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 had no meaning, how could you face the future, et cetera, et cetera.
I guess the most amazing thing about crying though is that when you’re in it, you think it’ll go on forever but it never really lasts half what you think. Not in terms of real time. In terms of real emotions, it’s worse than you think, but not by the clock.
Flaws would not only bring death but, far worse, humiliation.
The hollowness was in his arms and the world was snowing.
Duhhhhhhh, tanks, Buttercup.
I’m not witch. I’m your wife.
Mawwage. Mawwage is what bwings us together today.
There are always too few perfect breasts in this world; leave yours alone.
Inigo Montoya: He’s right on top of us. I wonder if he is using the same wind we are using.
I mean if we even had a wheelbarrow, that would be something.
The boys. The beef-witted featherbrained rattleskulled clod-pated dim-domed noodle-noggined sapheaded lunk-knobbed boys. How could anybody accuse her of stealing them? Why would anybody want them anyway?
I don’t guess. I think. I ponder. I deduce. Then I decide. But I never guess.
If all that’s going on in your scenes is what’s going on in your scenes, think about it a long time.
You can never trust what you read.
I know something you do not know. I am not left-handed either.
Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something. If this is true, or if you are one of the people who believe this is true, then the one universal way to enjoy life is still the same, which is to learn to be grateful that it is not worse!!
Whoever invented the meeting must have had Hollywood in mind. I think they should consider giving Oscars for meetings: Best Meeting of the Year, Best Supporting Meeting, Best Meeting Based on Material from Another Meeting.
Let’s look on the bright side: we’re having an adventure, Fezzik, and most people live and die without being as lucky as we are.
You are wonderful, Father.“”I’m more than wonderful, how dare you insult me.
I seemed busy, busy, busy, but I suppose, if pressed, I might have admitted that, for all my frenzy, I was very much alone.