Do you love me, Westley? Is that it?’ He couldn’t believe it. ‘Do I love you? My God, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches. If your love were—‘ ‘I don’t understand the first one yet,’ Buttercup interrupted. She was starting to get very excited now. ‘Let me get this straight. Are you saying my love is the size of a grain of sand and yours is this other thing? Images just confuse me so—is this universal business of yours bigger than my sand? Help me, Westley. I have the feeling we’re on the verge of something just terribly important.’ ‘I have stayed these years in my hovel because of you. I have taught myself languages because of you. I have made my body strong because I thought you might be pleased by a strong body. I have lived my life with only the prayer that some sudden dawn you might glance in my direction. I have not known a moment in years when the sight of you did not send my heart careening against my rib cage. I have not known a night when your visage did not accompany me to sleep. There has not been a morning when you did not flutter behind my waking eyelids….Is any of this getting through to you, Buttercup, or do you want me to go on for a while?’ ‘Never stop.’ ‘There has not been—‘ ‘If you’re teasing me, Westley, I’m just going to kill you.’ ‘How can you even dream I might be teasing?’ ‘Well, you haven’t once said you loved me.’ ‘That’s all you need? Easy. I love you. Okay? Want it louder? I love you. Spell it out, should I? I ell-oh-vee-ee why-oh-you. Want it backward? You love I.’ ‘You are teasing now; aren’t you?’ ‘A little maybe; I’ve been saying it so long to you, you just wouldn’t listen. Every time you said ‘Farm boy do this’ you thought I was answering ‘As you wish’ but that’s only because you were hearing wrong. ‘I love you’ was what it was, but you never heard and you never heard.
William Goldman
Blue jeans, white shirtWalked into the room you know you made my eyes burnIt was like, James Dean, for sureYou're so fresh to death and sick as ca-cancerYou were sorta punk rock, I grew up on hip hopBut you fit me better than my favourite sweater and I knowThat love is mean and love hurtsBut I still remember that day we met in december, oh baby!I will love you 'til the end of timeI would wait a million yearsPromise you'll remember that you're mineBaby can you see through the tearsLove you moreThan those bitches beforeSay you'll remember, oh baby, say you'll rememberI will love you 'til the end of timeBig dreams, gangsterSaid you had to leave to start your life overI was like, No please, stay here,We don't need no money we can make it all work,But he headed out on sunday, said he'd come home mondayI stayed up waitin', anticipatin' and pacin'But he was chasing paperCaught up in the game ‒ that was the last I heardI will love you 'til the end of timeI would wait a million yearsPromise you'll remember that you're mineBaby can you see through the tearsLove you moreThan those bitches beforeSay you'll remember, oh baby, say you'll rememberI will love you 'til the end of timeYou went out every nightAnd baby that's alrightI told you that no matter what you did I'd be by your sideCause Imma ride or dieWhether you fail or flyWell shit at least you tried.But when you walked out that door, a piece of me diedI told you I wanted more-but that's not what I had in mindI just want it like beforeWe were dancing all nightThen they took you away-stole you out of my lifeYou just need to remember....I will love you 'til the end of timeI would wait a million yearsPromise you'll remember that you're mineBaby can you see through the tearsLove you moreThan those bitches beforeSay you'll remember, oh baby, say you'll rememberI will love you 'til the end of time
Lana Del Rey
Girls say to me, very reasonably, 'why isn't it a bunch of girls? Why did you write this about a bunch of boys?' Well, my reply is I was once a little boy - I have been a brother, a father, I am going to be a grandfather. I have never been a sister, or a mother, or a grandmother. That's one answer. Another answer is of course to say that if you - as it were - scaled down human beings, scaled down society, if you land with a group of little boys, they are more ike a scaled-down version of society than a group of little girls would be. Don't ask me why and this is a terrible thing to say because I am going to be chased from hell to breakfast by all the women who talk about equality - this is nothing to do with equality at all. I think women are foolish to pretend they are equal to men, they are far superior and always have been. But one thing you can't do with them is take a bunch of them and boil them down, so to speak, into a set of little girls who would then become a kind of image of civilisation, of society. The other thing is - why aren't they little boys AND little girls? Well, if they'd been little boys and little girls, we being who we are, sex would have raised its lovely head and I didn't want this to be about sex. Sex is too trivial a thing to get in with a story like this, which was about the problem of evil and the problem of how people are to live together in a society, not just as lovers or man and wife.
William Golding