Ivy Walker: When we are married, will you dance with me? I find dancing very agreeable. Why can you not say what is in your head?
Lucius Hunt: Why can you not stop saying what is in yours? Why must you lead, when I want to lead? If I want to dance I will ask you to dance. If I want to speak I will open my mouth and speak. Everyone is forever plaguing me to speak further. Why? What good is it to tell you you are in my every thought from the time I wake? What good can come from my saying that I sometimes cannot think clearly or do my work properly? What gain can rise of my telling you the only time I feel fear as others do is when I think of you in harm? That is why I am on this porch, Ivy Walker. I fear for your safety before all others. And yes, I will dance with you on our wedding night.
--The Village (2004)
I need to know your thoughts,
because I inhabit a sphere of insecurity
where everything is magnified and brutally truthful.
I must hear you say the words,
if only to assure myself that this moment,
holds as much promise and beauty
as the next day.
I want us to dance
and then all the words you cannot say,
will reveal themselves by the rhythm of our steps.
And if indeed, there is a wedding night
you are free
as much as you wish
to not speak your mind.