Quotes from William Goldman

Inigo Montoya: He's right on top of us. I wonder if he is using the same wind we are using.

I say you are a coward and you are; I think you hunt only to reassure yourself that you are not what you are: the weakest thing to ever walk the Earth. He will come for me and then we will be gone, and you will be helpless for all your hunting, because Westley and I are joined by the bond of love and you cannot track that, not with a thousand bloodhounds, and you cannot break it, not with a thousand swords.

And what have I done? What? WHAT?...You've stolen them. With that, Cornelia fled, but Buttercup understood; she knew who them was. The boys. The beef-witted featherbrained rattledskulled clodpated dim-domed noodle-noggined sapheaded lunk-knobbed BOYS.

Everyone had told her, since she became a princess-in-training, that she was very likely the most beautiful woman in the world. Now she was going to be the richest and the most powerful as well. Don't expect too much from life, Buttercup told herself as she rode along. Learn to be satisfied with what you have.

It was only when the giant got halfway down the incline that he suddenly, happily, burst into flame and continued his trip saying, NO SURVIVORS, NO SURVIVORS! in a manner that could only indicate deadly sincerity. It was seeing him happily burning and advancing that startled the Brute Squad to screaming. And once that happened, why, everybody panicked and ran...

Westley and I are joined by the bond of love and you cannot track that, not with a thousand bloodhounds, and you cannot break it, not with a thousand swords.

Enough about my beauty, Buttercup said. Everybody always talks about how beautiful I am. I've got a mind, Westley. Talk about that.

I just know once you're over your emotional outbursts, you'll come up with-' I mean if we even had a wheelbarrow, that would be something,' Westley said.

While he was watching the ships, Buttercup shoved him with all her strength remaining. Down went the man in black. You can die too for all I care, she said, and then she turned away. Words followed her. Whispered from afar, weak and warm and familiar. As...you...wish...

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.

Tr...ooooo...luv...' Fezzik grabbed onto Inigo in panic and they both pivoted, staring at the man in black, who was silent again. 'True love, he said,' Inigo cried. 'You heard him - true love is what he wants to come back for. That's certainly worthwhile.' 'Sonny, don't you tell me what's worthwhile - true love is the best thing in the world, except for cough drops. Everybody knows that.

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.

I mean if we even had a wheelbarrow, that would be something.

Nobody knows anything...... Not one person in the entire motion picture field knows for a certainty what's going to work. Every time out it's a guess and, if you're lucky, an educated one.

The hollowness was in his arms and the world was snowing.

Life is pain. Anyone who says otherwise is selling something.

Never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line.

When was the last time you read a book? The truth now. And picture books don't count-I mean something with print in it.

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.

My Westley will come for me.

Westley closed his eyes. There was pain coming and he had to be ready for it. He had to prepare his brain, he had to get his mind controlled and safe from their efforts, so that they could not break him. He would not let them break him. He would hold together against anything and all. If only they gave him sufficient time to make ready, he knew he could defeat pain. It turned out they gave him sufficient time (it was months before the Machine was ready). But they broke him anyway.

Inside and out, Westley's world was ripping apart and he could do nothing but crack along with it.

The tears that kept Buttercup company the remainder of the day were not at all like those that had blinded her into the tree trunk. Those were noisy and hot; they pulsed. These were silent and steady and all they did was remind her that she wasn't good enough. She was seventeen, and every male she'd ever known had crumbled at her feet and it meant nothing. The one time it really mattered, she wasn't good enough.

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.