“Then let’s say God puts two people on Earth and they are lucky enough to find one another. But one of them gets hit by lightning. Well then what? Is that it? Or, perchance, you meet someone new and marry all over again. Is that the lady you’re supposed to be with or was it the first? And if so, when the two of them were walking side by side were they both the one for you and you just happened to meet the first one first or, was the second one supposed to be first? And is everything just chance or are some things meant to be?” (Ever After: A Cinderella Story, 1998)
Once upon a time I used to romanticize. Used to be somebody – never mind. Don’t miss it that much now, I think it’s sinking in; days that I wonder where I’ve been. In picture perfect porcelain? But I won’t lose a pound. You say I would make a better liar and never face the music when it’s dire, and I breathe disaster, ever after. Don’t pull away from me now. Don’t you move, can’t you stay where you are, just for now? I could be your perfect disaster, you could be my ever after. You could be my ever after, after all. I could be your perfect disaster, you could be my ever after. Apologies, I’m not myself but I can guarantee that when I get back, you won’t believe that you knew me well. Don’t want to think about it, I’m fuckin’ tired of getting sick about it. Now stand back up and be a man about it, and fight for something, fight for something, fight for something, oh.