Labyrinth

Then Jareth began to move, all over the seven perspectives, and Sarah watched him as he moved. He seemed to walk along ceilings and climb descending stairs. He danced on high walls. And as he moved he called to her, “You are cruel, Sarah. We are well matched, you and I. I need your cruelty, just as you need mine.”

Above, below, or around her — which, she could not tell — was a vast stone hall, with so many staircases, balconies, windows, and doorways at different heights and odd angles to each other that she had no idea what was up or down, near or far, inside or out, backward or forward. Planes reversed themselves as you watched them, receding corners suddenly jutted out, rising steps inverted themselves, floors became ceilings, and walls turned into precipices. In this room, it seemed that the law of gravity had been repealed, and perspective had seven dimensions. If there had been water, it would have seemed to flow uphill. She felt sick and giddy, and had to cling to a pillar to remain upright.

As long as she went on looking at the hall, it went on altering. Does it still go on altering, she wondered dizzily, when no one is looking at it?

"Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle..."

“And when you’ve found your way in, stay in your dream, Sarah.” Jareth’s eyes were looking straight into hers. His smile was serious. “Believe me. If you want to be truly free, wholly yourself — you do want that, don’t you?”

Sarah nodded.

“Then you will find what you want only as long as you stay in your dream. Once abandon it, and you are at the mercy of other people’s dreams. They will make of you what they want you to be. Forget them, Sarah. Trust to your dream.”

She smiled up at him. She thought how handsome he was, but one didn’t tell a man such things, did one? More than that, there was something in his face that was openly enjoying the moment, without the mocking or secretiveness that she had seen on other faces here.

Sarah looked at the peach almost with regret. It was a pity to spoil such a lovely thing. Although that was the point, wasn’t it? A peach made itself lovely just so that someone would spoil it

The sky was the color of cast iron, and the forest plants looked shriveled, as though the sun had never shone on them since their first day on earth.

Mind what you say to a beggar, it might be God in disguise.

Mind what you say to a beggar, it might be God in disguise.