“You seem a decent fellow," Inigo said. "I hate to kill you."
You seem a decent fellow," answered the man in black. "I hate to die.”

“I assure you I will not kill you," said Inigo.
"I know that," said Vimes. "But will you try?”

“Kill if you must, but never hate:
Man is but grass and hate is blight,
The sun will scorch you soon or late,
Die wholesome then, since you must fight.”

“I said to myself, 'I want to die decently'.”

“I could give you my word as a Spaniard," Inigo said.
"No good," the man in black replied. "I've known too many Spaniards.”

“Love your fellow creature, though vicious. Hate vice in the friend you love the most.”

“My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die!”

“A black pall, you know, with a silver cross on it, or R. I. P. — requiescat in pace — you know. That seems to me the most beautiful expression — I like it much better than ‘He is a jolly good fellow,’ which is simply rowdy.”

“I hate everything you say, but not enough to kill you for it.”

“Whoever appeals to the law against his fellow man is either a fool or a coward. Whoever can not take care of themself without that law is both. For a wounded man shall say to his assailant, "If I live, I will kill you. If I die, you are forgiven."”