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“WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE: RAPUNZEL
For horse thieving, kidnapping, jail breaking, and using her hair in a manner other than nature intended!
REWARD”
― Shannon Hale, Rapunzel's Revenge

“When Rapunzel saw the prince, she fell over him and began to weep, and her tears dropped into his eyes”
― Marissa Meyer, Cress

“Hey, times are tough, and thirty gold coins can do a lot of good. But I guess you wouldn't know about needing money, since you grew up like a little princ..."
(Rapunzel glares)
"Prin... soner. I mean, prisoner! A prisoner in a tower, such a shame, that.”
― Shannon Hale

“Crazy loves company, Sir Clay.”
― Marissa Meyer, Winter

“When she was a child, the witch locked her away in a tower that had neither doors nor stairs.”
― Marissa Meyer, Cress

“The witch snipped off her golden hair and cast her out into a great desert”
― Marissa Meyer, Cress

“You’re supposed to be dead.â€�

“So I’ve heard.”
― Madisyn Carlin, Key

“Soon Rapunzel's hair spilled out around her like a silver pond sparkling in the sunlight, or a frozen one in the moonlight. When the breeze shifted the branches above, the sun hit her tresses and its light scattered everywhere. The whole area under the tree was illuminated with shifting, dappled scintillations.
Rapunzel wondered what it would look like from far away, from high above: would she look like a funny star? Were all the stars out there maidens with strange hair?”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“Now directly above her, transiting the meridian, was the new crescent moon. No longer a chalky white, it was as silver as a piece of polished jewelry, somehow shining and sparkling despite the fact that it should have been nearly invisible that close to the sun, traveling through his bright day.
"Oh, how pret---" Rapunzel started to say, but then she was distracted because her hair began to glow.
Just like when she killed the chickens-- but more.
Brilliantly, with the white light of the diamonds of her (Flynn's) crown, with the whiteness she imagined the foam of a midnight sea would look like. She picked up a hank of hair and let it hang from her hands; it was like holding molten silver chains or all the distant rivers seen from her tower, gathered up together by some unimaginable fairy-tale giant.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“Okay, nope. No fainting for you. Not today.â€� His reflexes were subpar at best, and the last thing he wanted was her to sustain injury during the fall.”
― Madisyn Carlin, Key

