Disney Classics Quotes

I think a lot about queer villains, the problem and pleasure and audacity of them. I know I should have a very specific political response to them. I know, for example, I should be offended by Disney’s lineup of vain, effete ne’er-do-wells (Scar, Jafar), sinister drag queens (Ursula, Cruella de Vil), and constipated, man-hating power dykes (Lady Tremaine, Maleficent). I should be furious at Downton Abbey’s scheming gay butler and Girlfriend’s controlling, lunatic lesbian, and I should be indignant about Rebecca and Strangers on a Train and Laura and The Terror and All About Eve, and every other classic and contemporary foppish, conniving, sissy, cruel, humorless, depraved, evil, insane homosexual on the large and small screen. And yet, while I recognize the problem intellectually—the system of coding, the way villainy and queerness became a kind of shorthand for each other—I cannot help but love these fictional queer villains. I love them for all of their aesthetic lushness and theatrical glee, their fabulousness, their ruthlessness, their power. They’re always by far the most interesting characters on the screen. After all, they live in a world that hates them. They’ve adapted; they’ve learned to conceal themselves. They’ve survived.

Your generation - you've not heard the Verve or Jimi Hendrix or Eminem, you've not read The Catcher in the Rye, you've not seen a classic film like Terminator or Blade Runner. All you've done is read dross, listen to crap and watch Disney movies with happy endings. And what kind of generation have we produced? A slow, simple, dull one who never questions anything. A stunted generation. It's devolution because in order for society to progress, you need to be able to debate ideas, to question, to see the dark and the light in things

I’ve often wished that I had some suave and socially acceptable hobby that I could fall back on in times like this. You know, play the violin (or was it the viola) like Sherlock Holmes, or maybe twiddle away on the pipe organ like the Disney version of Captain Nemo. But I don’t. I’m sort of the arcane equivalent of a classic computer geek. I do magic, in one form or another, and that’s pretty much it. I really need to get a life, one of these days

I tried to stay away from the classic Disney princess movies. In addition to featuring a lot of unempowered women, those movies are just so white. White people and stories about white people are not bad, it’s just that when you live in America, everything is so inherently white. I don’t want you to grow up wishing you were white and having that inform all of your decisions later on in life. I want you to be proud of having black hair and Asian features.

Fate is unkind when your dreams only exist within the confines of a classic Disney rhyme.

Fantasyland was designed as a home for some of the classic characters [from those films], and as a symbol of the magic, hope and beauty of the human imagination.

...while epic fantasy is based on the fairy tale of the just war, that’s not one you’ll find in Grimm or Disney, and most will never recognize the shape of it. I think the fantasy genre pitches its tent in the medieval campground for the very reason that we even bother to write stories about things that never happened in the first place: because it says something subtle and true about our own world, something it is difficult to say straight out, with a straight face. Something you need tools to say, you need cheat codes for the human brain--a candy princess or a sugar-coated unicorn to wash down the sour taste of how bad things can really get. See, I think our culture has a slash running through the middle of it, too. Past/Future, Conservative/Liberal, Online/Offline. Virgin/Whore. And yes: Classical/Medieval. I think we’re torn between the Classical Narrative of Self and the Medieval Narrative of Self, between the choice of Achilles and Keep Calm and Carry On. The Classical internal monologue goes like this: do anything, anything, only don’t be forgotten. Yes, this one sacrificed his daughter on a slab at Aulis, that one married his mother and tore out his eyes, and oh that guy ate his kids in a pie. But you remember their names, don’t you? So it’s all good in the end. Give a Greek soul a choice between a short life full of glory and a name echoing down the halls of time and a long, gentle life full of children and a quiet sort of virtue, and he’ll always go down in flames. That’s what the Iliad is all about, and the Odyssey too. When you get to Hades, you gotta have a story to tell, because the rest of eternity is just forgetting and hoping some mortal shows up on a quest and lets you drink blood from a bowl so you can remember who you were for one hour. And every bit of cultural narrative in America says that we are all Odysseus, we are all Agamemnon, all Atreus, all Achilles. That we as a nation made that choice and chose glory and personal valor, and woe betide any inconvenient “other people” who get in our way. We tell the tales around the campfire of men who came from nothing to run dotcom empires, of a million dollars made overnight, of an actress marrying a prince from Monaco, of athletes and stars and artists and cowboys and gangsters and bootleggers and talk show hosts who hitched up their bootstraps and bent the world to their will. Whose names you all know. And we say: that can be each and every one of us and if it isn’t, it’s your fault. You didn’t have the excellence for it. You didn’t work hard enough. The story wasn’t about you, and the only good stories are the kind that have big, unignorable, undeniable heroes.

