Liz Braswell Quotes & Sayings

Perhaps, if you explain to the judge, he will be lenient. He will... weigh your circumstances. But that is his job. Mine is to bring you in."
"Really? I thought your job was to eat baklava. You're slowing down, old man," Aladdin taunted. With a howl of rage Rasoul brought his scimitar down as hard as he could. — Liz Braswell

There are a lot of things that aren't fair, Aladdin."
She drew back from him, still holding his hands, and looked into his eyes.
"That's just the way life is- which is why it's so important for us Street Rats to take care of each other. That's a good instinct you have. You should always look out for your friends and your family. Because no one is looking out for us.
But that doesn't mean you should become a thief."
Aladdin looked at the ground, chagrined.
She put her hand under his chin to make him look up at her.
"Don't let life's unfairness, don't let how poor you are decide who you are. You choose who you will be, Aladdin. Will you be a hero who looks after the weak and powerless? Will you be a thief? Will you be a beggar- or worse? It's up to you, not the things-or people- around you. You can choose to be something more. — Liz Braswell

He threw my father into a cold prison cell, then took me in his place! I think tying him up in front of a warm roaring fire is plenty generous, considering! — Liz Braswell

...and you cannot blame an entire group for the actions of one. — Liz Braswell

I don't speak well as the pictures in my head do. I can't... fully... the possibilities... It's too much to explain all at once. It would be world-changing. — Liz Braswell

There was a not-quite-secret stairway in the back of the library building that led up to a balcony bordered by delicately arched windows. These looked out over a small courtyard lined with sour-orange trees. Across from this were the royal baths- which connected directly to the audience chamber, banquet hall, and eventually the throne room itself. That had sounded strange until Jasmine explained to Aladdin that sultans often entertained foreign guests and consulted with top advisers while enjoying a pleasant mint-scented sweat in the steam rooms. — Liz Braswell

Belle wanted more. She wanted to see more. She wanted to travel to the lands she had read about, where people ate with delicate sticks, not forks.
At the very least, she wanted to be carried there in her imagination. — Liz Braswell

Prince,' he could, at this point, take or leave.
The rest of his life with Jasmine, however... that was worth everything. — Liz Braswell

She had read too many romantic novels of a dark and dreary bent to really be surprised - The Castle of Otranto was one of her favorite English reads. For all intents and purposes, she was the overwrought, terrified heroine wandering around a cursed castle at night, seeing things in the shadows, jumping at noises. Plus — Liz Braswell

But mostly Aladdin thought about Princess Jasmine. If he had never met her, he wouldn't have been thrown into prison by the royal guards, he wouldn't have fallen in with the crazy, oil old man, and he wouldn't be there now, trying to dig himself out of a black, suffocating pit in the middle of the desert.
And still he wouldn't have changed a thing.
He thought about her eyes when she was looking into his. He thought about her eyes when she had seen the beggar children. He had witnessed the single moment she began to comprehend the world he lived in. He replayed the graceful skill with which she handled her tiny silver dagger. He thought about her descending from the sky at the end of her pole vault like a warrior angel.
Thinking about all that made him forget that his fingers were rubbed raw and the inside of his mouth felt like the sand he dug through. — Liz Braswell

And Jasmine, royal princess and daughter of the sultan..." the little old religious man trailed off, confused. "I'm sorry, daughter. I don't remember all of your names. Rose of Agrabah? Twice Great-Granddaughter of Elisheba the Wise?"
"I think it was Elisheba," Jasmine said thoughtfully. — Liz Braswell

It wasn't enough to catch a glimpse of these lands and ideas through the small window of the pages she turned. She wanted to step through and feel the yellow waters of the Yangtze herself, to hear the celestial music of foreign pipes, to taste the foods described by adventurers who traveled purposefully into the areas on maps labeled 'Here be tygres. — Liz Braswell

Every age has its darkness. — Liz Braswell

Cooking. Reading. Is there anything you can't do?"
Belle grabbed his big paw and shoved it into the water as well. "Oh yes, I'm a veritable domestic demigoddess," she said archly. "You should see me turn invisible and walk on water. — Liz Braswell

I don't see a purse of gold coins on you, smart guy. How do you pay for things?"
Aladdin found himself- quite possibly for the first time ever- speechless.
"That's... clever of you," he finally said. "But that's totally different! I only steal because otherwise I'd starve!"
"So it's all right for you to steal- because you need food. But it's not all right for me, who didn't know any better? And was just trying to help a little child? — Liz Braswell