“The truth about you is all tangled, like your braids, Rapunzel. Bound up unnaturally. It's time to let it all down, to let it out, let it go. We must free you from the chains of your past-- but first we need to free your beautiful hair.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“Her hair glowed.
It shimmered and shone and pulsed, the full length of it flowing behind Rapunzel and lighting up the undersides of the trees and throwing soft illumination on all the paler leaves and mushrooms, gleaming for a moment where it hit a drop of dew or sap. The moths who had fled returned, like a fluttering train of silken flowers on a long, magical wedding veil, following the mesmerizing river of silver light.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“She took out a charcoal stick and began to sketch-- on the workbench itself. Of course the moon wouldn't come to her in songs or poems or crystals or whatever... she felt the most centered, the most tranquil, when she was painting or drawing. Lost in her own world or in new ones she imagined. She shouldn't have made a chart; she should have drawn a circle, with the moons going from waxing to waning all the way around...
She hummed to herself a little, the way she always did when she painted.
Her hair began to glow.
A little shading here, a few light strokes in the middle of the full moon for the face that Rapunzel saw there... Circles and shadows and crosshatching... She worked extra hard on the profile of the fatter waxing crescent, where the moon would be now. She knew what it looked like as she felt her hand shape it.
Her power surged; her hair began to sparkle.
She looked around frantically for something to release her magic on. The first thing she saw was her tea, so she grabbed the red clay cup and wrapped the end of a braid around it.
Just like with Pascal, sparks sprayed off her hair and over the object.
When they faded they revealed...
... a heavy, crude clay cup.
Rapunzel started to slump in disappointment-- and then noticed something. Where the hair had touched the sides, the cup was now shiny black, like onyx or obsidian.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“She managed to summon her powers twice more by gazing at her mandala, and was tickled with the results: she turned her bright red coral bracelet glittering black, and a dish of pale yellow dye a bluish black. Of course she had no idea if the color was set by the phase of the moon or if it was simply the way she thought about the moon, set in a blue-black sky. But imagine if she could summon any color! She would never have to worry about getting the right paints again.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“She waved desperately, putting her hand out the window, but wasn't sure anyone would be able to see it.
"What can I do? What can I do to show them that I'm alive?" she wailed.
Pascal just looked at her.
"Oh, right," she said. "Not thinking at all. Thanks, buddy."
She gathered up as much of her hair as she could and flung it through the window. Hard.
Like a thousand baby spiders parachuting into the sky, it glittered and sparkled-- completely unmagically, just because of the sunlight-- before falling down to hang along the wall of the tower, rippling in the wind.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“They wanted me to not have any hope of returning, so they royally ordered her to tell me all that."
"Then why give you anything with the royal sigil on it?" Flynn asked quietly. "If they didn't want you to know who you were? Like your pretty red bracelet there. Tirulian red coral, handwrought chain, pure gold clasp-- yes, yes, I totally sized it up. And the royal sun on the back."
Rapunzel looked at her bracelet in wonder. The little sun, constant companion of her childhood, in mobiles, embroidered on her clothing, on the little gifts Gothel sometimes gave her, the crown... That was the symbol of the royal house? Her whole life had been hints of the truth, everywhere!”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“She didn't know much about real princesses except for in fairy tales, and books like #27: Legends from the Time of Knights. Gawain and Roland and his tower and the like. Princesses were often the points on which plots turned, the fulcrum that sped the hero along on his journey of becoming legendary, dead, or both. Sometimes the princesses were good-hearted and the knights fought valiantly for their honor. Sometimes they were evil and used witchy machinations to control the people around them, lacking any real power over their own lives.
But honestly Rapunzel didn't remember a whole lot about either kind. They were boring. She loved the swordsmanship of the knights and did her best to reenact it with broom handles and frying pans, dancing back and forth on her feet to evade imaginary blows.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“He didn't think they were all after a criminal. He suspected it was an innocent girl.
Well, a beautiful young woman, really; as comely as his niece Tasha, who was so clever with her loom and quick with her tongue. But this girl had extraordinary silver hair-- a color so unusual the captain had seen it only once before in his long years in the guard.
On a royal princess, a tiny baby, dead to the world.
In fairy tales and myths, when children were given up because of a prophecy or because the family was starving, they did disappear into the world for a while-- and then came back years later like a cicada, bringing the power of youth and the unavoidable anger of the gods with them.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“Without knowing why, she brought her hair up to Pascal again. She knew he wouldn't be hurt. The little lizard was intrigued by whatever was going on; he nosed into her locks like a curious kitten.
Immediately the sparkles that pulsed through her hair danced around him, falling and flickering. Soon they completely covered the little lizard like snow. Rapunzel watched, enchanted.
Then he sneezed. Embers of magic flicked and faded as they fell to the earth.
Rapunzel gasped.
Pascal was perfectly fine.
He just wasn't-- Pascal.
He was an entirely different lizard. A lizard Rapunzel had never seen before, in books or anywhere. His eyes were now two balls that perched on the sides of his head and looked around independently of each other. His back was a graceful arch. His feet had two pairs of strange toes that opened up in the middle like claws. And his tail! It curled around and around and clasped onto her arm- prehensile and grasping, not a limp thing that just hung there to help with balance (and to occasionally break off and confuse a predator).
