Ariel Disney Quotes

Who says that my dreams have to stay just my dreams?

Tragicomic absurdity from Disney World, as the pack of Ariel, Belle, Jasmine, Mulan fell upon children, each red bite a boutonniere.

Mr. Disney, we are returning your Duck. Feathers plucked and well-roasted. Look inside, you can see the handwriting on the wall, our hands still writing on the wall: Donald, Go Home!

This fear of needing a man to make us happy is a product of our bullshit Disney princess culture that also taught us a man can fall in love even if a sea witch stole the woman's voice. She was pretty damn awesome as a mermaid first!

Romance is part of our female DNA. If you don’t believe me, think back on the Disney movies they started feeding us at the ripe old age of two. Although humorous supporting characters helped advance the plotlines, each and every one essentially involved a girl, a guy, and a happy ending: Belle, Ariel, Jasmine, Snow White, they’re all just looking for a good man!

In Disney, the working class has therefore been split into two groups: criminals in the city, and noble savages in the countryside.

In order to attain knowledge, which is a form of power, we cannot continue to endorse, with blinded vision and stilted jargon, the initiation rituals with which our spiritual high priests seek to legitimize and protect their exclusive privileges of thought and expression.

We do not want to be like the scientist who takes his umbrella with him to go study the rain.

Scar: We’re going to watch Frozen. Are you coming back to our room? My lips parted and utter excitement ran through me. I shoved my Atlas back into my pocket and started running up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He’d finally dropped his walls, he was allowing me to peek into his heart and see the Disney princess living in there. Was it Belle? Aurora? Ariel? Of course it was Ariel. He’d been waiting to get his legs for years and live above the sea. We needed to have another movie night. Maybe he’d wear Mickey Mouse ears if I bought them for him. We could get matching ones for the pride. Different colours for each of us.

No question, prowling the Russian steppe for wolf meat and potato vodka takes a certain amount of admirable grit. Far more frightening to me, though, is the prospect of exploring the comely mermaid fantasy of Ariel’s Grotto inside the walls of a twenty-six-square-mile temple of consumerism dedicated to celebrating synthetic American culture at its overcrowded, fake-dreams, corndog-and-cotton-candy-inhaling worst, pushing a CEO-manufactured, ultraconformist mass “fantasy” presented fait accompli to American children. If it turns out there’s more horror to shrink from in Disney World than in Africa, I for one won’t be all that surprised.

Thank you, Facebook Quizzes, for helping me identify my Disney princess spirit, my old-person name, my mental disorder, and the color of my soul. All in one evening. Best, Ariel Harriet Schizophrenic Mauve.

Mr. Disney, we are returning your Duck. Feathers plucked and well-roasted. Look inside, you can see the handwriting on the wall, our hands still writing on the wall: Donald, Go Home!

(Ursula) She was a boss babe running a business, and doing it in style.

Caitlin, I proposed to you at Disneyland, the Happiest Place on Earth, because I knew that marrying you would make me the Happiest Man on Earth. “You are every Disney princess wrapped up into one woman: “You have Snow White’s gentle compassion for others; “Cinderella’s strength to overcome hard times and emerge as the belle of the ball; “Ariel’s wit and feistiness; “Princess Jasmine’s flashing dark eyes; “The gorgeous tumbling hair of Rapunzel; “The adventurous spirit of Pocahontas; “And Belle’s ability to see the beauty in this Beast.

Kingdom? Or queendom?" "What?" Flounder asked, exasperated. "The mer are ruled by a queen. Shouldn't it be queendom?