Hello there, Inigo hollered when he could wait no more.The man in black glanced up and grunted.I've been watching you.The man in black nodded.Slow going, Inigo said.Look, I don't mean to be rude, the...
He held up a book then. I'm going to read it to you for relax.Does it have any sports in it?Fencing. Fighting. Torture. Poison. True Love. Hate. Revenge. Giants. Hunters. Bad men. Good men. Beautifule...
For the pedant, dates are deities, worthy of worship, but for the true social historian, they are minutiae only, a shorthand, convenient reminders and no more. You do not ask a Titanic survivor, ‘Let...
Duhhhhhhh, tanks, Buttercup.
Don't expect too much from life, Buttercup told herself as she rode along. Learn to be satisfied with what you have.
Do you love me, Westley? Is that it?’ He couldn’t believe it. ‘Do I love you? My God, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches. If your love were—‘ ‘I don’t understand th...
Can you guess what I'm doing?Cutting my heart out.You took mine when I was ten; I want yours now. We are lovers of justice, you and I—what could be more just than that?
A sailor? A common sailor? A common ordinary seaman bests the great Inigo Montoya with the sword? In-con-ceiv-a-ble. He must be the Dread Pirate Roberts. Otherwise it makes no sense.
He looked as much like Karl as Cuddles Sakall resembled Argentina Rocca.
You had to admire a guy who called his own new book a classic before it was published and anyone else had a chance to read it.
Well, you haven’t once said you loved me.’‘That’s all you need? Easy. I love you. Okay? Want it louder? I love you. Spell it out, should I? I ell-oh-vee-ee why-oh-you. Want it backward? You love I.
We have more than hope, Buttercup said. There is true love.
This was not before doctors, but in Turkey they hadn't gotten around to claiming the bone business yet; milkmen still were in charge of bones, the logic being that since milk was so good for bones, wh...
This is my favorite book in all the world, though I have never read it.
The only actual change that had come over him in the past years was that, for some reason, his impediment had gotten worse. Mawidge, he said. Vewy old.
The new doctors all agreed on various tried-and-true medications, and within forty-eight hours of their coming on the case, the King was dead.
The first morning after Westley's departure, Buttercup thought she was entitled to do nothing more than sit around moping and feeling sorry for herself. After all, the love of her life had fled, life...
The enemy is always in the mind.
No. Not yet. A craftsman only. But I dream to be an artist. I pray that someday, if I work with enough care, if I am very very lucky, I will make a weapon that is a work of art. Call me an artist then...
If there's ever a question about anything, you can always count on me to get it wrong.
