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

The Countess was considerably younger than her husband. All of her clothes came from Paris (this was after Paris) and she had superb taste. (This was after taste too, but only just. And since it was such a new thing, and since the Countess was the only lady in all Florin to posses it, is it any wonder she was the leading hostess in the land?)

"I could give you my word as a Spaniard," Inigo said. "No good," the man in black replied. "I've known too many Spaniards."

You have a dizzying intellect.

I'm not witch. I'm your wife.

Flailing and thrashing, Buttercup wept and tossed and paced and wept some more, and there have been three great cases of jealousy since David of Galilee was first afflicted with the emotion when he could no longer stand the fact that his neighbor Saul's cactus outshone his own. (Originally, jealousy pertained solely to plants, other people's cactus or ginkgoes, or, later, when there was grass, grass, which is why, even to this day, we say that someone is green with jealousy.) Buttercup's case rated a close fourth on the all-time list. It was a very long and very green night.

Yes, I am a failed playwright. I had three shows on Broadway by the time I was 30. They all flopped, and I fled.