And then... she heard voices. Her aunt's voice... 'Your daughter?' Maleficent asked, her voice rising in dramatic surprise. 'Really? What kind of loving mother hands her daughter off to the fairies for sixteen years?'... Maleficent swung around, arching her arms and fingers like an animal, lowering her yellow eyes to their level. — Liz Braswell

How could Belle, a lonely little bookworm of a country girl, ever come from someone so great that she meted out curses and blessings like candy and then took over an entire castle with her presence? — Liz Braswell

Agrabah is yours."
"No," Jasmine said, looking out at the sea of guild leaders, and the thieves, and the genie, and all the people of her city.
"Agrabah is ours. — Liz Braswell

Maybe he just didn't know how to ask nicely. No. Belle shook her head. She had read about this. The victims of kidnapping often wound up sympathizing with the perpetrator. It was a sickness, a very scientifically predictable one. This was the eighteenth century. The age of reason. — Liz Braswell

The Enchantress put a spell on it so it would age with me- and show me how I would look if I was still human. If I hadn't failed her test. I'm... always reminded of who I could have been."
Belle cocked her head and really looked at the picture. It was painted by a consummate artist; the velvet on the Prince's jacket looked soft and furry enough to touch. But those eyes...
"I'm not so sure it should make you feel bad," she finally said. "The man in that picture looks contemptuous. Self-important."
The Beast looked at her, shocked.
"Well, he does," she said, waving a hand to indicate the Prince's face. "It's supposed to show what you would look like on the outside. But does it show how you really are now, on the inside? — Liz Braswell

The wardrobe threw open her doors. Inside were a few interesting things- one of the largest, clearest mirrors Belle had ever seen, some moths, and an extremely pretty collection of gowns that would have made the blond triplets, Paulette, Claudette, and Laurette, swoon.
Belle examined the dresses skeptically. Of course, if things went the way they did in fairy tales, they would all fit her perfectly. The question was, was this a "Bluebeard's Wives" situation? Or something else? — Liz Braswell

A man who has the attentions of an attractive royal princess should probably keep his eyes to himself."
"I'm just kidding, Morgiana. I really only have eyes for Jasmine," he said seriously. Then: "No offense."
"None was ever taken. You're too skinny for my liking, anyway. Put some meat on your bones and then we'll talk. — Liz Braswell

It would be nice if the streets were free and safe. But please, take this bread and cheese. I'm not demanding your loyalty in return. I just want my people fed. — Liz Braswell

Trying to steel her nerves, she walked forward more forcefully, as if this were her choice. As if she were just going to seek out a mystery she forgot. Not a scared, lonely girl in her nightgown with a candle, like some daft heroine from one of the lighter romance books she read. This thought, too, gave her courage; she was Belle, not an idiot. — Liz Braswell

Belle decided to file the way the Beast said "meat" later to think about more fully. He was a several-hundred-pound beast and obviously didn't eat toast to keep his weight up. — Liz Braswell

So Jafar knows I'm in the city- he probably already knew that. He doesn't know where I'll be next. Because... I never stay still. I never sleep in the same place twice. I move like the wind and the shadows. I am sheltered by the good and faithful all over Agrabah, in every neighborhood.
Go crawling back to your master, scum. Tell him that I am the eyes and ears of my people, and they do not want him. — Liz Braswell

When other children dreamed of mansions with fountains and big silky beds and servants to do their bidding, this was what Belle dreamed about. The money to buy all the books she ever wanted from all over the world - and a place to keep them. — Liz Braswell

Belle, girl, you can't find real adventures that way. You have to go out into the world... you have to meet people..."
"You don't," she protested.
"I did when I was younger," he said gently. "That's how I met your mother. True love doesn't just fall into your lap. You have to go out and find your other half."
"But your... my... she fell out of your lap. She just kept going. — Liz Braswell

From naive, lonely princess to winner of hearts and minds less than a month, Jasmine managed to make people feel at ease with her while still maintaining her rule as leader. — Liz Braswell

You don't get it. They gave me beauty and song, and then I was left in the woods to grow up for sixteen years before being handed over to you. I don't know anything about ruling. I don't even really know what taxes are. I was in the woods in the real world. In the dreamworld, I hid like a mouse and then organized balls and parties. — Liz Braswell

