Moana Quotes

Every Disney heroine has an “I Want” song, in which they explain what’s missing in their lives. Moana feels called by the ocean. Tiana is “Almost There,” saving money to start her own restaurant. Belle wants “adventure in the great wide somewhere.” The tradition goes all the way back to Snow White, singing “Someday My Prince Will Come.” You can chart the progress of women in America by the things Disney heroines sing about in their “I Want” songs.

1) A “Ladies Who Lunch Party” thrown at the country club. Waiters carried hors d’oeuvres around, kneeling on the ground so that the little girls could reach them. The lunch was nicer than Jane’s wedding shower, possibly nicer than her wedding. 2) A “Movie Premiere Party” where the entire theater was rented out and the kids were allowed as much popcorn and candy as they wanted while watching a double feature of Moana and Monsters, Inc. (Lauren threw up in her bed that night.) 3) A “Camping Party” where each child received a sleeping bag personalized with her name and the backyard was set up with mini pink tents and paper lanterns. Someone was hired to grill the hot dogs and make the s’mores. 4) A “Spa Party” at the Four Seasons downtown where the girls got facials and fluffy pink robes and slippers. (Because what first grader wouldn’t appreciate getting rid of clogged pores?)

into

with

Te Kā can’t follow us into the water….We make it past the barrier islands…we make it to Te Fiti.” She put Heihei in a basket. “None of which you understand because you are a chicken.

Kia hora te marino, kia whakapapa pounamu te moana, kia tere te Kārohirohi i mua i tōu huarahi. May the calm be widespread, may the surface of the ocean glisten like the greenstone, and may the shimmer of summer dance across your path forever.

metal on metal screech outside. It sounded

selfishly looking

Dropping flat,

find Moana

Moana, their mother, went to L.A. to become a movie

The TV was still on, but now they were watching Moana. The princesses had definitely gotten more badass since she was a little girl.

A maior parte da minha renda pessoal excedente ia para os bares na orla. Os turistas iam beber nos resorts de luxo, aqueles cujos nomes pareciam palavras mágicas – o Moana, o Halekulani –, mas Carter e eu preferíamos os de pior reputação. Gostávamos de nos sentar com os nossos amigos da praia e os surfistas, os aventureiros e os vagabundos, e nos sentíamos orgulhosos da única coisa que tínhamos a nosso favor: a geografia.

Soaring through the sky, the hawk flew toward the

I’m Moana… not Cinderella.

She made me want to schedule my time better so I could devote the time to it that I’d originally intended. She made me want to pull her onto my lounge chair and ignore the hundred other people watching Moana. She made me want her.

If you let your eight-year-old watch Game of Thrones, I'm not going to judge you. But just know that Moana or Frozen just won't have the same kind of giddy-up once they've seen Khaleesi in sexual congress with King of the North.

Ironically, this capitalist grab-bag approach, which underpins the race to monetise both digital devices and online technologies, mirrors the grab-bag approach to colonisation of the Moana.

Whatever it was, she'd eat it, she promised herself. She'd do it for her people, Maui, and Te Fiti--- A cloying sweetness drifted toward her. A familiar aroma. Is that banana? Moana's eyes winked open and--- sure enough--- baked bananas glistened in a pool of coconut cream. The monsters were serving bowls of banana po'e.

Taro was wrapped in banana leaves and cooked with coconut cream in a split gourd, wringing Moana's hunger with its smell.

A glowing manta ray swam through the dark sea, radiating wicks of iridescent blue. The manta ray shimmered as it floated toward Moana--- the very same one that had guided her out of the reef back home. Its wings glided gracefully though the water, reminding her of a dancer until it dove under, robbing Moana of her view. "You are a long ways past the reef," a voice murmured softly. Perched beside Maui's stone figure was her grandmother's spirit, wearing a sad smile. "Gramma?" A familiar sly look flitted across the spirit's face, wrinkling her white brows. She tilted her head toward the manta tattoo on her back. "Guess I chose the right tattoo. "Gramma!" Moana shouted, running into the spirit's arms. She hugged her tight as a strange cold eased into her, breezing over her skin where she touched her gramma's spirit. But she ignored it, pressing her face into her gramma's neck, inhaling notes of her familiar coconut oil aroma. She'd always rubbed it along her skin and worn it in her hair, along with the red hibiscus she gathered.

