Quotes from William Goldman

Funny thing- Morgenstern's folk's were named Max and Valerie and his father was a doctor.

Death of the heart,' the subtitle says, Whose death? And even more important maybe, whose heart?

The old man nodded. "Now I can die." She glanced at him. "Don't." Her tone was surprisingly tender, and probably she sensed how important he really was to her, because when he did die, two years further on, she went right after, and most of the people who knew her well agreed it was the sudden lack of opposition that undid her.

Stop saying that word. It was inconceivable that anyone could follow us, but when we looked behind, there was the man in black. It was inconceivable that anyone could sail as fast as we could sail, and yet he gained on us. Now this too is inconceivable, but look—look—" and the Spaniard pointed down through the night. "See how he rises.

Princess. By S. Morgenstern. It's a kids' classic. Tell him I'll quiz him on it when I'm back next week and that he doesn't have to like it or anything, but if he doesn't, tell him I'll kill myself. Give him that message exactly please; I wouldn't want to apply any extra pressure or anything.

A word? the Sicilian said, raising his arms. His mile was more angelic than his face Buttercup halted. Speak. We are but poor circus performers, the Sicilian explained, It is dark and we are lost. We were told there was a village nearby that might enjoy our skills. You were misinformed, Buttercup told him, There is no one, not for many miles. Then there will be no one to hear you scream.

You're right," the Turk agreed, staring back. "He isn't gaining on us. He's just getting closer, that's all.

Westley y yo estamos unidos por el lazo del amor y eso es algo a lo que no podréis seguirle el rastro ni con mil sabuesos, algo que no podéis romper ni con mil espadas.

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.

You mean you'll put down your rock and I'll put down my sword and we'll try to kill each other like civilized people, is that

the chapters on whaling in MOBY DICK can be omitted by all but the most punishment-loving readers.

Screenplays are structure, and that's all they are. The quality of writing—which is crucial in almost every other form of literature—is not what makes a screenplay work. Structure isn't anything else but telling the story, starting as late as possible, starting each scene as late as possible. You don't want to begin with "Once upon a time," because the audience gets antsy.

This was long after hairdressers; in truth, ever since there have been women, there have been hairdressers, Adam being the first, though the King James scholars do their very best to muddy this point.)

The Count was Prince Humperdink's only confidant. His last name was Rugen, but no one needed to use it - he was the only Count in the country, the title having been bestowed by the Prince as a birthday present some years before, the happening taking place, naturally, at one of the Countess' parties.

Not so much wonderful as perfect, she replied. Kind of flawless. More or less magnificent. Without blemish. Rather on the ideal side. She looked at the Prince. Am I being helpful? I

You're an enemy of art and I pity your ignorance

Terrible things can happen when you're overtired. I was overtired the night your father proposed.

So you think this is a trap then? the Count said. I think everything is a trap. which is why I am still alive. said the prince

I'm not trying to make this a downer, understand. I mean, I really do think that love is the best thing in the world, except for cough drops. But I also have to say, for the umpty-umpth time, that life isn't fair. It's just fairer than death, that's all.

God grant you your quota of smiles.

Back when we were on the farm, I thought I loved you, but that was not love. When I saw your face behind the mask on the ravine floor, I thought I loved you, but that was again nothing more than deep infatuation. Beloved: I think I love you now, and I pray you only give me the chance to spend my life in constant proving.

Guess?" Vizzini cried. "I don't guess. I think. I ponder. I deduce. Then I decide. But I never guess.

We are men of action. Lies do not become us.

you miserable vomitous mass