There had never, not in a thousand years been arms to match Fezzik’s. (For that was his name.) The arms were not only gargantuan and totally obedient and surprising quick, but they were also, and this is why he never worried, tireless. If you gave him an ax and told him to chop down a forest, his legs might give up from having to support so much weight for so long, or the axe might shatter from the punishment of killing so many trees, but Fezzik’s arms would be as fresh tomorrow as today.

Chapter 4.