“Pardon me, Highness, a women waits whithout." "Whithout what?”

“Hope is a critical thing. Whithout it, we are nothing. Hope shapes will. The will shapes the world.”

“So, how bad of an idea is it to go there? On a scale of cooking-whithout-a-shirt to being-an-evil-priest-in-an-Alexandre-Dumas-book?”

“Heat invaded her cheeks. She wasn't used to men seeing her whithout her clothes on. And here was in her boring white cotton bra and panties. damn, if only she'd worn her black lace undies. She winced inwardly. She'd come close to getting mauled by a jaguar, and all she could think about was the sexiness factor of her underwear? She must be in shock.”

“Gwen: It's not going to work.Paul: Pardon me?Gwen: Cinderella's not going to sleep with you because you're taking the ugly stepsister to the ball. She'll still make you wait.”

“What did one say to a stalker? Um, pardon me, Mr.Stalker, but could you, like, not?”