Like pillion passengers since the dawn of time, he persisted in leaning the wrong way. (ER)
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‘… children throw us all away sooner or later.’ (ER)
What really terrified him about the sea was that the only thing between him and the horrible things that lived at the bottom of it was water. (ER)
He felt that the last couple of hours had somehow carried him along without him actually touching the sides, and for a moment he nursed the strangely consoling feeling that his life was totally beyond his control and whatever happened no one could blame him. (ER)
It was the sort of smile that wolves ran away from. (ER)
… writing labels was always the hard part of magic, as far as she was concerned. (ER)
… it is very hard to look dignified with a napkin tucked into one’s collar. (ER)
‘I can see you’ve been getting ideas below your station …’ (ER)
‘And you say it actually managed to get airborne?’
‘It flew like a bird,’ said Granny. The dwarf lit a pipe. ‘I should very much like to see that bird,’ he said reflectively. ‘I should imagine it’s quite something to watch a bird like that.’ (ER) … no one can outstare a witch, ‘cept a goat, of course. (ER)
She had got ‘diuerse’ out of the Almanack, which she read every night. It was always predicting ‘diuerse plagues’ and ‘diurse ill-fortune’. Granny wasn’t entirely sure what it meant but it was a damn good word all the same. (ER)
‘…there’s no male witches, only silly men’ (ER)
‘If a thing’s worth doing, it’s worth doing badly,’ said Granny, fleeing into aphorisms, the last refuge of an adult under siege. (ER)
… on a night like this bravery lasted only as long as a candle stayed alight. (ER)
‘I’m a firm believer in reincarnation. What would you like to come back as?’
‘I don’t want to go,’ said Rincewind firmly. (LF) Owing largely to inefficiency Rincewind had consistently failed to die at the right time, and if there’s one thing that Death does not like it is unpunctuality. (LF)
Unseen University had never admitted women, muttering something about problems with the plumbing, but the real reason was an unspoken dread that if women were allowed to mess around with magic they would probably be embarrassingly good at it … (LF)
The Luggage’s expression could only be described as wooden. (LF)
That’s old Twoflower. Rincewind thought. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate beauty, he just appreciates it in his own way. I mean, if a poet sees a daffodil he stares at it and writes a long poem about it, but Twoflower wanders off to find a book on botany. And treads on it. It’s right what Cohen says. He just looks at things, but nothing he looks at is ever the same again. Including me, I suspect. (LF)
‘… all this travelling and seeing things is fine but there’s also a lot of fun to be had in having been. You know, sticking all your pictures in a book and remembering things.’ (LF)
… there was no real point in trying to understand anything Twoflower said, and that all anyone could do was run alongside the conversation and hope to jump on as it turned a corner. (LF)
Twoflower didn’t just look at the world through rose-tinted spectacles, Rincewind knew – he looked at it through a rose-tinted brain, too and heard it through rose-tinted ears. (LF)
‘You’ve got to face it, all this stuff about golden boughs and the cycles of nature and stuff just boils down to sex and violence, usually at the same time.’ (LF)
‘Well, it just reeks ambience.’
‘Oh.’ ‘What’s ambience?’ said Swires, sniffing cautiously and wearing the kind of expression that said that he hadn’t done it, whatever it was. ‘I think it’s a kind of frog,’ said Rincewind. (LF) |
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The world has lost Sir Terry, and it's so much the poorer for that. Vale Sir Terry. Categories
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