The heat of the day had long since retreated into the desert, and the city, which had drowsed through the hot afternoon, was finally coming alive. The streets filled with people drinking tea and gossiping, laughing, and visiting friends. Old men played chatrang on boards set up outside cafes; children stayed up long past their bedtimes playing their own games on the sidewalks. Men and women bought rose-flavored ices and trinkets from nighttime vendors. — Liz Braswell

Interesting. And does Abu have anything else to say?" she asked, leaning closer.
Cinnamon. Her breath smelled of cinnamon. He could even smell her skin at that distance. Though he wasn't one normally prone to poetry, he could only think of a fresh desert breeze that carried a whisper of cypress and sandalwood.
"He wishes there was something he could do to help..." That at least was honest. He wasn't exactly sure how kissing would help her. He just knew it was going to happen or he was going to die.
"Tell him I just might take him up on that," the girl said, closing her eyes and tilting her head.
Aladdin put his arm around her back and prepared for the best thing that had ever happened to him. — Liz Braswell

So, Royal Princess- excuse me, Sultana Jasmine- coming to admire your soon-to-be kingdom?" he said with a smile.
"Yes, I want to make some changes. I think it could use a few more lights," she said, finger to her chin in contemplation. "Torches there, there, and there. And maybe a different shade of white this time. More 'eggshell' or 'moon.' Less 'sand.'"
"Definitely less sand," Aladdin agreed. — Liz Braswell

The bigger the person, the more their actions affect the world. If they live, perhaps they will learn that"
"And if everyone dies, no one learns anything — Liz Braswell

She walked to the doorway and looked up at the sky; even with the dust she could see Hormozd, the large red planet, just beginning to sink behind the mountains. On the other side of the sky, the heavens were a shade lighter than they had been just a while ago. The sun was preparing to rise. "I will do what needs to be done."
"Of course, Princess. You would... you would make the warriors of old proud. — Liz Braswell

Whether you're Huguenot or Catholic or Jewish or gypsy or short or have dark skin- or blue skin. Everyone is different. Each person has his or her own soul and is master of his or her own destiny. — Liz Braswell

Magic comes back to you, just as the actions of people do. — Liz Braswell

Don't judge a book by its cover. — Liz Braswell

Before I ran away, my closest friend was a tiger."
Aladdin laughed softly. "Before I met you, my closest friend was a monkey." He kissed her on the forehead. "We're quite a pair. — Liz Braswell

What would Belle do?
She would take stock of the situation and think of all the resources available to her and then make use of them in a logical and consistent manner. — Liz Braswell

She had often dreamed of going to a teahouse to play chess or argue esoteric scholarly points with students and feisty old men and women. It was a dream forbidden to a royal princess, of course. — Liz Braswell

You know, I've never known much about fashion, living in the country and all," she said innocently. "What sort of hat would a lady like myself wear to an afternoon tea outside, in the garden, with other ladies? Assuming I'm ever invited, of course."
"Oh, that's easy... a lovely straw number, with a wide brim, en grecque curls if you're dining amongst the ruins, or piles of flowers and feathers, and tipped, just so..."
Belle allowed herself a little smile.
"No one has worn hats like that, even in this remote part of the world, for at lest ten years. Not even Madame Bussard has pulled one out of her own wardrobe recently. And she is very thrifty with her accessories. So whatever happened here must have happened at least a decade ago. — Liz Braswell

Let's not leave arguing."
"I'd rather not leave at all. — Liz Braswell

She felt like one of the luckless peasant girls in some Russian hagiography, left to fend for her family in deep Siberian snows.
Ever a logical girl, she didn't like where the hints all around were leading her. — Liz Braswell

The stable boy whose charge is this horse will receive fifty lashes for losing him," the old man said, cackling in delight as he gripped the reins.
"We will be back before dawn if your stories are true, Grandfather," Aladdin said, dislike for his partner growing. "And I will tip the poor boy as well. — Liz Braswell

Her eyes were full of hate. Full. And... at the same time, empty. Soulless. Like those horrible creatures she keeps around her. The dragon was frightening... but Maleficent, she was bone-chilling. — Liz Braswell

