Tale Of Despereaux Quotes

There is nothing sweeter in this sad world than the sound of someone you love calling your name.

Stories are light. Light is precious in a world so dark. Begin at the beginning. Tell Gregory a story. Make some light.

Once upon a time," he said out loud to the darkness. He said these words because they were the best, the most powerful words that he knew and just the saying of them comforted him.

The world is dark, and light is precious. Come closer, dear reader. You must trust me. I am telling you a story.

Reader, you must know that an interesting fate (sometimes involving rats, sometimes not) awaits almost everyone, mouse or man, who does not conform.

Love, as we have already discussed, is a powerful, wonderful, ridiculous thing, capable of moving mountains. And spools of thread.

This is the danger of loving: No matter how powerful you are, no matter how many kingdoms you rule, you cannot stop those you love from dying.

Stories are light. Light is precious in a world so dark.

But, reader, there is no comfort in the word "farewell," even if you say it in French. "Farewell" is a word that,in any language, is full of sorrow. It is a word that promises absolutely nothing.

Say it, reader. Say the word 'quest' out loud. It is an extraordinary word, isn't it? So small and yet so full of wonder, so full of hope.

There are those hearts, reader, that never mend again once they are broken. Or if they do mend, they heal themselves in a crooked and lopsided way, as if sewn together by a careless craftsman. Such was the fate of Chiaroscuro. His heart was broken. Picking up the spoon and placing it on his head, speaking of revenge, these things helped him to put his heart together again. But it was, alas, put together wrong.

Despereaux marveled at his own bravery. He admired his own defiance. And then, reader, he fainted.

Did you think that rats do not have hearts? Wrong. All living things have a heart. And the heart of any living thing can be broken.

Love is ridiculous. But love is also wonderful. And powerful. And Despereaux's love for the Princess Pea would prove, in time, to be all of these things: powerful, wonderful, and ridiculous.

Reader, do you think it is a terrible thing to hope when there is really no reason to hope at all? Or is it (as the soldier said about happiness) something that you might just as well do, since, in the end, it really makes no difference to anyone but you?

There ain't a body, be it mouse or man, that ain't made better by a little soup.

Forgiveness, reader, is, I think, something very much like hope and love - a powerful, wonderful thing. And a ridiculous thing, too.

And so he was reading the story as if it were a spell and the words of it, spoken aloud, could make magic happen.

Pea was aware suddenly of how fragile her heart was, how much darkness was inside it, fighting, always, with the light. She did not like the rat. She would neverlike the rat, but she knew what she must do to save her own heart.

And hope is like love...a ridiculous, wonderful, powerful thing.

He was reading from the beginning so that he could get to the end, where the reader was assured that the knight and the fair maiden lived together happily ever after.

the story is not a pretty one. there is violence in it. And cruelty. But stories that are not pretty have a certain value, too, I suppose. Everything, as you well know (having lived in this world long enough to have figured out a thing or two for yourself), cannont always be sweetness and light.

Rats have a sense of humor. Rats, in fact think the world is very funny. And they are right, dear reader. They are right.

The shapes arranged themselves into words, and the words spelled out a delicious and wonderful phrase: Once upon a time.

Despereaux," she whispered. And then she shouted it, "Despereaux!" Reader, nothing is sweeter in this sad world than the sound of someone you love calling your name. Nothing.

Allow me to congratulate you on your very astute powers of observation.

Everything, as you well know . . . cannot always be sweetness and light.

There ain't no point in making soup unless others eat it. Soup needs another mouth to taste it, another heart to be warmed by it.

But still, here are the words Despereaux Tilling spoke to his father. He said, "I forgive you, Pa!" And he said those words because he sensed that it was the only way to save his heart, to stop it from breaking in two. Despereaux, reader, spoke those words to save himself.

I honor you!

When you are a king, you may make as many ridiculous laws as you like. That is what being a king is all about.

Despereaux looked at his father, at his grey-streaked fur and trembling whiskers and his front paws clasped together in front of his heart, and he felt suddenly as if his own heart would break in two. His father looked so small, so sad. "Forgive me," said Lester again. Forgiveness, reader, is, I think, something very much like hope and love, a powerful, wonderful thing. And a ridiculous thing, too. Isn't it ridiculous, after all, to think that a son could forgive his father for beating the drum that sent him to his death? Isn't it ridiculous to think that a mouse ever could forgive anyone for such perfidy? But still, here are the words Despereaux Tilling spoke to his father. He said, "I forgive you, Pa." And he said those words because he sensed it was the only way to save his own heart, to stop it from breaking in two. Despereaux, reader, spoke those words to save himself.

