Aladdin Genie Quotes

I sat up. Slowly. Between the belly dancing, the fire, the visit to Dave and it's aftermath, the night had taken its toll. You look like crap!" Cole said merrily. "I like the hair though." He made a camera frame with his thumbs and forefingers and in the genie voice from Aladdin said, "Now what does this say to me? Homeless women? Tornado victim? Britney Spears? I've got it! Preschooler who's misplaced her gum!" I regarded him balefully. "You're a morning person, aren't you?" You make that sound like a bad thing." Not if you stop talking.

More often than not, we want him to have fairy wings and spread fairy dust and shine like a precious little star, dispensing nothing but good times on everyone, like some kind of hybrid of Tinker Bell and Aladdin’s Genie. But the God of the Bible, this God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob, is a pillar of fire and a column of smoke.

Sometimes you stay bottled up because you know the responsibility’s in your hands, rubbing you like a lamp, and you’re the only genie that can and must rise and expand in order to grant your every wish.

Consider the millions who are buying those modern Aladdin’s lamps called e-readers. These magical devices, ever more beautiful and nimble in design, have only to be lightly rubbed for the genie of literature to be summoned.

She really was the genie to my Aladdin, although as far as I could recall, I had never rubbed the magic lamp.

Like it or not, I have to obey his command.  That's right. Karl is my Aladdin and I'm the fuckin' genie.  There are a few caveats though: I don't have any magical powers. Wishes are unlimited. And Karl is an asshole.

Nope.' He grabs my hand and places it over his heart. 'I already know the truth. We’re dating.' His eyebrows waggle. 'Exclusively.' 'Gross.' 'Do you want to wear my letterman’s jacket?' 'I’m going to vomit.' '“Should I buy you a corsage?' 'Seriously. Gagging.' 'Okay, no corsage.' He laughs. 'Just the matching tattoos, then?' 'Seriously.' I fight the urge to stomp my foot. 'Let it go, Parker. Let it go.' 'Hey, Elsa, don’t quote Frozen to me unless you’re prepared to listen to the entire soundtrack in my car on the way to Seaport.' I stare up at him. 'I’m not sure whether I should be disturbed or turned on by the fact that you know all the words to Let It Go.' He grins. 'Definitely turned on.' 'Downloaded in your iTunes library, no doubt.' I shake my head. 'This is nearly as disturbing as the time I learned the song A Whole New World from Aladdin is a metaphor for mind-blowing sex.' 'I’m sorry, what?' 'I can open your eyes? Lead you wonder by wonder? Over, sideways, and under?' I snort. 'Come on. That’s basically soft-core porn.' 'Thank you, Zoe, for ruining a beloved Disney classic for me.' 'Anytime.' 'For the record…' He trails off. I wince, anticipating the worst. 'What?' 'I’ll take you on my magic carpet ride any time you want, snookums.' 'Pass.' 'So, that’s a no on rubbing my lamp then?' 'You know, I think I’ll just find my own way to Nate’s…' I turn and start walking to the elevator. 'Oh, come on.' Parker twines his fingers with mine and pushes the call button, humming under his breath. 'I’m a genie in a bottle, baby, gotta rub—' 'AH!' I stare at him in horror as the elevator arrives. 'So help me god if you start singing vintage Christina Aguilera lyrics right now, I will murder you with my bare hands.

Is it my imagination or is the flying carpet going a little faster today?” Jonah asks as we coast through the desert. I’m sitting up front with him. Aladdin and Prince are behind us. Prince’s ears flap in the breeze. There was no ear flapping yesterday. “It is!” I say. “And a little higher, too. You’re definitely getting the hang of magic-carpet flying.” We only bumped into two people on the way. “So since I mastered that, can I wear the ring now?” Jonah asks.

Aladdin is in love!

go to the “Harry Potter and the Cursed Child” Broadway show in the costume of Lord Voldemort or attend Disney’s “Aladdin” musical in the costume of the genie?

Our subconscious mind is like Aladdin’s’ “GENIE”. Whatever we feed our subconscious mind, it will try to manifest in the real world, whether it’s good or bad.

In Romans 11:34 God becomes terrifying: “For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who has been his counselor?” The answer is nobody. We find this aspect of God’s sovereignty terrifying. More often than not, we want him to have fairy wings and spread fairy dust and shine like a precious little star, dispensing nothing but good times on everyone, like some kind of hybrid of Tinker Bell and Aladdin’s Genie. But the God of the Bible, this God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob, is a pillar of fire and a column of smoke. His glory is blinding. It undoes people. It takes people out. “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God” (Heb. 10:31).