She wished a silly, girlish wish: that she'd had a chance to really fly on the carpet when it was still a carpet. With Aladdin. Zooming through the night air like she was doing now, but with his warm arms to hold on to and the entire world at their feet. They could have gone anywhere they wanted. They would have been completely free. — Liz Braswell

Books can tell you almost everything that mankind knows. Or imagines. — Liz Braswell

She wished, just once, someone would show an interest in the same things she did — Liz Braswell

Aurora looked into the mirror and smiled. She was pretty. She was a royal princess. There was about to be a ball. These were things she could, once in a while, allow herself to be happy about. — Liz Braswell

Maurice," she croaked one last time, as loudly as she could. His eyes widened. "Rosalind?" he murmured. Then his face went red in a mask of rage and fury. "ROSALIND!" He — Liz Braswell

You think I'm pretty?" she asked, eyes wide.
Aladdin paused with his mouth hanging open, unsure what to say.
"Ha! I'm kidding, of course you do," Jasmine said, cracking a very unprincessy smile. She pushed him on his shoulder and for a moment Aladdin was reminded, not unfavorably, of Morgiana. "You're as easy to read as a book in Aramaic. — Liz Braswell

He first saw her in a ray of sunshine. She was dancing and singing in a forest clearing, her golden hair sparkling as it swirled around her. Her voice was the very essence of a happy, sunny day distilled into song. She was as weightless on her toes as golden motes in a drowsy beam, floating their way up to the ceiling. — Liz Braswell

Would her mother have taken her into the rose garden and taught her all of the names, would she have plucked a blossom and placed it in her daughter's hair? Would she have made rose hip tea for her daughter?
Would she have made raspberry leaf tea for Belle when she first began to have her monthly blood? 'So that thirteen-year-old me wouldn't have had to research the possible balms and soothing medicines for it by myself? — Liz Braswell

She watched the children and he watched her face as she tried to process everything she had just learned. She was innocent; that was true. But there was intelligence in those large eyes. She picked up things very, very quickly. It was more than Aladdin could usually say about those who weren't Street Rats. What a waste, for some father to trap such a smart, interesting girl behind a garden gate, like a prized animal... — Liz Braswell

Your generation has no sense of responsibility to a group, a calling higher than your own. You treat random friends like family and family like strangers. You want to dither your life away, pursuing one pleasure after another. That is not a path; that is a waste of life. — Liz Braswell

She wore a tan robe and headscarf, the clothes of a local... but didn't feel like a market regular. She moved slowly and gazed at everything with a child's wonder. Her eyes were large and clear, her hair as black as midnight. She had a warm smile on her pretty lips and was obviously murmuring 'hellos' and 'excuse mes' to people who really didn't care or want to talk. She walked with the grace of a cloud in the wind, like her body weighed nothing at all, and held her head high with easy dignity. Easy.
Aladdin felt his heart contract. He had never seen her- or anyone like her- before.
When the girl adjusted her scarf, she revealed an intricate diadem in her hair that had a ridiculously sized emerald in it.
'Ah, a rich girl, out for a day of shopping in the market without her servants. Living dangerously, playing hooky. — Liz Braswell

It wasn't unreasonable to imagine her father, having noticed the mysterious ruins, deciding on a whim to investigate them. 'Like Don Quixote and his golden helmet of Mambrino,' she thought, looking at his yellow hat. 'Off on a silly quest. — Liz Braswell

Spread over what must have been at least a hectare or two was the most beautiful garden he had ever seen.
There was an entire miniature forest of cedar, cypress, and other sweet-smelling pines that couldn't normally live in the hot and dry Agrabah. There were formal rows of roses and other delicately petaled flowers. There was a garden just of mountain plants. There was a pool filled with flowering white lilies and their pads, and pink lotuses taller than most men. There was a fountain as big as a house and shaped like an egg. There was a delicate white aviary that looked like a giant's birdcage. Strangely, there were no birds in it.
And everywhere, entwined around every tiny building and every balustrade and every topiary ball, was jasmine. White jasmine, pink jasmine, yellow jasmine, night-flowering jasmine... the smell was heady enough to make Aladdin feel a little drunk.
Jasmine.
This was her garden. — Liz Braswell

She was the royal princess. She had to start acting like one. She had to stop talking about being trapped, about being handed over from one man to another. She had to start acting.
She had to start being the hero. — Liz Braswell