There is somebody who loves me," said Despereaux. "And I love her and that is the only thing that matters to me.

I will be brave, thought Despereaux. I will try to be brave like a knight in shining armour. I will be brave for the Princess Pea.

Do you know what it means to be emphatic? I will tell you: It means that when you are being forcibly taken to a dungeon, when you have a large knife at your back, when you are trying to be brave, you are able, still, to think for a moment of the person who is holding the knife.

Everything, as you well know (having lived in this world long enough to have figured out a thing or two for yourself), cannot always be sweetness and light.

Stories are light. Light is precious in a world so dark. Begin at the beginning. Tell Gregory a story. Make some light." And because Despereaux wanted very much to live, he said, "Once upon a time...

It seems to be that way with most things. No one to do the really disagreeable jobs except oneself.

The world is dark, and light is precious.

He let the light from the upstairs world enter him and fill him. He gasped aloud with the wonder of it.

Reader, you may ask this question; in fact, you must ask this question: Is it ridiculous for a very small, sickly, big-eared mouse to fall in love with a beautiful princess named Pea? The answer is . . . yes. Of course, it's ridiculous. Love is ridiculous. But love is also wonderful. And powerful.

The sound of the king's music made Despereaux's soul grow large and light inside of him.

Reader, do you believe that there is such a thing as happily ever after? Or, like Despereaux, have you, too, begun to question the possibility of happy endings?

At the thought of being eaten by rats, Despereaux forgot about being brave. He forgot about not being a disappointment. He felt himself heading into another faint. But his mother, who had an excellent sense of dramatic timing, beat him to it; she executed a beautiful, flawless swoon, landing right at Despereaux's feet.

And this is a time to act, not wonder.

Are you a man or a mouse?

Desperaux," she said. He saw his name on her lips. "I honor you," whispered Desperaux. "I honor you.

Stories are light.

Why would you save me? Because you, mouse, can tell Gregory a story. Stories are light. Light is precious in a world so dark. Begin at the beginning. Tell Gregory a story. Make some light.' - A Tale of Despereaux, Kate Dicamillo - P. 81

At least Lester had the decency to weep at his act of perfidy. Reader, do you know what 'perfidy' means? I have a feeling you do, based on the scene that unfolded here. But you should look up the word in your dictionary, just to be sure.

Farewell” is not the word that you would like to hear from your mother as you are being led to the dungeon by 2 oversize mice in black hoods. Words that you would like to hear are “Take me instead, I will go to the dungeon in my sons place.” There is a great deal of comfort in those words.

And he discovered, finally, the source of the honey-sweet sound. The sound was music. The sound was King Phillip playing his guitar and singing for his daughter, the Princess Pea, every night before she fell asleep. Hidden in a hole in the wall of the princess's bedroom, the mouse listened with all his heart. The sound of the King's music made Despereaux's soul grow large and light inside of him. Oh," he said, "it sounds like heaven. It smells like honey.

And when times are terrible, soup is the answer.

And now you have a small map of the princess's heart (hatred, sorrow, kindness, empathy), the heart that she carried down inside her as she went down the golden stairs and through the kitchen and, finally, just as the sky outside the castle began to lighten, down into the dark dungeon with the rat and the serving girl.

Stories are light. Light is precious in a world so dark.

This is a wonderful joke to play upon a prisoner, to promise forgiveness.

And he told himself, reader, that it was the cloth that he desired and not the light.

Rat. A curse, an insult, a word totally without light.

Despereaux was reading the story out loud to himself. He was reading from the beginning so that he could get to the end...

Every action, reader, no matter how small, has a consequence.

I'm happy to be going," said Mig, putting a hand up and gently touching one of her cauliflower ears. "Might just as well be happy, seeing as it doesn't make a difference to anyone but you if you are or not," said the soldier.

But, alas, he never really belonged in either place, the sad fate, I am afraid, of those whose hearts break and then mend in crooked ways.

nothing is sweeter in this sad world than the sound of someone you love calling your name.

the story of an unlikely hero

Cerita seperti Cahaya

The rat called Chiaroscuro did not look away. He let the light from the upstairs world enter him and fill him. He gasped aloud with the wonder of it.

