Peter: Oh, The Cleverness Of Me. Wendy:

You Were Hidden Behind Walls Of Ice; No Man Had Passed Them; I Broke Them Down And Love Leapt To Love, And You Lie Here, My Beautiful, Love In The Arms Of Its Lover.

The Useless Men Are Those Who Never Change With The Years.

He Was A Poet; And They Are Never Exactly Grown-up.

You Always Know After You Are Two. Two Is The Beginning Of The End.

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