Aladdin Jasmine Quotes

Dear parents, Jasmine was in a relationship with a dirty homeless boy named Aladdin. Snow White lived alone with 7 men. Pinnochio was a liar. Robin Hood was a thief. Tarzan walked around without clothes on. A stranger kissed sleeping beauty and she married him. Cinderella lied and snuck out at night to attend a party. You can't blame us. We were taught to rebel since a young age.

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.

Do you trust me?

His skeptical silence made me shift uncomfortably. I felt like Aladdin, holding his hand out to Jasmine on the magic carpet. A ridiculous comparison under the given circumstances, and yet oddly apt.

To: mollythemaverick@gmail.com From: ezra.baptiste@yahoo.com Date: February 24, 2017 02:39:01 EST Subject: World-Class Menagerie I watched Aladdin. You should have always been Jasmine. Every single time.

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

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.

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.

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.

He looked around for a plank he could lay down between the rooftops for her to walk across. But before he could think of some way of changing the subject- or staying on this one- the girl had found a pole of her own and leapt nimbly across to him. Far, far more gracefully than he had. Her robes swirled around her as she landed like a queen of the djinn alighting on the golden sands on the desert. "I learn pretty quickly," she said with mock haughtiness. Aladdin was once again speechless. What sort of rich girl was this? One who could leap like a mountain goat and play crazy at a moment's notice? Who had never seen poverty before and now, confronted with it, thought about it quietly rather than making rash statements? Who didn't care that Aladdin was a thief, except when he applied different standards to her? He was a loner, not a hermit; he had known other girls. Morgiana the Shadow, Abanbanu the tailor's daughter, Nefret with the strange green eyes, who came from the desert when the moon was new to trade trinkets from faraway lands. None of them was like this girl.

Can we get outside?" he asked Jasmine in a gasp. "Up ahead," she said between breaths. "There is a columned loggia that leads to the Courtyard of the Rose-Scented Footstools." Aladdin looked at her. "Just kidding," she said with a quick smile. "They don't really smell." The tiger bounded ahead as if he knew the plan. The carpet stayed behind them as if he was guarding the rear. Aladdin wasn't sure what a loggia was, but ahead there was a hall dotted with columns that opened up into a large courtyard with no ceiling overhead. There were lemon trees, sweet-scented myrtle, and pots of roses. More columns, ornamental and abstract, decorated the interior of the courtyard along with statues depicting ancient river gods. There were indeed footstools- carved into the shape of roses.

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.

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

Jasmine and Aladdin

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.

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?

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.

That girl, the girl he had spent the afternoon with, the girl who had leapt off the sides of buildings and pole-vaulted off others, who had charmed Abu and shared an apple with him, was not some rich girl off for a jaunt or running away from home. She was a princess. The royal princess. Jasmine. Her eyes were black and hard. Her back was straight; her arms hung gracefully at her sides as if she had too much power even to need to put them on her hips or cross them in anger. Her diadem sparkled. "The princess...?" Aladdin said faintly. It was said that Jasmine was beautiful; it was said she was quick-witted. Both of these were without question true. It was also said that she was a witch with a tiger for a familiar. It was said she tore her suitors to shreds- verbally and, vis-a-vis the tiger, occasionally literally. "Princess Jasmine," Rasoul said immediately, lowering his eyes and bowing. "What are you doing outside the palace? And with this... Street Rat?" "That is none of your concern," Jasmine said. She put her hands on her hips and marched right up into the captain's space as if he was no more to her than an irritating camel. "Do as I command. Release him.

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...

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.

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, evil 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.

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.

I'm only growing up, and maybe you should too. We always knew this would happen someday. I was born into a life in which I'm meant to rule. Not all of us have the freedom to be as carefree as you." Aladdin stepped back, stung. "You mean not all of us have as little to lose.

Jasmine gazed out through the window, past the lantern-lit gardens and sparkling crystal fountains of the palace grounds, toward the sand dunes and mountains towering in the distance. They were promises of thrills waiting to be discovered... if she could only get to them. "Do you remember what you said when we first met, when you thought I was a handmaiden?" she asked Aladdin. "You told me the palace was your favorite view in the whole world." "It was the most amazing sight I'd ever seen, that's for sure. After you, of course." He ruffled her hair playfully. "To see those white-and-gold domed roofs towering over the city, the castle rising from the dunes... it was a wonder, especially from where I was sitting. It still is." "My favorite view has always been this one." Jasmine's expression turned wistful as she nodded at the window. "You wanted to get in, while I was desperate to get out and see the world. And now..." "Now you're locked in," he finished, his smile fading. "And everyone wants me out." "Well. Hardly everyone," she reminded him.

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.

Aladdin may be a part of your... personal life, but he is no statesman. If you want to be taken seriously by the ministers who run your government, you would do well to separate your young romance from your role as our country's leader." His voice dripped with condescension. Jasmine felt a flash of fury. "And you would do well to remember to whom you are speaking," she said, lifting her chin to meet his gaze. "This isn't just some 'youthful romance,' as you call it. Aladdin is my intended husband. The future consort to your sultana. Speak of him with respect.

He's easily outshining both princes out there." "That's not hard to do," Jasmine quipped. "A man doesn't always need things like a title or a fortune, anyway," Aladdin said, exchanging a knowing glance with Jasmine. "I learned that in a roundabout way.

Especially because you have the most important quality of a sultana, at least in my mind." "And what is that?" Jasmine asked, mentally running through the key words from her coronation vows. Noble descent, innate worth, wisdom, justice. "Your kindness," Nadia answered. "The fact that you don't look down on anyone. I know of no other princess or noble lady who would treat a handmaiden as a close friend, or choose a man of Aladdin's background as a future husband. You see beyond rank, and I know that will make you a beloved sultana." She smiled. "Sultana of the people's hearts.

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.

Jasmine ran her hand along the knife's cool, smooth edge. She had never been allowed to so much as touch weaponry before, but with the blade in her hands, she felt instantly less vulnerable. The three of them spent the better part of an hour up on the roof, with Malik teaching Jasmine the basics of knife skills and defense techniques while Aladdin played the role of opponent. She was clumsy at first, but before long she was unsheathing the blade from her cloak and pointing it up to Aladdin's chin in two seconds flat, while using her other arm as a shield. "Well done, Princess," he said in her ear. "You're a quick study," Malik agreed, and Jasmine flushed with pride.

No. She wasn't happy spending her days reading about other people living their lives to the fullest, sultans risking it all for their people. She wanted to be living those things herself, doing them herself.

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.