Mon Dieu, look, look," says Antoinette. "He lives. He lives! And he seems such the happy mouse." "Forgiven," whispers Lester. "Cripes," says Furlough, "unbelievable." "Just so," says the threadmaster, Hovis, smiling. "Just so." And, reader, it is just so. Isn't it?

Despereaux thought that he might faint with the pleasure of someone referring to his ears as small and lovely. He laid his tail against the Pea's wrist to steady himself and he felt the princess's pulse, the pounding of her heart, and his own heart immediately took up the rhythm of hers.

I ain’t the Princess Pea But someday I will be, The Pea, ha-hee. Someday, I will be.

He'll be dead soon. He can't live', said the father. But reader, he did live. This is the story.

There ain't no way you can hold onto something that wants to go, you understand? You can only love what you got while you got it.

Pea was aware suddenly of how fragile her heart was, how much darkness was inside it, fighting, always, with the light.

Despereaux turned. He looked up and into the Head Mouse's eyes. They were dark eyes, deep and sad and frightened. And as Despereaux looked into them, his heart thudded once, twice.

There are those hearts, reader, that never mend again once they are broken. Or if they do mend, they heal themselves in a crooked and lopsided way, as if sewn together by a careless craftsman.

Furlough?” He said. “What?” said the first hood irritably. Despereaux shuddered. His own brother was delivering him to the dungeon. His heart stopped beating and shrunk to a small, cold, disbelieving pebble.

I don't understand,' said Despereaux. 'And you will not understand until you lose what you love...

The April sun, weak but determined, shone through a castle window and from there squeezed itself through a small hole in the wall and placed one golden finger on the little mouse.

Quest. Say it, reader. Say the word "quest" lout loud. It is an extraordinary word, isn't it? So small and yet so full of wonder, so full of hope.

Kate DiCamillo. They are The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane and The Tale of Despereaux,

I forgive you..." And he said those words because he sensed that it was the only way to save his own heart, to stop it from breaking in two. Despereaux, reader, spoke those words to save himself. ... And then the princess took a deep breath and put a hand on her heart. I think, reader, that she was feeling the same thing that Despereaux had felt when he was faced with his father begging him for forgiveness. That is, Pea, was aware suddenly how fragile her heart was, how much darkness was inside it, fighting, always, with the light, but she knew what she must do to save her own heart. And so, here are the words that the princess spoke to her enemy... Forgiveness... is a a divine attribute and once it is given to those who have hurt you, your own heart begins to heal.

He allowed his brother to lead him to his fate.

Hope is like love...a ridiculous, wonderful, powerful thing.

All living things have a heart. And the heart of any living thing can be broken.

I have never known a mouse who has made it out of the dungeon only to go back into it again. Goodbye, friend. Goodbye, mouse among mice.

His rat soul longed inexplicably for it; he began to think that light was the only thing that gave life meaning, and he despaired that there was so little of it to be had.

There are those hearts, reader, that never mend again once they are broken. Or, if they do mend, they heal themselves in a crooked and lopsided way, as if sewn together by a careless craftsman.

He said, 'I forgive you, Pa." And he said those words because he sensed that it was the only way to save his own heart, to stop it from breaking in two. Despereaux, reader, spoke those words to save himself.

READER, you

Merlot.

King Phillip and his Queen Rosemary

Furlough took him on a tour of the castle to demonstrate the art of scurrying.

Mig watched her father walk away, the red table cloth billowing out behind him. He left his daughter. And, as you already know, he did not look back. Not even once.

But, reader, we must not forget that Kind Phillip loved the queen and that without her, he was lost. This is the danger of loving: No matter how powerful you are, no matter how many kingdoms you rule, you cannot stop those you love from dying.

it.” “You dirty

the smallest glimmer, the tiniest shimmer.

Light.

Perfidy. Pea. Perfidy. Pea. These were the words that pinwheeled through Despereaux’s mind as his body descended into the darkness. DESPEREAUX

smart-alecky

When the powerful are made weak, when they are revealed to be human, to have hearts, their diminishment is nothing short of terrifying.

Did I ask ye how old you were today? Get out of my face before I give ye a good clout to the ear.