Clara Nutcracker Quotes

On days her spirits are low, like now, or between ballet seasons, when she has time to think about herself outside of the roles she plays, when she is not Odette in Swan Lake or Clara in The Nutcracker, she finds her feet reason enough to doubt the grace for which she is applauded when she spins on the tips of her toes.

You hwill follow me!” You did not disobey someone who added h’s to their w’s. Clara and Nutcracker hurried after Mother Svetlana, who could glide down the hall with extreme grace for someone her size. Nuns rushed past them in frocks of beige, their starched wimples brushing Clara. Mother Svetlana parted them like the Red Sea. Something flashed in one of their hands—a butcher knife? “How dare these ungodly creatures assault a house of the Lord!” Mother Svetlana’s voice filled to the arches. “Hwe are hwomen of peace!” “Yes…” Nutcracker eyed a short nun who scampered past with an ax. She looked positively gleeful. “Hwe hwill hold the rats off, with God’s help,” Mother Svetlana continued. Down the hall, gunshots sounded, echoing through the gardens. A nun rushed past, carrying an eye-stinging bucket of lye. Another feeble old woman scuttled past with a huge rifle, gleefully squeaking: Lawks, lawks, I’m just a little old nun!

Oh, thank you!” said Clara, taking a large bite. The rich, thick patty of chocolate filled her mouth and throat. “You don’t eat it like that!” said Alexei, horrified. “You fold it up in the petals and smell it first, then take one tiny, tiny bite—” “Don’t you dare tell me how to eat a chocolate!” said Clara, turning on him with a newfound energy and a mouthful of chocolate. “I’ve had the longest day of my life! I’ve been attacked by rats, I’ve missed my concert, my whole body is burning, you yelled at me, and I will eat this chocolate however I want to eat it!” Nutcracker, Zizi, and Alexei had all taken a step back. Alexei cleared his throat...and managed to say the exact right thing: “Allow me to get you another chocolate.

No longer feeling shy, Clara took his hand and rested the other on his arm. To the slow strains of a waltz, they circled the hall, their shadows mimicking the moves on the papered and garland walls.

I had a knife fixed in my dress in case I needed it but my hopes were to somehow manage this without getting blood on my hands. I'd prefer Peter get to make the ultimate decision of what to do with the Mouse King.

And then I had the sinking realization. If Peter was nowhere to be found, he must have been found by the soldiers.

Good. I've been so worried about you. It took four days of searching to find you and when I did, your heart was barely beating. I thought you were going to die.

Oh, that." She shrugged her shoulder callously. "I only said that that heathen princess has been caught and locked away. I'm just waiting to hear when she and that conspirator she ran off with, will receive their sentences for betraying the King." The woman threw her head back and cackled an evil sound.

Alice." I sighed. She glared at me. Could I truly trust this girl? "I didn't know if I could trust you. The throne will be yours, you know." "I don't want the throne! It's so much work and pressure. I just want to be free to lead my own life." "Then, let's try and warn Peter.

Okay, fine but when we sneak out, I'm going too. You don't get to have all the fun." "Fun? I'm scared to death . . .

My kingdom doesn't want me. They'd rather have that tyrant than me. I couldn't find the Sugar Plum Princess. I'm beginning to think she doesn't exist. My father was sure she did. That's why I have been searching still but I think it's time I admit defeat.

as Audrius refilled the glasses. “Act one, scene one of The Nutcracker.” “Tchaikovsky!” the German guffawed. “You laugh, mein Herr. And yet, I would wager a thousand crowns that you can picture it yourself. On Christmas Eve, having celebrated with family and friends in a room dressed with garlands, Clara sleeps soundly on the floor with her magnificent new toy. But at the stroke of midnight, with the one-eyed Drosselmeyer perched on the grandfather clock like an owl, the Christmas tree begins to grow. . . .

The entire time Tchaikovsky was composing 'The Nutcracker,' Madame Sylvie told Dara once, he was mourning his beloved sister Sasha. He reanimated her through Clara. It explained the strange heaviness of the ballet, its grand melancholy, its piercing nostalgia. And the deathlessness of its vision of childhood, of innocence and escape. Our almost unbearable awareness that everything we're seeing is disappearing even as we watch, fluttering past us as the dancers do, slipping away like smoke. Every year, when the grand -pas de deux- -- the Sugar Plum Fairy and her Prince--begins, the audience's eyes fill with tears. Those shimmering sound of the celesta, like bells clear and pure, and we are flung backward. Time is conquered for a brief, luminous moment. Dara remembered one parent telling her that prayers from the Russian funeral mass were hidden in its opening bars. -We don't hear it-, he told her. -But we feel it nonetheless.-

What was I supposed to say to that? If I added my agreement, I could easily be punished as a traitor to the crown. Perhaps that is why so many girls had already been relieved of this position. Alice could be testing their allegiance to her wicked father.

If she were truly so kind, why did everyone say she was so cruel? I must always be on guard around this girl. There was something going on here and I wasn't sure what.

First, it would sound ridiculous. No one would take us seriously as this was probably an old fairytale. And second, word would surely get back to the Mouse King. The last thing we needed was for him to know we were trying to take the thrown back.