The cacophonous touch of fame to my sole reiterates why I came: not for fame but to remind that fate is unkind when your dreams only exist within the confines of a classic Disney rhyme.

The fairy tale of film—created with the magic of animation—is the modern equivalent of the great parables of the Middle Ages. Creation is the word. Not adaptation. We can translate the ancient fairy tale into its modern equivalent without losing the lovely patina and savor of its once-upon-a-time quality. We have proved that age-old kind of entertainment based on the classic fairy tale recognizes no young, no old.

I’m a big fan of Disney’s animated movies, or at least of most of them. I don’t know what it is, but the songs get stuck in my head. There is a Disney song for every situation you encounter in life. Some people quote The Godfather. Some quote Monty Python and the Holy Grail. I quote Walt Disney. Those are the true classics.

Time seemed frozen, the applause went on and on even though heads were turning, necks were craning; someone had screamed because there was a man in the gallery and the man was holding a rifle and this was something they had all seen on TV, it was a situation with classic elements that they all recognized. In it's own way, it was as American as The Wonderful World of Disney. The politician and the man in a high place with the gun.

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.

The construction of castle arbours, monastic cloister gardens and Byzantine courtyards with trees and flowers attested to Western interest in the natural world. Paradise remained synonymous with perfect environments. In Anglo-Saxon, 'paradise' translated as 'meadow' or 'pasture'. Notions of a classical Golden Age, local legends, religion and romantic poetry all perpetuated the concept of nature as a refuge from society. For the nobility, nature signified a retreat for aesthetic pleasure and a venue for spiritual uplift. However, for the average medieval peasant, the organic world meant livestock rearing and crop production.

Let’s keep funerals for grieving and lamentation at the outrage that sin has perpetrated on the world. Keep the happy endings for Disney’s sugar-coated castration of classic fiction.

She has also spoken about her love of other Disney classics, The Little Mermaid and Pocahontas.

The first known published text of the classic fairy tale "Beauty and the Beast" was written by Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve in 1740 and collected in her compilation La Jeune Américaine et les contes marins. To say that the story met with favor is an understatement. By 1756, "Beauty and the Beast" was so well known that Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont wrote an abridged edition of it that would become the popular version included in collections of fairy tales throughout the nineteenth century (although Andrew Lang went back to de Villeneuve's original for his groundbreaking anthology The Blue Fairy Book, first published in 1891 as the beginning of a twelve-book series that would revolutionize the anthologizing of fairy tales for young read ers). Fifteen years later. Jean-François Marmontel and André Ernest Modeste Grétry adapted de Villeneuve's story as the book for the opera Zémire et Azor. the start of more than two centuries of extraliterary treatments that now include Jean Cocteau's famous 1946 film La Belle et la Bête, Walt Disney's 1991 animated feature Beauty and the Beast, and countless other cinematic, televi sion, stage, and musical variations on the story's theme. More than 4,000 years after it became part of the oral storytelling tradi tion, it is easy to understand why "Beauty and the Beast" continues to be one of the most popular fairy tales of all time, and a seemingly inexhaustible source of inspiration for artists working in all mediums. Its theme of the power of unconditional love is one that never grows old.

It's not every day that a hippopotamus asks for a fruitcake!

On the shuttle, Darth Vader peered through a window at the monstrous assemblage. He thought, Even if it succeeds where the previous Death Star failed, it is an infant’s trinket compared to the power of the Force.

