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.

He was the mighty Fezzik, lover of rhymes, and you did not give up, no matter what.

Why do you wear a mask and hood?" I think everybody will in the near future," was the man in black's reply. "They're terribly comfortable.

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.

Inconceivable!" "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.

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.

True love is the best thing in the world, except for cough drops.