow and propped it up in the informal receiving room: When Life Is All Dark Woods And Poisoned Apples, Remember You Have Friends. Snow White had stitched messages on other pillows, too, such as: Squirrels Will Never Let You Down, Unless They're Hibernating; There Are Always Birds; Nature Loves A Broom; Love Is Knowing A rabbit Needs You; Hugs Are How It's Done; Double Hugs Are For The Grumpy; Trees And Dogs Are Happy, So Start Barking; and others. Honestly, it was hard to find a sofa in the enormous White Castle that didn't sport a cross-stitched pillow. But the "Remember You Have Friends" one offered the most insight to Apple at the moment.

Flakes fell softly, covering the already frozen castle grounds. When she stuck out her tongue, she could feel the flakes land on it. The little droplets of frozen water had the same name she did: Snow. Was she named for the snow or was the snow named for her? That's what she wondered. She was a princess, so the weather could have been named after her. Then again, snow had been around a lot longer than she had. She was only seven.

For a killer, you are not overly ruthless. You should probably work on that before you next decide to kill someone.

I can defeat my stepmother well enough on my own, thank you.” Cedric laughed. “Ah yes, that was made exceedingly apparent when you were forced to flee from your castle in the dead of night.

If Snow kept weaving around the corners, she would reach the center of the maze and her mother's beloved aviary. The two-story wrought iron dome looked like a giant birdcage. It was her mother's pride and joy and the first thing she had commissioned when she became queen. She'd always had a love of birds. Snow's mother kept several species inside the netted walls, and she patiently explained each bird's nature to Snow in detail. The two had spent countless hours watching the aviary, with Snow naming all of the creatures inside it. Her favorite was Snowball, a small white canary.

I peered at Farrah and suddenly understood why the Seven Dwarves had sung their song. "Hi...ho.

I think I know more about you at age seven than you do," Henri teased. "Do you, now?" she asked, happy he couldn't see her blushing since she sat in front of him on their steed. "Yes," he said confidently. "I know you always preferred the colors blue and yellow to any other. You were excellent at hide-and-seek. You hated cold porridge, and my personal favorite- you named every horse in the royal stables and liked to put bows on them when allowed." She colored some more and burst out laughing. This she did not remember! "I did not! Did I?" Henri laughed, too. "Apparently you did, driving the royal seamstress crazy with your requests for ribbons and bows for the royal steeds.

I thought I had found my true vocation and happiness, but in a strange way, they were just like my stepmother because they didn't want me to grow up either. This is really important you understand, Virginia, because I had gone from something very bad to something very good, but it was only halfway right. They loved me, but they wanted me to stay small like them.

I told him of the queen's refusal to see me, and"- he hesitated, his cheeks coloring slightly- "about the beautiful maiden I met in the castle gardens." "You did?" she asked, unsure why she was so taken with the fact that he'd mentioned her. "Yes," Henri smiled shyly. "Oh, brother," she heard Grumpy mumble.

A princess born of blood and betrayal. Every bit as beautiful as her mother and every bit as doomed to be hated.

If you're still hungry, I have some apples for dessert." She held one out that was a mix of reds and greens with a hint of gold. "These are Red Fire apples." Henri took a bite. "That's heaven. What did you call it? A Red Fire? I've never had anything like it." "They're only grown in our kingdom. My mother was the one who created the hybrid," Snow said proudly. She used to beg her parents to tell her the story of their courtship over and over. She could picture her mother laughing. Snow, there must be something else you want to talk about! "It's what you get when you cross red apple seeds with some pears and green apple seeds," Snow told Henri now. "She came up with it at the apple orchard she helped tend when she was my age. My father loved them and had them planted all over the countryside." Snow picked up one and stared at it. "It was the Red Fire apple that endeared my mother to my father, actually. He adored her apples." Henri smirked. "So it was love at first bite?" She laughed. "I suppose so!

If the queen catches you in here again, Princess, she'll sentence you to do the dishes right alongside me! she heard another voice ring out. No one was there, but Snow knew the voice. It was Mrs. Kindred, the cook who had survived her aunt's dismissals over the years. When Snow's mother was alive, she'd encouraged her daughter to be friendly with those who helped them in the castle, and Mrs. Kindred had always been Snow's favorite person to chat with. She could see herself sitting on a chair, no more than six or seven, watching Mrs. Kindred chop onions, carrots, and leeks and throw them all into a giant pot of broth. She and Mrs. Kindred only stole a few moments together most days now- she suspected her aunt must have forbidden the cook from talking to her, what with how Mrs. Kindred always quickly sent Snow on her way- but back then she had always peppered the cook with questions. ("How do you cut the carrots so small? Why do leeks have sand in them? What spices are you going to add? How do you know how much to put in?") On one such occasion, she'd been such a distraction that Mrs. Kindred had finally picked her up, holding her high on her broad chest, and let her stir the pot herself. Eventually, she taught her how to dice and chop, too, since Snow wouldn't stop talking. By suppertime, young Snow had convinced herself she'd made the whole meal. She had been proud, too, carrying the dishes out to the dining table that night.

I'll show Dunky he's not the only one in the family who can rush foolishly into danger!

I'm not sure she's going to honor that agreement, especially if you bring up the former king," Snow said thoughtfully. "But perhaps you could offer her something more in return. Something that lets her know that trading with your kingdom is something she couldn't possibly refuse. Is there another export you have that would be worthy to her?" Henri paused for a moment. "We have a lot of cattle. We'd certainly be willing to trade some of our stock." He looked at her. "You're very wise, Snow White." She looked down at her clogs. "I like figuring out things and keeping my mind busy.

I prescribe a quick jerk off in the shower and a return to sanity. (Dr. Hugo Peralta)

I stand before her, meeting her eye to eye and nose to nose. My head takes a slight bow as I clench my fist. “I should have just killed you like any other bloodsucking vampire.” “So why didn’t you?” She tiptoes, clenching her first as well. I have to admit. She is a much better version of the Snow White you see in a Disney movie. She’s kind of kickass. I like it, but I will never let her know.“Why do you care so much about me then? Ha?” She asks. "I should have killed you before," I repeated while all I could do is wonder how I'd ever fallen in love with a monster girl.

Magic is a naughty beast.

Magic Mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?