| Westley: |
"To the pain," means the first thing you lose
will be your feet below the ankles, then your hands at the
wrists, next your nose. |
| Prince Humperdinck: |
And, then my tongue I suppose. I killed you
too quickly the last time; a mistake I don't mean to duplicate
tonight. |
| Westley: |
I wasn't finished. The next thing you lose
will be your left eye, followed by the right . . . |
| Prince Humperdinck: |
And, then my ears, I understand. Let's get
on with it. |
| Westley: |
Wrong! Your ears you keep, and I'll tell you
why. So that every shriek of every child at seeing your hideousness
will be yours to cherish, every babe that weeps at your approach,
every woman who cries out: "Dear God, what is that thing?"
will echo in your perfect ears. That is what "to the pain"
means. It means I leave you in anguish, wallowing in freakish
misery, forever. |
| ----- |
| Inigo Montoya: |
I admit it, you are better than I am. |
| Westley: |
Then why are you smiling? |
| Inigo Montoya: |
Because I know something you don't know. |
| Westley: |
And, what is that? |
| Inigo Montoya: |
I am not left handed. |
| ----- |
| Vizzini: |
Inconceivable. |
| Inigo Montoya: |
You keep using that word. I do not think it
means, what you think it means. |
| ----- |
| Inigo Montoya: |
Who are you? |
| Westley: |
No one of consequence. |
| Inigo Montoya: |
I must know. |
| Westley: |
Get used to disappointment. |
| ----- |
| Westley: |
There's a shortage of perfect breasts in this
world. 'Twould be a pity to damage yours. |
| ----- |
| Westley: |
Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently
is selling something. |
| ----- |
| Inigo Montoya: |
My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father.
Prepare to die. |
 |
| ----- |
| Inigo Montoya: |
Are you the Miracle Max who worked for the
king all those years? |
| Miracle Max: |
The King's stinking son fired me, and thank
you so much for bringing up such a painful subject. While
you're at it, why don't you give me a nice paper cut, and
pour lemon juice on it? |
| ----- |
| Inigo Montoya: |
You seem a decent fellow, I hate to kill you. |
| Westley: |
You seem a decent fellow, I hate to die. |
| ----- |
| Westley: |
Give us the gate key. |
| Yellin: |
I have no gate key. |
| Inigo Montoya: |
Fezzik, tear his arms off. |
| Yellin: |
Oh, you mean this gate key. |
| ----- |
| Inigo Montoya: |
I want my father back you son-of-a-bitch. |
| ----- |
| Westley: |
My brains, his steal, and your strength, against
60 men. And, you think a little head jiggle is supposed to
make me happy? |
| ----- |
| Fezzik: |
Why do you wear a mask? Were you burned by
acid, or something like that? |
| Westley: |
Oh no. It's just they're terribly comfortable.
I think everyone will be wearing them in the future. |
| ----- |
| Inigo Montoya: |
We're in a terrible rush. |
| Miracle Max: |
Don't rush me, sonny. You rush a miracle man,
you get rotten miracles. |
| ----- |
| Prince Humperdinck: |
Surrender! |
| Westley: |
You mean you wish to surrender to me? Very
well, I accept. |
| ----- |
| Westley: |
If you're in such a hurry, you could lower
a rope, or a tree branch, or find something useful to do. |
| Inigo Montoya: |
I could do that. I have got some rope up here.
But, I do not think that you would accept my help, since I
am only waiting around to kill you. |
| Westley: |
That does put a damper on our relationship. |
| ----- |
| Vizzini: |
Am I going mad, or did the word "think" escape
your lips? You were not hired for your brains, you hippopotamic
land mass. |
| ----- |
| Vizzini: |
When I found you, you were so slobbering drunk
you couldn't buy brandy. And you: friendless, brainless, helpless,
hopeless. Do you want me to send you back to where you were,
unemployed . . . in Greenland? |
| ----- |
| The Grandfather: |
When I was your age, television was called,
"books." |
| ----- |
| Vizzini: |
Probably some local fisherman out for a pleasure
cruise, at night, through eel-infested waters. |
| ----- |
| Inigo Montoya: |
I do not mean to pry, but you don't, by any
chance, happen to have six fingers on your right hand? |
| Westley: |
Do you always begin conversations this way? |
| ----- |
| Buttercup: |
We'll never survive. |
| Westley: |
Nonsense, you're only saying that because no
one ever has. |
| ----- |
| Westley: |
It's not that bad . . . well, I'm not saying
I'd like to build a summer home here, but the trees are actually
quite lovely. |
| ----- |
| Westley: |
As you wish. |
| ----- |
| Westley: |
We are men of action, lies do not become us. |
| ----- |
| Vizzini: |
You fell victim to one of the classic blunders.
The most famous is: "Never get involved in a land war in Asia."
But, only slightly less well known is this: "Never go in against
a Sicilian, when death is on the line!" |
| ----- |
| Westley: |
Why loose your venom on me? |
| ----- |
| Valerie: |
Bye-bye boys! |
| Miracle Max: |
Have fun storming the castle! |
| Valerie: |
Think it'll work? |
| Miracle Max: |
It would take a miracle. |
| ----- |
| Vizzini: |
No more rhymes, now, I mean it! |
| Fezzik: |
Anybody want a peanut? |
| ----- |
| Westley: |
Truly, you have a dizzying intellect. |
| Vizzini: |
Wait 'til I get going! |
| ----- |
| Count Rugen: |
You've been chasing me your entire life, only
to fail now. I think that's the worst thing I've ever heard--how
marvelous. |
| ----- |
| Miracle Max: |
Are you a rotten liar. |
|