R2-D2 was more optimistic about the fate of their friends. For one thing, Lando could take care of himself pretty well. Also, the droid knew that Chewbacca hadn’t even arrived yet at Jabba’s palace, although he didn’t bother mentioning this detail to C-3PO. Sometimes, the less C-3PO knew, the better. The

Artoo, look!” C-3PO said. “Captain Solo. And he’s still frozen in carbonite.

The smelting droid lowered the branding irons again on the upside-down power droid’s feet, and again the power droid screeched. R2-D2, who’d visited many inhospitable places in his long lifetime, decided that Jabba’s palace was the absolute worst.

You weak-minded fool!” Jabba scowled. “He’s using an old Jedi mind trick.” Bib yelped as Jabba shoved him off the dais.

On the skiff, the captive trio stood close to one another behind a guard who was acting as lead lookout on the prow. Han squinted at the desert sky and said, “I think my eyes are getting better. Instead of a big dark blue, I see a big light blur.” “There’s nothing to see,” Luke said. “I used to live here, you know.” “You’re gonna die here, you know,” Han said. “Convenient.” “Just stick close to Chewie and Lando,” Luke said, scanning the desert before them. “I’ve taken care of everything.” Sounding very unconvinced, Han said, “Oh…great!

Luke lifted his gaze to R2-D2 on the barge’s deck, then gave the droid a jaunty salute. It was the signal R2-D2 had been waiting for. A panel slid back from the astromech’s domed head, revealing Luke’s concealed lightsaber. Luke’s original lightsaber had been lost during his duel with Darth Vader on Cloud City, but he’d constructed a new one on Tatooine. He’d already used it, and knew that it worked.

But I need your help. I’ve come back to complete the training.” “No more training do you require. Already know you that which you need,” Yoda sighed and settled back against his pillow. Luke looked away. “Then I am a Jedi.” “Ohhh,” Yoda said, then shook his head. “Not yet. One thing remains: Vader. You must confront Vader. Then, only then, a Jedi will you be. And confront him you will.

Approaching Ben’s spirit, Luke asked, “Why didn’t you tell me? You told me Vader betrayed and murdered my father.” “Your father was seduced by the dark side of the Force,” Ben answered. “He ceased to be Anakin Skywalker and became Darth Vader. When that happened, the good man who was your father was destroyed. So what I told was true…from a certain point of view.” “A certain point of view!” Luke repeated derisively. “Luke, you’re going to find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view.” Ben’s spirit eased himself down to sit upon the length of a fallen tree. “Anakin was a good friend.

Maybe not, Luke thought. He said, “Yoda spoke of another.” Ben returned his gaze to Luke, studying him, trying to decide whether the young man was ready for another revelation, or if it were best for everyone if Luke remained ignorant. Ben made a decision, and said, “The other he spoke of is your twin sister.” Bewildered, Luke said, “But I have no sister.” “To protect you both from the Emperor, you were hidden from your father when you were born. The Emperor knew, as I did, if Anakin were to have any offspring, they would be a threat to him. That is the reason why your sister remains safely anonymous.” Incredibly, Luke was suddenly aware of his sister’s identity. “Leia! Leia’s my sister.” “Your insight serves you well,” Ben said. “Bury your feelings deep down, Luke. They do you credit. But they could be made to serve the Emperor.

While on Jabba’s barge, the astromech droid had penetrated the Hutt’s data system, and alerted the goons who’d remained in Jabba’s palace that the Imperials were coming for them with death warrants. The Imperial ships could hardly ignore the flotilla of smuggler ships, corsair gunboats, and slave transports that lifted off from the Hutt’s compound en masse; and in the battle that followed, they failed to notice the single X-wing starfighter and Corellian freighter that rose away from Tatooine by a more discreet route.

Vader’s on that ship,” Luke said. “Now don’t get jittery, Luke,” Han told him. “There are a lot of command ships. Keep your distance, though, Chewie, but don’t look like you’re trying to keep your distance.” Wondering how he should accomplish this tactic, Chewbacca barked a question to Han. “I don’t know,” Han replied. “Fly casual.

