"We’ll never survive!” “Nonsense. You’re only saying that because no one ever has."

Buttercup's mother whirled on him. 'Did you forget to pay your taxes?' (This was after taxes. But everything is after taxes. Taxes were here even before stew.)

I love you,” Buttercup said. “I know this must come as something of a surprise, since all I’ve ever done is scorn you and degrade you and taunt you, but I have loved you for several hours now, and every second, more.

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

Good night, Westley. Good work. Sleep well. I'll most likely kill you in the morning.

Being a screenwriter is not enough for a full creative life.

Anybody that says different is selling something.