Princess Quotes - Page 18

None of [the books are] worth reading. There are no fairy tales, no faerie tails, no sword-swinging princesses or lightning-throwing gods.

[I have] been in love with one princess or another almost all my life, and I hope I shall go on so, till I die, being firmly persuaded, that if ever I do a mean action, it must be in some interval betwixt one passion and another.

Hunky Heroes, rescuing distressed women, captive princesses, and girls without wheels since 1684. p. 450

Everyone wants to grow up to be a faerie princess. Trust me, It's overrated

I did a lot of lying. I went through a big lying phase when I was in like third and fourth grade. I told all my friends I was in Les Misérables, and I was not. I also told them I was an Indian princess. Also not an Indian princess.

I mean, I was first offered Princess Astra.

Oh, I have to say Romana; she was much more fun to do but I did enjoy the Princess when she was turning bad.

If you're late to the rescue, the imprisoned princess will just have to escape on her own!

I wouldn't want to play a normal princess who always walks around in nice dresses. I never had a connection to it when I was a child, I preferred playing with plastic soldiers.

Remember my titles? I don't get poisoned,I do the poisoning.I'm the princess of it.

Loads of weirdos send me things, like strange bits of leather. And then there was the guy who thought I was having his baby. Apparently, he's been writing to Princess Anne too, so I clearly belong to a good, erm, sub-section of society.

I met Princess Anne once at a charity do and she said Blue Peter made her realise TV was all lies - she'd gone to Africa on safari with Valerie Singleton and they didn't see a thing, but when she watched it on TV they'd edited in some lion cubs. I was like, 'Oh dear.' I still don't know if she was joking or not.

I guessed princesses-in-training didn’t wear pants.

My shoes I got to pick. I chose worn-out red flats. I figured I should make it clear from the start that I wasn’t princess material.

Listen to me, kitten. Win or lose, you’ll always be a princess to me.

The prime ideal is a princess of the world of ideals. Her father is the prince 'Point' in the world of geometry. Her mother is the princess 'Prime Numbers' in the world of numbers. She inherits the purity from her parents.

If there is a gay army, I am their warrior princess.

You must learn to know the difference between tales and the truth, my Liza, she would say. Fairy tales have a habit of ending too soon. They never show what happens afterwards when the prince and princess ride off the page.

...which fairy-tale princess ever chose her maid over her prince?

[A businessmen in plane after 9\11] asked me, "What are you working on now?" And I said I was writing a story about a mouse who tries to save a princess. I was mortified. Here the world is falling down around us, and I'm trying to tell the story about a mouse who saves a princess. I said "It doesn't matter at all now."

During the night, while Bull and Lucy slept, Edward, with ever-open eyes, stared up at the constellations. He said their names, and then he said the names of the people who loved him. He started with Abilene, and then went on to Nellie and Lawrence and from there to Bull and Lucy, and then he ended again with Abilene: Abilene, Nellie, Lawrence, Bull, Lucy, Abilene. See? Edward told Pellegrina. I am not like the princess. I know about love.

Once there was a princess who was very beautiful. She shone bright as the stars on a moonless night. But what difference did it make that she was beautiful? None. No difference." Why did it make no difference?" asked Abilene. Because," said Pellegrina, "She was a princess who loved no one and cared nothing for love, even though there were many who loved her.

It's a strange new world out there and the rules have changed: It's every princess for herself.

I was minding my own buisness long before you and the princess started humping like rabbits.

Who’s that? That’s the King. Who’s he? The Duke. Who’s she? The Princess. What do they call you? The Count. What does that make me? Umm…how about the Peasant? And the name stuck.