Dummy, Dummy, Go Out Now And Fill

I Love You, 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. I Thought An Hour Ago That I Loved You More Than Any Woman Has Ever Loved A Man, But A Half Hour After That I Knew That What I Felt Before Was Nothing Compared To What I Felt Then. But Ten Minutes After That, I Understood That My Previous Love Was A Puddle Compared To The High Seas Before A Storm.

Her Mother Was My Wife," The Count Roared, Loudest Of All. "you Pathetic Excuse For Am Money-grubbing Fool, You Disgrace To The Face Of The World." And With A Shriek Of Disgust He Turned And Was Gone. Guilietta Was Beside Inigo Then, So Excited. "daddy Likes You," She Said.

Writing Is Finally About One Thing: Going Into A Room Alone And Doing It. Putting Words On Paper That Have Never Been There In Quite That Way Before. And Although You Are Physically By Yourself, The Haunting Demon Never Leaves You, That Demon Being The Knowledge Of Your Own Terrible Limitations, Your Hopeless Inadequacy, The Impossibility Of Ever Getting It Right. No Matter How Diamond-bright Your Ideas Are Dancing In Your Brain, On Paper They Are Earthbound.

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.

The First Morning After Westley's Departure, Buttercup Thought She Was Entitled To Do Nothing More Than Sit Around Moping And Feeling Sorry For Herself. After All, The Love Of Her Life Had Fled, Life Had No Meaning, How Could You Face The Future, Et Cetera, Et Cetera.