Buttercup's Mother Whirled On Him. 'did You

Life Is Pain, Highness. Anyone Who Tells You Differently Is Selling Something.

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.

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.

The Boys. The Village Boys. The Beef-witted Featherbrained Rattleskulled Clodpated Dimdomed Noodle-noggined Sapheaded Lunk-knobbed Boys. How Could Anybody Accuse Her Of Stealing Them? Why Would Anybody Want Them Anyway?

For You See Each Day I Love You More Today More Than Yesterday And Less Than Tomorrow. Just Because You're Beautiful And Perfect, It's Made You Conceited.