Best 9 quotes in «the beast quotes» category

It was, he felt, a persistent flaw in his wife's otherwise practical and sensible character that she believed, against all evidence, that he was a man of many talents. He knew he had hidden depths. There was nothing in them that he'd like to see float to the surface. They contained things that should be left to lie.

And John Kearns whispered into my ear: "Do you see it now? *You* are the nest. *You* are the hatchling. *You* are the chrysalis. *You* are the progeny. *You* are the rot that falls from the stars. All of us--you and I and poor, dear Pellinore. Behold the face of the magnificum, child. And despair." Though I was sickened by the sight, I looked. In the bower of the beast at the top of the world, I beheld the face of the magnificum, and I did not turn away.

Would you come with me, Belle? Help me do this? We may not succeed... I may always be a beast." "No," Belle said with a smile, touching him on the nose. "You will always be my prince." "Well, you're not exactly what I wanted out of a son-in-law- because of your parents, not because of your form, I mean," Rosalind said quickly. "But you're certainly a fair bit better than that Gaston fellow... what is his story, if I may ask? Was he also a patient at the asylum?" Belle almost choked on her laughter. "No, and that was not the first time he proposed to me." "I think," Maurice said, putting his arms around the couple, "we should all have one last night together before you start out... just the four of us. There are a lot of stories to tell before we see you again." "And most of them," Belle observed with a smile, "seem to almost have a happy ending.

Strictly by accident, Scott stumbled upon the most advanced weapon in the ultrarunner's arsenal: instead of cringing from fatigue, you embrace it. You refuse to let it go. You get know it so well, you're not afraid of it anymore[...]You can't hate the Beast and expect to beat it; the only way to truly conquer something, as every great philosopher and geneticist will tell you, is to love it.

There was always one. Every village seemed to have one young woman who believed her beauty could somehow magically protect her from a monster. Somehow, they would be special enough to tame the Beast. They were always wrong.

And He will judge and will forgive all, the good and the evil, the wise and the meek . . . And when He has done with all of them, then He will summon us. ‘You too come forth,’ He will say, ‘Come forth ye drunkards, come forth, ye weak ones, come forth, ye children of shame!’ And we shall all come forth, without shame and shall stand before him. And He will say unto us, ‘Ye are swine, made in the Image of the Beast and with his mark; but come ye also!’ And the wise ones and those of understanding will say, ‘Oh Lord, why dost Thou receive these men?’ And He will say, ‘This is why I receive them, oh ye wise, this is why I receive them, oh ye of understanding, that not one of them believed himself to be worthy of this.’ And He will hold out His hands to us and we shall fall down before him . . . and we shall weep . . . and we shall understand all things! Then we shall understand everything! . . . and all will understand

If he were... a prince... a real one, a human one... would he get to just go inside with her on his arm? What would her father say? A prince on the arm of his daughter? What would happen then? Could they... could they marry? There was no one left in the kingdom to object to him marrying below his station. Would Belle even like him? Did she like him now? She hadn't pulled away when he had kissed her, before... and she had kissed him just now. That was something, right?

Dark golden strands of hair fall over the face of a fallen angel. Strong jaw, proud nose, dark brows and a hard, twisted mouth. But his eyes… They aren’t what I expected to see. They are empty. Cold. Eyes of a true monster. Promise me. I promised. And I can see it now. This is not my Beast. He sneers. “You’re no savior. I know exactly what you are. You’re the bitch that thinks to banish me. From my own house, no less. Harridan,” he accuses, his fury rising with each word. My Beast could never be so cruel. “Trespasser. Interloper. Whore!” No, this is not my Beast. But this was my Beast. Before he became cursed.

Dawn. The transformation is gruesome and brings me to my feet. My legs nearly buckle, but I stumble to the doorway, terrified for the man-beast in the destroyed room. He screams and roars, shaking with pain, and grief, and such horrible shame. My heart bleeds, weeping for him. I fall to my knees, helpless to do anything but watch. When it is finally, blessedly over, my Beast bows his head, looking utterly exhausted. His rumbling breaths are a comfort like nothing I’ve ever known. I cannot give up on the monster of a man. For this gentle, tormented Beast, I must fight on. I must find a way to free him.