Remembering Han’s inclination to shoot first and ask questions later, Luke glared at his friend and stressed, “Quietly. There might be more of them out there.” Apparently surprised by Luke’s concern, Han grinned confidently and said, “Hey…it’s me.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about Ben, the Jedi Knight, who had served so briefly as Luke’s mentor in the ways of the Force. I still miss him, Luke thought. I wish I’d gotten to know him better on Tatooine, even though Uncle Owen would have tried to stop me. I could have learned so much.…

Don’t try to blame me,” C-3PO replied testily. “I didn’t ask you to turn on the thermal heater. I merely commented that it was freezing in the princess’s chamber.” R2-D2 rotated his domed head and responded with a defensive beep, prompting C-3PO to exclaim, “But it’s supposed to be freezing. How are we going to dry out all her clothes? I really don’t know.

A short distance away from him stood the shimmering, spectral form of Obi-Wan Kenobi. To make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, Luke said aloud, “Ben?” “You will go to the Dagobah system,” Ben said. “Dagobah system?” Luke repeated. I’m not hallucinating. I’m sure of it. “There you will learn from Yoda, the Jedi Master who instructed me.” Luke groaned as he tried not to go into shock. “Ben…Ben.

C-3PO ran as fast as he could. Han turned and shouted, “Hurry up, Goldenrod, or you’re going to be a permanent resident!

The Falcon’s engines fired. Han flashed a grin at Leia and said, “See?” Not impressed, Leia leaned forward in her seat and said, “Someday you’re going to be wrong, and I just hope I’m there to see it.

Han gave Leia a quick look. “You said you wanted to be around when I made a mistake; well, this could be it, sweetheart.” “I take it back,” Leia gasped. More asteroids raced past the cockpit. “We’re going to get pulverized if we stay out here much longer.

Darth Vader was not wearing his helmet. He sat facing away from Piett, who shivered at the sight of the back of Vader’s head; it was pale, hairless, and heavily scarred.

I’m not looking for a friend,” Luke said. “I’m looking for a Jedi Master.” The creature’s eyes went wide and his tapered ears dipped. “Oohhh, Jedi Master. Yoda. You seek Yoda.

From light-years away, on the planet Coruscant, the Emperor said, “There is a great disturbance in the Force.” “I have felt it,” Vader said. The Emperor continued, “We have a new enemy. The young Rebel who destroyed the Death Star. I have no doubt this boy is the offspring of Anakin Skywalker.” “How is that possible?” Darth Vader managed to ask through his shock. Could it be…true? “Search your feelings, Lord Vader. You will know it to be true. He could destroy us.

Ready, are you?” Yoda said, fixing Luke with a severe glare. “What know you of ready? For eight hundred years have I trained Jedi. My own counsel will I keep on who is to be trained! A Jedi must have the deepest commitment, the most serious mind.

He is too old,” Yoda replied. Before the fall of the Old Republic, Jedi began their training as infants— before they could know about fear and anger— and were raised at the Jedi Temple on the planet Coruscant. One rare exception had been Luke’s father, who’d been nine years of age when he’d arrived at the Jedi Temple. Yoda had been extremely reluctant to allow Luke’s father to become a Jedi, and given everything that had transpired, he was even more hesitant to teach Luke. Yoda added, “Yes, too old to begin the training.

Run!” Yoda said as he clung to Luke’s shoulders. “Yes. A Jedi’s strength flows from the Force. But beware of the dark side. Anger…fear…aggression. The dark side of the Force are they. Easily they flow, quick to join you in a fight. If once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny, consume you it will, as it did Obi-Wan’s apprentice.

All the bounty hunters listened as Darth Vader said, “There will be a substantial reward for the one who finds the Millennium Falcon. You are free to use any methods necessary, but I want them alive.” Vader extended a black-gloved finger at Boba Fett and stressed, “No disintegrations.

All right,” Luke said. “I’ll give it a try.” “No!” Yoda protested fiercely. “Try not. Do. Or do not. There is no try.

Size matters not,” Yoda said. “Look at me. Judge me by my size, do you? Mm?” Luke shook his head. “Mmmm,” Yoda murmured. “And well you should not. For my ally is the Force. And a powerful ally it is. Life creates it, makes it grow. Its energy surrounds us and binds us. Luminous beings are we…” He pinched Luke’s shoulder. “…not this crude matter.

