Beata Maria, you know I am a righteous man, Of my virtue I am justly proud Beata Maria, you know I'm so much purer than, The common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd. Then tell me, Maria, Why I see her dancing there, Why her smold'ring eyes still scorch my soul? I feel her, I see her, The sun caught in her raven hair,
I am nothing... You are wind and water and sky, Jodie. Tell me, Jodie, how I can earn your love... I would swim oceans, I would move mountains, I would do anything for you...
What do you want me to do?
—John Hinckley, Assassins. He ends up shooting Ronald Reagan.
It's the stupid details that my heart is breaking for It's the way your shoulders shake and what they're shaking for It's knowing that he knows you now after only guessing I want you
It's the thought of him undressing you or you undressing.
