Enough About My Beauty," Buttercup Said. "everybody

I Am Your Prince And You Will Marry Me," Humperdinck Said. Buttercup Whispered, "i Am Your Servant And I Refuse." "i Am You Prince And You Cannot Refuse." "i Am Your Loyal Servant And I Just Did." "refusal Means Death." "kill Me Then.

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.

The Tears That Kept Buttercup Company The Remainder Of The Day Were Not At All Like Those That Had Blinded Her Into The Tree Trunk. Those Were Noisy And Hot; They Pulsed. These Were Silent And Steady And All They Did Was Remind Her That She Wasn’t Good Enough. She Was Seventeen, And Every Male She’d Ever Known Had Crumbled At Her Feet And It Meant Nothing. The One Time It Really Mattered, She Wasn’t Good Enough.

You Could Concentrate Much More Deeply When You Were Alone With Agony.

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.