As Han kept his eyes on the departing Star Destroyer, Leia touched his shoulder and said, “You do have your moments. Not many of them, but you do have them.” She kissed his cheek, then settled back into her seat.

Go on. Activate your lightsaber. The blue blade still looks so pure. Do you know I’m familiar with that particular weapon? The very one you’re holding? The one that Obi-Wan must have given you. No, I don’t believe you know that. Not yet.

If only you knew the power of the dark side,” Vader said, reaching out to clutch the air with his black-gloved fist. “Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father.” “He told me enough!” Luke said as he wrapped his arms around the sensor array and lowered his feet to a metal ring. Wincing, he added, “He told me you killed him.” “No,” Vader said, his fist still clenched. “I am your father.” Luke’s eyes went wide. My father? But Ben told me… “No,” Luke whimpered. “No. That’s not true! That’s impossible!” “Search your feelings,” Vader said. “You know it to be true.” “No!” Luke shouted. “No!

Even though Leia had already expressed her mistrust for Lando, and heard his talk of deals that would keep the Empire out of Cloud City, it was only upon seeing Lobot with the stormtroopers that she realized…Lando set us up! She looked at Lando, as did Han and Chewbacca. Lando looked Han square in the eye and said grimly, “I had no choice. They arrived right before you did. I’m sorry.

Leia called out, “I love you!” To which Han said, “I know.

The Force is with you, young Skywalker,” a deep voice rumbled from behind him, causing Luke to turn fast. “But you are not a Jedi yet.” It was Darth Vader.

Darth Vader sensed the change that swept over the pilot in the remaining X-wing. As Vader tried to lock onto the Rebel starfighter with his targeting computer, he said, “The Force is strong in this one!

The Falcon pulled out of its steep dive and Han said into his comm, “You’re all clear, kid. Now let’s blow this thing up and go home!

Great shot, kid,” Han said into his comm. “That was one in a million.” Luke let out a deep breath and relaxed. Then Ben’s voice said, “Remember, the Force will be with you…always.

When he died, much was made of how singular Steve Jobs had been. For comparisons, observers needed to reach back to the mythic inventors and showmen of earlier eras, particularly Thomas Edison and Walt Disney. Jobs was singular, to be sure. But he also was of a type. He was what psychotherapist and business coach Michael Maccoby called a “productive narcissist.” In 2000, Maccoby published an insightful article in the Harvard Business Review that applies Freudian terminology to three categories of executives Maccoby had observed in corporate life. “Erotics” feel a need to be loved, value consensus, and as a result are not natural leaders. These are the people to whom a manager should assign tasks—and then heap praise for a job well done. “Obsessives” are by-the-books tacticians with a knack for making the trains run on time. An efficient head of logistics or bottom-line-oriented spreadsheet jockey is the classic obsessive. The greats of business history, however, are “productive narcissists,” visionary risk takers with a burning desire to “change the world.” Corporate narcissists are charismatic leaders willing to do whatever it takes to win and who couldn’t give a fig about being liked. Steve Jobs was the textbook example of a productive narcissist. An unimpressed Jobs was famous for calling other companies “bozos.” His own executives endured their rides on what one called the “bozo/hero rollercoaster,” often within the same marathon meeting.

By holiday time, Buena Vista Street felt like Bedford Falls, with its vintage lights and decorations, and a classic Santa Claus listening to children's holiday wishes at Elias & Co. Cocoa clutching---Guests in scarves and parkas filled the streets and shops.

True Love… it’s the most wonderful human emotion and one of the most elusive. We search for it, trying to find that one person in the whole world worthy enough to spend our lives with. When you look at the trail of broken hearts, the rivers of tears and the broken dreams, it’s quite obvious that it’s not an easy dream to achieve. Don’t we rightly call it the Quest for Love? That’s why when we think we’ve found the right person, we are giddy with happiness and relief. Finally! The answer to our prayers has come after such a long wait. We are safe. We are loved. A lot of women view marriage this way and I blame that on all the Walt Disney cartoons we watched as little girls. There’s this beautiful helpless princess locked away in a castle and here comes this handsome prince to save her from her miserable life. Classic. Then, after the grand wedding ball, the movie ends with: “And They Lived Happily Ever After.” That’s it? What happened afterwards? Nothing’s mentioned about that. We are made to think that it all ends there, that the couple’s happiness is secured and a given. They love each other, right? They went through all that trouble just to be together. So they’ll be happy. End of story.

