Librarian quotes
A magical accident in the Library, which as has already been indicated is not a place for your average rubber-stamp-and-Dewey-decimal employment, had some time ago turned the Librarian into an orang-utan. He had since resisted all efforts to turn him back. He liked the handy long arms, the prehensile toes and the right to scratch himself in public, but most of all he liked the way all the big questions of existence had suddenly resolved themselves into a vague interest in where his next banana was coming from. It wasn’t that he was unaware of the despair and nobility of the human condition. It was just that as far as he was concerned you could stuff it. (S)
The Librarian spun around on his bottom a few times, a sure sign of deep thought. (S)
The Librarian knuckled out into the Library of the here and now. Every hair on his body bristled with rage.
He pushed open the door and swung out into the stricken city.
Someone out there was about to find that their worst nightmare was a maddened Librarian.
With a badge. (GG)
... laws governing the animal kingdom did not apply to the Librarian. On the other hand, the Librarian himself was never very interested in obeying the laws governing the human kingdom, either. He was one of those little anomalies you have to build around. (GG)
The Librarian rolled his eyes. It was strange, he felt, that so-called intelligent dogs, horses and dolphins never had any difficulty indicating to humans the vital news of the moment e.g., that the three children were lost in the cave, or the train was about to take the line leading to the bridge that had been washed away or similar, while he, only a handful of chromosomes away from wearing a vest, found it difficult to persuade the average human to come out in the rain. (GG)
,,, [the librarian] had been allowed to keep his job, which he was rather good at, although ‘allowed’ is not really the right word. It was the way he could roll his upper lip back to reveal more incredibly yellow teeth than any other mouth the University Council had ever seen before that somehow made sure the matter was never really raised. (GG)
'A book has been taken. A book has been taken? You summoned the Watch,’ Carrot drew himself up proudly, ‘because someone’s taken a book? You think that’s worse than murder?’
The Librarian gave him the kind of look other people would reserve for people who said things like ‘What’s so bad about genocide?' (GG)
There was always this trouble with the Librarian. Everyone had got so accustomed to him it was hard to remember a time when the Library was not run by a yellow-fanged ape with the strength of three men. (MP)
‘You? We can’t take you,’ said the Dean, glaring at the Librarian. ‘You don’t know a thing about guerrilla warfare.’
‘Oook!’ said the Librarian, and made a surprisingly comprehensive gesture to indicate that, on the other hand, what he didn’t know about orangutan warfare could be written on the very small pounded-up remains of, for example, the Dean. (RM)
The Librarian was always up early because he was an orang-utan, and they are naturally early risers, although in his case he didn’t bellow a few times to keep other males off his territory. He just unlocked the Library and fed the books. (LL)
The Librarian, an ape of simple but firmly-held tastes, considered an episode with custard pies, buckets of whitewash and especially that bit when someone takes someone else's hat off, fills it with something oozy, and replaces it on the deadpan head, while the orchestra plays 'WHAH ... whah ... whah ... whaaa ...' to be an absolutely essential part of any theatrical performance. (LL)
'But look,’ said Ponder, ‘the graveyards are full of people who rushed in bravely but unwisely.’
‘Ook.’
‘What’d he say?’ said the Bursar, passing briefly through reality on his way somewhere else.
‘I think he said, “Sooner or later the graveyards are full of everybody”,’ said Ponder. (LL)
Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, especially simian ones. They're not all that subtle. (LL)
The Librarian of Unseen University had unilaterally decided to aid comprehension by producing an Orang-utan/Human Dictionary. He’d been working on it for three months. It wasn’t easy. He’d got as far as ‘Oook’. (MA)
The Librarian was, of course, very much in favour of reading in general, but readers in particular got on his nerves. There was something, well, sacrilegious about the way they kept taking books off the shelves and wearing out the words by reading them. (MA)
'Am I alone in thinking, by the way, that it doesn’t add to the status of the University to have an ape on the faculty?’
‘Yes,’ said Ridcully flatly. ‘You are. We’ve got the only librarian who can rip off your arm with his leg. People respect that.' (IT)
The human mind was a deep and abiding mystery and the Librarian was glad he didn’t have one any more. (Ma)
The Librarian shyly held out a small, battered green book. Vimes had been expecting something bigger, but he took it anyway. It paid to look at any book the orang-utan gave you. He matched you up to books. Vimes supposed it was a knack, in the same way that an undertaker was very good at judging heights. (J)
... the problem with bandaging an orangutan's head is knowing when to stop. (LH)
The Librarian thought that practically everything could be improved by the addition of soft fruit, but apart from that he was a kindly soul, always ready with a helping hand and a banana. (SD)
The Librarian was informally banned from the High Energy Magic building, owing to his inherent tendency to check on what things were by tasting them. This worked very well in the Library, where taste had become a precision reference system, but was less useful in a room occasionally contains bus bars throbbing with several thousand thaums. The ban was informal, of course, because anyone capable of pulling the doorknob right through an oak door can obviously go where he likes. (SD)
You didn't get anywhere at Unseen University without being able to understand the vast number of meanings that can be carried by the word ook. (UA)
A magical accident had once turned the University’s Librarian into an orangutan, a state which he enjoyed sufficiently to threaten, with simple and graphic gestures, anyone who suggested turning him back. The wizards noticed no difference now. An orangutan seemed such a natural shape for a librarian. (SODW)
The Librarian spun around on his bottom a few times, a sure sign of deep thought. (S)
The Librarian knuckled out into the Library of the here and now. Every hair on his body bristled with rage.
