Do I love you? My God, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches.
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.
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.
He’ll never catch up!” the Sicilian cried. “Inconceivable!” “You keep using that word!” the Spaniard snapped. “I don’t think it means what you think it does.
We have now decided that the poisoned cup is most likely in front of you. But the poison is powder made from iocane and iocane comes only from Australia and Australia, as everyone knows, is peopled with criminals and criminals are used to having people not trust them, as I don’t trust you, which means I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you.
There was no place to take him after Fezzik’s punch landed, except to his own bed, where he remained with his eyes shut for a day and a half, except for when the milkman came to fix his broken jaw – 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, who would know more about broken bones than a milkman?
The sun was rising behind her now; she could feel the heat on her back, and it gave her courage.
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.
The easiest thing to do on earth is not write.
He always avoided arrest, and everyone except Yellin thought Falkbridge must be bribing somebody. Yellin knew he was bribing somebody, since every month, rain or shine, Falkbridge came to Yellin’s house and gave him a sarchel full of money.
Truth is terrific, reality is even better, but believability is the best of all.
Don’t expect too much from life, Buttercup told herself as she rode along. Learn to be satisfied with what you have.
I thought an hour ago that I loved you more than any woman has ever loved a man, but a half hour after that I knew that what I felt before was nothing compared to what I felt then. But ten minutes after that, I understood that my previous love was a puddle compared to the high seas before a storm.
May I please tell you something, Highness? You’re very cold – ” “I’m not – ” “ – very cold and very young, and if you live, I think you’ll turn to hoarfrost – ” “Why do you pick at me? I have come to terms with my life, and that is my affair – I am not cold, I swear, but I have decided certain things, it is best for me to ignore emotion; I have not been happy dealing with it – ” Her heart was a secret garden and the walls were very high.
Jelenka Harvey Harcourt Trade Publishers 15 East 26th Street New York, NY 10010.
Life isn’t fair, Bill. We tell our children that it is, but it’s a terrible thing to do. It’s not only a lie, it’s a cruel lie. Life is not fair, and it never has been, and it’s never going to be.
The village boys. The beef-witted featherbrained rattleskulled clodpated dim-domed noodle-noggined sapheaded lunk-knobbed boys.
You just keep thinking, Butch; that’s what you’re good at.
You mock my pain! Life is pain, anyone who says otherwise is obviously selling something!
This is my favorite book in all the world, though I have never read it. How is such a thing possible? I’ll do my best to explain.
I’m not crazy; I’m just colorful.