Inevitably, individualism has made an impact on the way religion is conceived. The spread of privatized spirituality, developed apart from a disciplined and disciplining church, doubtless fosters desires for personal connection with the transcendent, but, at the risk of an oxymoron, it is a personally defined transcendence. Privatized spirituality is not conspicuously able to foster care for others.103 God, if S/He exists, must satisfy the prime criterion: S/He must meet my needs, as I define them. It is hard to resist the conclusion that this God is less the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ than a Christianized species of the genie in Aladdin’s lamp. Having abandoned authoritative revelation and ecclesiastical tradition alike, many in this generation find it easy to adopt all sorts of absurd beliefs, provided only that they serve personal interests: this is the age when huge sums are paid to psychic counselors, when even Time lists crystal healing as a possible medical remedy, when an American president seeks guidance from astrologers.

As with the djinn and the fairies, modern American culture has largely defanged the meaning of being a witch and practicing witchcraft. The Leannán Sídhe became Tinkerbell; the Ifrit became Aladdin’s singing genie; so, too, the witch has been sanitized. There were very good reasons to fear the witch. It was after all the ultimate “other”: part wild, dangerous, with fire in the blood. Equally the witch served a purpose as an intermediary between the otherworld forces that butted up against the rural communities. The witch could remove fairy maleficence but equally could be the vehicle for its delivery

Each night I read you stories— Sinbad, Aladdin, Periebanou, Periezade— in that strange exotic language you cannot possibly understand: countenance, repast, bequeathed, nuptial, what can these words be telling you? What can they signify? That I love you? It’s time to sleep? Keep safe throughout this night? And yet you will not let me simplify, get angry if I explain, and hang on every word as if our lives depended on it. Perhaps they do. One day the stories will fail us, there will be nothing left to tell, another hand will rub your back, another genie will rise. But for now, sleep tight, sleep tight, and dream of the singing tree, the speaking bird, the golden water, the stone that was your father, restored by morning light.

Jasmine turned to see Fatimah, who was chanting something in an unfamiliar language, her eyes locked on Dahish's. Jasmine's mouth fell open as Fatimah's body jerked forward and began to spin, shedding her mortal skin... and revealing herself to be a magnificent blue genie. Dahish roared in fury, focused solely on the genie now. Fatimah extended her arm, sparks flowing from her fingertips as she fought Dahish's breaths of fire with flashes of lightning. While the genie and the ifrit battled on the landing above, and Aladdin and the street fighters defended the palace from the ghūls and monsters, Scheherazade's words echoed in Jasmine's ears. Create the ending of your story that you choose. Forget what is possible... And with the power of her conviction, Jasmine raced up the staircase two at a time to where the ifrit and the genie battled. Taking a steely breath, she leaped up onto the ifrit's fiery back, catching it by surprise--- and with Scheherazade's knife, Jasmine stabbed Dahish in the eye. Dahish flailed blindly, tumbling to the floor. Fatimah swooped down next to him and something materialized in her palm. The brass bottle. The atrium echoed with the sound of his defeated screams as Fatimah captured Dahish and forced him back into his brass bottle, throwing it into the last flames of the fire with Payam's bloodied body. As they burned, the remaining ghūls and snakes disintegrated before Jasmine's eyes, turning to ash now that the ifrit who controlled them was gone. Jasmine and Aladdin ran into each other's arms, exhausted and elated. The battle was won. Fatimah floated toward them, bowing gracefully, as if they hadn't all just been through a war. "Well done, Sultana.

Jasmine crossed the room to the balcony and opened the doors to find Aladdin floating in midair behind the railing, a mischievous grin on his face. "Look who came back," he said, before soaring above her on a large Persian carpet woven in an intricate pattern of rich blues and gold. "Magic Carpet!" Jasmine exclaimed. For a brief moment, her troubles faded from view as Carpet and Aladdin landed on the balcony beside her. Carpet bowed with a flourish, and Jasmine crouched down to hug the colorful fabric. It used its tassels to hug her back. "I thought you were with the Genie!" "It seems the little fella knew we needed him," Aladdin said, handing Jasmine a folded piece of parchment from his vest pocket. The Genie's loopy blue handwriting filled the page: Al and Jas, Can you take this carpet off my hands? It's getting to be a real drag, just letting me walk all over it. (Ba-da-bum!) For real, though, a little bird told me that you could use a pick-me-up. Since Carpet can literally take care of that, he's yours. Just save me a couple weeks a year for my annual World Carpet Tour, okay? Good luck, kids, and know I'm always rooting for you, G Jasmine hugged the parchment to her chest. "Thank you, Genie." She met Aladdin's eyes. "It's amazing, isn't it, how he always knows?" "It must come with the all-powerful-greatness package.

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.

It didn’t matter how much or how little Aladdin rubbed the lamp, the genie only came out because he wanted to.