...and Thus It Will Go On, So

I'm Youth, I'm Joy, I'm A Little Bird That Has Broken Out Of The Egg.

I Taught You To Fight And To Fly. What More Could There Be?

Oh The Gladness Of Their Gladness When They're Glad, And The Sadness Of Their Sadness When They're Sad; But The Gladness Of Their Gladness, And The Sadness Of Their Sadness, Are As Nothing To Their Badness When They're Bad

Wendy: Sir, You Are Both Ungallant And Deficient! Peter: How Am I Deficient? Wendy: You're Just A Boy.

She Liked His Tears So Much That She Put Out Her Beautiful Finger And Let Them Run Over It. Her Voice Was So Low That At First He Could Not Make Out What She Said. Then He Made It Out. She Was Saying That She Thought She Could Get Well Again If Children Believed In Fairies.