He pushed open the door and swung out into the stricken city.
Someone out there was about to find that their worst nightmare was a maddened Librarian.
With a badge. (GG)
... laws governing the animal kingdom did not apply to the Librarian. On the other hand, the Librarian himself was never very interested in obeying the laws governing the human kingdom, either. He was one of those little anomalies you have to build around. (GG)
The Librarian rolled his eyes. It was strange, he felt, that so-called intelligent dogs, horses and dolphins never had any difficulty indicating to humans the vital news of the moment e.g., that the three children were lost in the cave, or the train was about to take the line leading to the bridge that had been washed away or similar, while he, only a handful of chromosomes away from wearing a vest, found it difficult to persuade the average human to come out in the rain. (GG)
,,, [the librarian] had been allowed to keep his job, which he was rather good at, although ‘allowed’ is not really the right word. It was the way he could roll his upper lip back to reveal more incredibly yellow teeth than any other mouth the University Council had ever seen before that somehow made sure the matter was never really raised. (GG)
'A book has been taken. A book has been taken? You summoned the Watch,’ Carrot drew himself up proudly, ‘because someone’s taken a book? You think that’s worse than murder?’
The Librarian gave him the kind of look other people would reserve for people who said things like ‘What’s so bad about genocide?' (GG)
There was always this trouble with the Librarian. Everyone had got so accustomed to him it was hard to remember a time when the Library was not run by a yellow-fanged ape with the strength of three men. (MP)
‘You? We can’t take you,’ said the Dean, glaring at the Librarian. ‘You don’t know a thing about guerrilla warfare.’
‘Oook!’ said the Librarian, and made a surprisingly comprehensive gesture to indicate that, on the other hand, what he didn’t know about orangutan warfare could be written on the very small pounded-up remains of, for example, the Dean. (RM)
The Librarian was always up early because he was an orang-utan, and they are naturally early risers, although in his case he didn’t bellow a few times to keep other males off his territory. He just unlocked the Library and fed the books. (LL)
The Librarian, an ape of simple but firmly-held tastes, considered an episode with custard pies, buckets of whitewash and especially that bit when someone takes someone else's hat off, fills it with something oozy, and replaces it on the deadpan head, while the orchestra plays 'WHAH ... whah ... whah ... whaaa ...' to be an absolutely essential part of any theatrical performance. (LL)
'But look,’ said Ponder, ‘the graveyards are full of people who rushed in bravely but unwisely.’
‘Ook.’
‘What’d he say?’ said the Bursar, passing briefly through reality on his way somewhere else.
‘I think he said, “Sooner or later the graveyards are full of everybody”,’ said Ponder. (LL)
Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, especially simian ones. They're not all that subtle. (LL)
The Librarian of Unseen University had unilaterally decided to aid comprehension by producing an Orang-utan/Human Dictionary. He’d been working on it for three months. It wasn’t easy. He’d got as far as ‘Oook’. (MA)
The Librarian was, of course, very much in favour of reading in general, but readers in particular got on his nerves. There was something, well, sacrilegious about the way they kept taking books off the shelves and wearing out the words by reading them. (MA)
'Am I alone in thinking, by the way, that it doesn’t add to the status of the University to have an ape on the faculty?’
‘Yes,’ said Ridcully flatly. ‘You are. We’ve got the only librarian who can rip off your arm with his leg. People respect that.' (IT)
The human mind was a deep and abiding mystery and the Librarian was glad he didn’t have one any more. (Ma)
The Librarian shyly held out a small, battered green book. Vimes had been expecting something bigger, but he took it anyway. It paid to look at any book the orang-utan gave you. He matched you up to books. Vimes supposed it was a knack, in the same way that an undertaker was very good at judging heights. (J)
... the problem with bandaging an orangutan's head is knowing when to stop. (LH)
The Librarian thought that practically everything could be improved by the addition of soft fruit, but apart from that he was a kindly soul, always ready with a helping hand and a banana. (SD)
The Librarian was informally banned from the High Energy Magic building, owing to his inherent tendency to check on what things were by tasting them. This worked very well in the Library, where taste had become a precision reference system, but was less useful in a room occasionally contains bus bars throbbing with several thousand thaums. The ban was informal, of course, because anyone capable of pulling the doorknob right through an oak door can obviously go where he likes. (SD)
You didn't get anywhere at Unseen University without being able to understand the vast number of meanings that can be carried by the word ook. (UA)
A magical accident had once turned the University’s Librarian into an orangutan, a state which he enjoyed sufficiently to threaten, with simple and graphic gestures, anyone who suggested turning him back. The wizards noticed no difference now. An orangutan seemed such a natural shape for a librarian. (SODW)