Pinocchio’s transformation into a real boy is accomplished not thorugh some final magical action, as Disney has it, but by the inner working of a grace that converts the heart and moves the self toward acts of geniuine love.

The modern abridgments and retellings of Pinocchio, of which Disney’s only the most well known, soften the violence of death in Collodi’s original tale and as a result sweeten and sentimentalize the love that grows within Pinocchio. Thus they also fail to capture the gritty nature of the puppet’s courage and endurance. Pinocchio’s close calls with death, whether when dangling over the showman’s fire, hanging from a tree, or being plunged into the dark depths of the sea, are also the hard lessons he learns about the true value of life, the reality of reciprocal love, and the necessity of self-expending love in the face of evil and danger.

Luke had never seen the Emperor before. The Emperor’s hooded visage was disfigured: flesh sagged from his bulging forehead and around his piercing yellow eyes—even his voice sounded ravaged by the evil that flowed through his veins. Luke gazed at him defiantly and thought, He looks like a corpse.

By now you must know your father can never be turned from the dark side. So will it be with you.” “You’re wrong,” Luke said. “Soon I’ll be dead…and you with me.” The Emperor laughed. “Perhaps you refer to the imminent attack of your Rebel fleet.” Luke looked up sharply. He knows. “Yes,” hissed the Emperor, “I assure you we are quite safe from your friends here.” He turned to walk back to his throne. “Your overconfidence is your weakness,” Luke stated. The Emperor stopped and glanced back at Luke. With a sneer, he replied, “Your faith in your friends is yours.

Luke glanced at Darth Vader. He thought, If there’s even a trace of Anakin Skywalker left, he wouldn’t stand by and allow this to continue. But all Darth Vader did was return Luke’s gaze.

Luke closed his eyes. I’m sorry, Leia and Han. I’d do anything to save you, but I must resist the dark side. Suddenly, Luke felt a dull ache in his head, and sensed that Vader was using the Force to probe his mind. “Yes, your thoughts betray you,” Vader spoke, confirming Luke’s suspicion. “Your feelings for them are strong. Especially for…” Luke tried to block his thoughts—and failed. “Sister!” Vader said. “So…you have a twin sister. Your feelings have now betrayed her, too. Obi-Wan was wise to hide her from me. Now his failure is complete. If you will not turn to the dark side, then perhaps she will.

On the stairway behind Luke, the Emperor was unable to contain himself. “Good! Your hate has made you powerful. Now, fulfill your destiny and take your father’s place at my side!

I’ll never turn to the dark side,” Luke vowed. “You’ve failed, Your Highness. I am a Jedi, like my father before me.” With immeasurable displeasure, the Emperor said, “So be it…Jedi.

Using the last of his strength, Luke lifted his arm, and reached out toward Vader. “Father, please,” Luke groaned. “Help me.

The flames rose high into the night. Fireworks exploded overhead, and then starfighters streaked across the sky. Luke realized his allies were celebrating. And not just on Endor’s moon, for news of the Rebel victory had spread quickly across the galaxy. Later, Luke would learn there had been fireworks over Cloud City, parades on Tatooine, and joyous public rallies on Naboo and Coruscant.

Then you must go to the Sanctuary Moon and wait for him.” Vader was skeptical. “He will come to me?” “I have foreseen it,” the Emperor said as he eased back into his chair. “His compassion for you will be his undoing. He will come to you, and then you will bring him before me.

But I do believe they think I am some sort of god.” Chewbacca and R2-D2 found this extremely amusing. Han and Luke exchanged glances, then Han said sarcastically, “Well, why don’t you use your divine influence and get us out of this?” “I beg your pardon, General Solo,” C-3PO said, “but that just wouldn’t be proper.” Getting angry again, Han asked, “Proper?!” “It’s against my programming to impersonate a deity,” C-3PO explained.