She was Moana of Motunui, chosen by the ocean to save her people from the blight, to restore the heart of Te Fiti.

Finally, Moana spied a streak of blue in the water. The light dissolved, and a shark's fin cut through the ocean. Maui had the heart captured in his many teeth, the stone shining bright like the pearls her mother collected from the oysters on Motunui.

Did you and my dad name the boat?" "We did." Afā looked awkwardly at his feet. "We named her Moana."

In the other visions Te Fiti had sent her, wherever she went, the goddess had smelled of flowers and fresh green growth, perfuming the air with tiare, lehua honey, and heady moss.

It's just a story, Moana." "They might say that about us and our journey someday.

Soon I will have everything I need to resurrect myself and my people--- and you're just a girl, Moana. What can you do to me?" Noe's hands rose into the air, and Moana lunged. Noe had asked. Moana pulled back her heavy stone arm and punched the girl solidly in the jaw. The hit landed, sprawling Noe onto the sand. She looked up. Shock bled through her eyes. "You're not the only one with a foot in death now, Noe," Moana said, lurching toward her with her volcanic fist again.

You would've found your way, Moana. You helped me remember we have salt water in our blood. We can never be lost on the ocean's waves. It will always draw us together." Moana cried freely as Afā began to glow, and she knew she was looking at his spirit now. He would disappear into the spirit realm to join their ancestors. "You are the culmination of all our people's hopes and dreams," Afā said, touching his forehead to hers. But there was no shared breath between them. Because this was not a greeting; this was a goodbye. "I see our ancestors in you, Moana--- and they're proud of you. You've turned the tides of our island's future, and our ancestors know you're gonna teach future generations how to find their way. Remember, you're carrying our traditions on. You could never be a failure to them.

The mother island wants you to know she can't give you a constellation like the demigod Maui has, but she can return Noelani's seeing stone to you--- restored by her own lava. She hopes that this pendant will serve as a reminder of your role and everything you've done for her and the rest of the ocean, so you, Moana of Motunui, can never forget who you are.

Soon, she'd return home and raise her island higher, leading her village with pride and strength. Moana looked toward the sea, toward Motunui. She'd show her island the way, just like Noe and her ancestors had shown her--- and she'd start by taking her people far past their island's reef.

But the ocean chose you, and I believe you were chosen because of who you are--- not despite it." Moana's chest tightened. She thought of the first time she'd waded into the ocean's tide. The memory was hazy after the years, but she could still remember the shape of the pretty shell she'd found--- and the turtle on the sand she'd chosen to help, instead of claiming that shell for herself. Only then had the ocean's waves revealed the glimmering heart. "Maybe you're right." "Of course I am." Afā grinned, and Moana saw a flash of her father in him. They had the same self-assured grin, the same brazen spirit. "We can't let our mistakes define us, right?" Moana sniffed at the familiar words as Afā went on. "I look at you and I see so much strength and pride--- and I know you're not a failure, so don't forget who you are.

You once told me our mistakes aren't permanent, Noe. You can always return to who you were meant to be.

Unlike Te Kā, the mother island smelled of fresh moss drenched with river water, and her stare did not scald Moana--- though something ancient stirred within the facets of the goddess's gemstone eyes. I know who you are, Moana. Moana trembled under the goddess's watch as Te Fiti's voice lilted through her mind, light as a breeze. Now you see, the goddess told her, and a warmth shivered across Moana's skin. The goddess's hand hovered in the air, and Moana felt her power coarse through her cursed arm and shoulder, cleansing her skin of the black veins and stone that encased her palm, wrist, neck, and jaw. Instead, where the goddess's hand passed, flowers and moss crawled up Moana's arm, tickling her skin with their petals and plush leaves.