You Have No Power Over Me

Through dangers untold,
and hardships unnumbered
I have fought my way here to the castle
beyond the goblin city
to take back the child you have stolen

And then Sarah screws up her face and asks herself what that line was again. The one she always forgets. I remember as a child watching Labyrinth, fists clenched, shouting at the screen that last line in the same way you scream at the non-virgin friend in the horror movie not to look behind that door, or go into the garage alone, or ask the dark room, "is anyone in there?"

You have no power over me.

How could Sarah forget that line? How could anyone?

I think it has something to do with the those untold dangers and unnumbered hardships. It’s easy to forget the foundation of your story while traveling the twists and turns of the Labyrinth. The magical and sometimes awful things you meet distract you: fairies that bite, crystals that show your dreams, muppets that throw their heads, the bog of Eternal Stench, all dancing to the tune of the ticking clock who’s time can be shortened at the whim of the man who calls himself the Goblin King.

Watching the movie, you don’t really experience the hardships. You might see Sarah, Hoggle, and Bluto gag at the smell of the bog, or marvel at the masque ball held in a crystal soap bubble, but you can’t smell the stench, you don’t dance, and you will never taste the poisoned peach. Until you’ve made the journey for yourself, you don’t know what it is to forget the most important part of the script. The last line.

You have no power over me.

After you have jumped from the stairs that only lead back to themselves, met the Goblin King and found the courage to say your piece, then you will feel how that final line echoes in your heart. What it really means.

You have no power over me.

Only then can those words set you free.