The genie leaned forward to whisper to them.
"Sorry. You guys seem like a nice couple."
"The sultan is my father," Jasmine snapped.
"Oh. Whoops. My bad. It's not so unusual, you know- old kings, young girls. That whole May-December thing. Not totally my fault."
"At least I won't be married to anyone against my will now. Not even Jafar," Jasmine said grimly.
"Yeah, how about we not give Mr. Revengey-pants here ideas?" the genie suggested archly. "There's a substantial legal and magical difference between forcing to love and forcing to marry."
He had a point. Jasmine kept her mouth shut. — Liz Braswell

When was the last time those two kids had a full meal or a good, long, clean drink of water? This was the way he had been as a child. Nothing had changed. The sultan still sat in his beautiful golden-domed palace, playing with his toys while people starved on the streets. Nothing would ever change until the sultan- or someone-woke up and saw how his people were suffering. — Liz Braswell

The magic mirror," the Beast said, eyebrows raising.
"Yes! We could consult it!"
"Great, let's go consult the magic mirror," she repeated, unable to believe she was saying those words aloud. "Why not. And maybe afterwards we can go visit the witch in her woods and break off a bit of her candy house for a snack."
The Beast looked at her, confused, his eyebrows rising even higher, like dark clouds above his blue eyes.
"Never mind," Belle said with a sigh. "It was a joke. — Liz Braswell

It's not bravery if you don't feel fear, right? If you're not afraid, then you're not really forcing yourself to do something brave. — Liz Braswell

Belle's mind populated the castle with royalty from all the eras she could imagine:
Recent ones with great powdered wigs and hats in the shapes of fanciful things like ships, great skirts that billowed out, ugly garish makeup on the faces of those who gossiped behind embroidered silk fans.
Renaissance rulers with thick curled collars and poison rings, intellect and conspiracy at every dinner.
Ancient kings and queens in long, heavy dresses and cloaks, wise looks on their faces and solid gold crowns on their heads, innocents in a world they believed to possess unicorns and dragons, and maps whose seas ran off at the edges, beyond where the tygres were.
Of course, maybe around here there were dragons and unicorns. Who knew? They had talking teacups. — Liz Braswell

This is dumb,' her inner voice persisted. 'Lying in this- albeit ridiculously comfy and beautiful- bed when you're in a castle with talking teapots and wardrobes who gossip. Did Gulliver do this when a prisoner at the Brobdingnagian court? Just sulk and lie around? No, he enjoyed the adventure while doing whatever he could to get home! — Liz Braswell

In adventure books there weren't awkward pauses or embarrassing social scenes. In morality plays and farces there were rarely serious discussions of racial tension, mob mentality, pogroms, or plague. In scientific books there were no dinnertime revelations of a terrible matter. Life is a strange mix of all these genres... and it doesn't have nearly as neat and happy ending as you often get in books. — Liz Braswell

I cannot expect people to do for me what I cannot. — Liz Braswell

If she actually had friends, maybe she wouldn't have turned out so nasty and evil. — Liz Braswell

Life is a strange mixture of all of these genres, she mused, and it doesn't have nearly as neat and happy an ending as you often get in books. — Liz Braswell

Animals raise their children, too. I don't know why they keep them around. Kill 'em and be done with it. — Liz Braswell

She turned to go. The Beast would freeze if she left him there. He had saved her life. Cursing, — Liz Braswell

She should have been afraid. He was a big, violent beast who could easily kill her a dozen different ways. But he had saved her from the wolves. Surely he didn't mean to hurt her? And he spoke like a mostly normal human. Something that could be reasoned with.
She thought about Gaston, the only other beastlike thing she knew who spoke.
He would have been a lot slower on the uptake about everything. Their conversation would have been a lot longer and more frustrating. And he would have tried to marry her at her some point. He was human and utterly impossible to communicate or negotiate with. — Liz Braswell

Amor does not vincit omnia, you ignorant man... when the woman doesn't amat you back! — Liz Braswell

Belle, go. If I was your age, I wouldn't have hesitated for a moment. You will always come back here, and I will always be here. And we will have those talks we need. Everyone should have a journey - and everyone should also have a home, too. Go out into the world for adventure, come home for love. — Liz Braswell

You had a magic mirror that let you see life outside your tiny world. Your castle. I had books. Reading them is like traveling to other places. Being other people. Living other lives. It made life far less...lonely. — Liz Braswell