And he was looking at himself! Holding his feet out one at a time and admiring them, thwacking the tip of his tail and snapping his mouth in satisfaction. Like a... person. He thoughtfully gazed back at his body, considering it.
His skin suddenly started to change color: a wave of brown, and then red, pulsed through him from nose to tail.
"Pascal!" Rapunzel cried. "You're a dragon!"
She only wished he had turned into a slightly larger dragon so she could ride and/or hug him.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“The moon repeated her phases on the exact same solar calendar day once every nineteen years.
And she had just turned nineteen! So nineteen years ago, at this time, the moon would have been new.
She would have been just born, and her magic would have been deadly. So that explained the nurse.
But the other times?
She couldn't remember. All she could clearly think of was that once when she was very, very upset about killing a game hen- more than usual- she had gone to weep and look out the window for hours. The sky was as black as her mind and spirit felt, and the usually comforting stars were pinprick harsh, untwinkling. Each was a stab into her heart. There was no moon.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“Then she got to work.
Thinking a bit of organization would help, Rapunzel took out the wanted poster of Flynn and made a chart on the back, dividing the rectangle into twenty-eight days. She wrote the moon phases neatly on each. On Day One, New Moon, she wrote Murderhair. Now it was Day Six; Waxing Crescent. Under this she wrote Transformative-- Lizard to Dragon. Day 8 would be Waxing Half Moon-- that would be exciting, right? Maybe that would mean a really big change in her powers. For Day 15, Full Moon, she wrote Healing?
She looked at her neat little chart and felt very pleased with herself.
Projects.
They were the best.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“Boys and girls come out to play...'"
"'The moon doth shine as bright as day!'" Rapunzel finished.
She thought of the bright, cold winter full moon that cast a light so strong that windows in her tower lit up like magic, and instead of sunbeams, blue moonbeams traced the floor. She would run to the tower window....
Leave your supper and leave your sleep...
... and the whole world would be white and blue, as bright as daytime, but with a glowing, magical scrim. Rapunzel had felt like she could dive into it, fly over the whole world in its strange state.
And join your playfellows in the street.
Her hair began to glow.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“Rapunzel," Gothel repeated. "Now! Before they see you!"
"They?"Rapunzel demanded. She felt anger boiling up from her stomach, bile and venom. "Which they, Mother? The ones who were bidding for my hand in marriage-- or just the ones in the employ of a sadistic monster?"
Gothel's face twitched between impatience and irritation.
"Rapunzel, I never meant for you to wind up with Bathory. She's a terrible woman. I was coming to save you from her!"
"Who did you mean for me to wind up with, then? The one who gave you the most money?”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“You're a liar, and worse-- you broke my heart. You're not a mother. You're a villain."
Gothel's eyes went wide. Her mouth opened and hung there as though even she was a little curious as to what she would say, what words would come and bring the situation back under her control.
"I would rather take my chances with an honest villain like Bathory!" Rapunzel hissed. "Get out of my sight and never let me see you again!"
"Or what?" Gothel asked, a knowing, nasty tone in her voice: her real voice. "What could you do to me, Rapunzel? I am your mother, and besides that I control all of these sword-playing idiots."
"Did you forget that I'm a crown princess? And a powerful witch who can control her hair now. Or did you think the castle just fell on its own today?
"Either way, your time with me is over, if you know what is good for you."
The two women glared at each other.
And after a minute, Rapunzel realized that's what they were: two women. Despite being younger and shorter than Gothel, she wasn't a girl anymore. She had power and will and a stubborn disposition.
"Go. Now," she ordered. "Never approach me again."
Her mother started to growl something--
"What's that? I can't hear you. All that mumbling," Rapunzel said airily, and walked away, turning her back on the woman forever.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“Wondrous..." was the last thing Captain Tregsburg ever said.
When Rapunzel wearily opened her eyes, there was a magnificent white horse where the captain had been.
There was dried blood on its pure white flanks, what looked like an old, healed wound on its belly-- and an ecstatic look in its eye.
It rose onto its feet, trumpeting out a whinny of triumph, kicking its front legs and tossing its mane back and forth.
"Oh," Rapunzel said, dismayed. "I didn't-- I'm sorry--"
But Justin "Maximus" Tregsburg, captain of the royal guard and now shining white stallion, gently nuzzled her cheek. He was... happy.
"I'm glad you're all right," Rapunzel said, hugging him. "I'm sorry we never got to talk."
The stallion rolled his eyes and tossed his head: What's the use of talk, he seemed to say.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“Why," Rapunzel asked, "did the Black want to become mortality? Why make humans who can die if you can make fairies? What's the point?"
Glyph smiled a little. "You have joined the great search," she said.
"For what?"
"The answer.”
― Megan Morrison

“Why do you want power at all? What do you do with it?â€�

“I keep myself alive,â€� said Witch. “Beyond that, I do whatever I wish. Power is power. Without power, others make your choices for you. With power, your life is your own. I will not suffer myself to be controlled by anyone. Never again.”
― Megan Morrison

“A low growl rumbled in her throat. “Not magic. Sweat and pain and determination, Gadrel. That’s what gets things done. Not magic.”
― C.H. Lyn, A Voice in the Tower

“Bravery, prince?â€� Gadrel’s voice dripped with disdain. “That will get you nowhere in this world.â€� He glanced up at Riva. “You swear it? On his life? You swear to obey me if I release him?”
― C.H. Lyn, A Voice in the Tower

“You were my new dream.”
― Flynn Rider