Maleficent: Listen well, all of you. The Princess shall indeed grow in grace and beauty. Beloved by all who know her, but before the sunsets on her 16th birthday, she shall prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and DIE!

Fauna: You know sometimes I don't think she's really very happy. *about Maleficent*

Maleficent's goon: ...and all the cradles.
Maleficent: Cradle?
Maleficent's goon: Uh...yep. Hahahaha. Every cradle.
Maleficent: Cradle?! Did you hear that my pet? All these years they've been looking for a baby. Oh. *laughs* Fools! Idiots! Imbeciles!

*about the dress*
Merryweather: It looks awful.
Flora: That's because it's on you dear.

Flora: Good gracious! Who left the mop running?
Merryweather: Stop, mop!

Maleficent: I have plans for our royal guest.

Maleficent: Silence!

Maleficent: Forest of thorns shall be his tomb! Bond through the skies with a thought of doom! Now go with the curse and serve me well! Round Stefan's castle, cast my spell!