Vader and Luke walked slowly toward the turbolift. Vader said, “The Emperor has been expecting you.” “I know, father.” Vader glanced at Luke and said, “So you have accepted the truth.” “I’ve accepted the truth that you were once Anakin Skywalker, my father.” Vader stopped to face Luke and said menacingly, “That name no longer has any meaning for me.” “It is the name of your true self,” Luke replied. “You’ve only forgotten. I know there is good in you. The Emperor hasn’t driven it from you fully.” Looking away from Vader, Luke rested his arms on the gantry’s railing and gazed at the surrounding forest. “That was why you couldn’t destroy me,” he continued. “That’s why you won’t bring me to your Emperor now.

Vader stepped to the railing and tried to collect his thoughts. I must obey my Master. I must deliver Luke to him. But if Luke can kill the Emperor, perhaps…perhaps then I will be free.

Leia moved close beside Han. Looking at the Imperial scouts, Han observed, “It’s only a few guards. This shouldn’t be too much trouble.” Remembering Han’s last encounter with a group of scout troopers, Leia said, “Well, it only takes one to sound the alarm.” Ever confident, Han grinned and said, “Then we’ll do it real quiet-like.

The Emperor continued, “With each passing moment you make yourself more my servant.” “No!” Luke shouted as he spun to glare at the evil wretch. “It is unavoidable,” the Emperor leered. “It is your destiny. You, like your father, are now mine!

It was all a trap, Leia realized. She thought of the Bothan spies who’d died in their effort to acquire and deliver the secret data regarding the new Death Star to the Alliance. The Bothans were pawns. Everything—the data, the stolen Imperial shuttle, the clearance code for the shield passage—was a scheme to bring the Rebel fleet to Endor.

And then, in a moment, something changed. Perhaps he remembered something heard in his youth a long time ago: an ancient prophecy of the Chosen One who would bring balance to the Force. Perhaps the vague outlines of someone named Shmi and a Jedi named Qui-Gon struggled to the surface of his consciousness. The most powerful, the most repressed thought of all could have emerged from the darkness: Padmé…and her undying love for someone he once knew well. And despite all the terrible, unspeakable things he’d done in his life, he suddenly realized he could not stand by and allow the Emperor to kill their son. And in that moment, he was no longer Darth Vader. He was Anakin Skywalker.

Luke,” Vader gasped, “help me take this mask off.” Luke didn’t have to look at the life systems computer on Vader’s chestplate to know what his father was suggesting. Luke said, “But you’ll die.” “Nothing can stop that now. Just for once…let me look on you…with my own eyes.

Luke tried to conceal his initial shock, then found himself staring into his father’s eyes. They were blue, like his own.

You’re coming with me. I’ll not leave you here. I’ve got to save you.” Anakin smiled again. “You already have, Luke. You were right.” Choking, he gasped, “You were right about me. Tell your sister…you were right.

And then he saw them: two shimmering apparitions that appeared before him in the darkness. Yoda and Ben Kenobi. Then a third apparition materialized beside them—a figure whom he instinctively knew was a younger Anakin Skywalker, from the days before his Jedi father’s fall, his features unscarred and…happy. Luke was right: He was a Jedi like his father before him. The apparitions smiled at Luke, silently telling him that the Force would be with him always.

Leia opened her eyes and lifted her head. She had an uncomprehending look on her face as she said, “Aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper?” “Huh?” Luke replied. “Oh…the uniform.” He reached up to pull off the helmet. Shaking his hair free, he said, “I’m Luke Skywalker. I’m here to rescue you.

Darth Vader ignored the blasterfight and looked down at the old brown cloak and lightsaber that lay on the floor. Incredibly, Obi-Wan had completely disappeared. Where is he? How could he vanish? What sort of trickery is this? He had assumed Obi-Wan’s study of the Force had ended long ago, and that his powers had diminished over time. But Vader was wrong.

