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"The thousand injuries of Fortunate I had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult I vowed revenge(Poe 61) "I continued, as was my won't, simlw to smile, and he did not percive that my smile now was at the thought if his immolation"(Poe 62)
""Lutes cannot tell Amontillado from sherry". "And yet some fools will have it that this taste is a match for your own"."Come let's go." "Whither?" "To your vault"(Poe 62).
"No answer still. I thrust a torch through the remaining aperture and let it fall within. there came forth in return only a jingling of the bell. My heart grew sick ; it was the dampness of the catacombs that made it so, I hastened to make an end of my labor. I forced the last stone into it's last position; I plastered it up" (Poe 67)
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