This will be a day long remembered,” Vader said. “It has seen the end of Kenobi. It will soon see the end of the Rebellion.” Tarkin glanced at Vader, then returned his gaze to the monitor. He anticipated with relish delivering the crushing blow to the Rebel Alliance.

Yoda said, “Stopped they must be. On this all depends. Only a fully trained Jedi Knight with the Force as his ally will conquer Vader and his Emperor.” As Luke stowed the last of his gear onto the X-wing, Yoda continued, “If you end your training now, if you choose the quick and easy path, as Vader did, you will become an agent of evil.” “Patience,” Ben said with great emphasis, as if it was the one word Luke should remember. Patience? Luke couldn’t believe anyone would encourage patience right now. Facing Ben, he snapped, “And sacrifice Han and Leia?” Yoda answered, “If you honor what they fight for…yes!

Ben looked to Luke and smiled, then he raised his lightsaber before him and closed his eyes. He looked almost serene.

Darth Vader thought Obi-Wan was surrendering, but the dark lord was without mercy. Vader’s lightsaber swept through the air and sliced through Ben’s form. Ben’s cloak and lightsaber fell to the floor. His body was gone.

It was his former apprentice, Darth Vader. Vader had already activated the red blade of his lightsaber. For a moment, he stood motionless. Then he approached Ben. Obi-Wan activated his lightsaber and stepped slowly forward. He’d fought Vader before. He hadn’t been afraid then either.

Vader said, “Your powers are weak, old man.” “You can’t win, Darth,” Obi-Wan said. “If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine.

Chief Bast said, “We’ve analyzed their attack, sir, and there is a danger. Should I have your ship standing by?” “Evacuate?” Tarkin said, outraged. “In our moment of triumph? I think you overestimate their chances!

Both R2-D2 and C-3PO had spent time on this same moisture farm before, a long time ago. From the astromech’s perspective, the place hadn’t changed much, but he refused to let old memories distract him from his current mission. As for the protocol droid, his memory was not what it had once been.

An almost identical droid had served on the Lars family farm a few decades back, so Owen recognized the model as a protocol droid. If Owen had had a curious nature or dwelled on the past, he might have wondered if he were looking at the same droid, but on this day, which followed many hard days, his only interest in droids was whether they would be useful to him on the farm.

Obi-Wan Kenobi…” he said. “Obi-Wan? Now that’s a name I’ve not heard in a long time…a long time.” “I think my uncle knows him,” Luke said. “He said he was dead.…” “Oh, he’s not dead,” Ben said, smiling as he glanced at the sky. “Not yet.” “You know him?” “Well, of course I know him. He’s me! I haven’t gone by the name Obi-Wan since, oh, before you were born.

Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.

Pinching the air with his fingers, Vader said, “I find your lack of faith disturbing.” Tarkin eyed Vader, then said, “Enough of this! Vader, release him!” “As you wish,” Vader said. He lowered his hand.

Luke didn’t have time for pity. He said, “I want to come with you to Alderaan. There’s nothing for me here now. I want to learn the ways of the Force and become a Jedi like my father.

I felt a great disturbance in the Force,” Ben said. “As if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced. I fear something terrible has happened.” He rubbed his eyes. Not wanting to worry Luke, he added, “You’d better get on with your exercises.

Although Luke had not mentioned the astromech’s name, Ben did recognize R2-D2. They’d met decades before, on a starship that had been forced to make an emergency landing on Tatooine, of all places. Ben kept his recollections to himself

An elegant weapon for a more civilized day,” Ben commented as he returned to his chair. “For over a thousand generations the Jedi Knights were the guardians of peace and justice in the Old Republic. Before the dark times, before the Empire.

Vader warned, “Don’t be too proud of this technological terror you’ve constructed. The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the Force.

Tarkin looked to Vader and said, “Perhaps she would respond to an alternative form of persuasion.” “What do you mean?” asked Vader. Tarkin said, “I think it is time we demonstrated the full power of this station.” He turned to Motti and commanded, “Set your course for Alderaan.

Governor Tarkin,” Leia said. “I should have expected to find you holding Vader’s leash. I recognized your foul stench when I was brought on board.