'... we didn't know the shadows were there until we had the light.' (AM)
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Over Holy Wood the stars were out. They were huge balls of hydrogen heated to millions of degrees, so hot they could not even burn. Many of them would swell enormously before they died, and then shrink to tiny, resentful dwarfs remembered only by sentimental astronomers. In the meantime, they glowed because of metamorphoses beyond the reach of alchemists, and turned mere boring elements into pure light. (MP)
… on a night like this bravery lasted only as long as a candle stayed alight. (ER)
The more you faced the light the brighter is grew, and one day for the brief respite that it brought you’d look over your shoulder. And you’d see how lovely and rich and dark and beguiling your shadow had become … (BOS)
... she thought there should be a word meaning ‘a word that sounds like the noise a thing would make if that thing made a noise even though, actually, it doesn’t, but would if it ‘did’.
Glint, for example. If light made a noise as it reflected off a distant window, it’d go ‘glint!’ And the light of tinsel, all those little glints chiming together, would make a noise like ‘glitterglitter’. ‘Gleam’ was a clean, smooth noise from a surface that intended to shine all day. And ‘glisten’ was the soft, almost greasy sound of something rich and oily. (WFM) 'To see the light is to be blinded. Do you not know that in darkness the eyes open wider?' (Th)
Only crimes could take place in darkness. Punishment had to be done in the light. That was the job of a good
watchman, Carrot always said. To light a candle in the dark. (FC) ‘ – dawn is a place as well as a time,’ said Einstein, spreading his hands.
‘What on earth do you mean?’ said Mrs Liberty. ‘On Earth, and around the earth,’ said Einstein, getting excited. ‘One night and one day, forever chasing one another.’ ‘There is a night that never comes to an end,’ said Mr Fletcher. ‘All you need is speed…’ ‘Relatively speaking,’ said Einstein. (JD) Light has a smell.
In the dank, damp cellars the sharp sulphur stink of the match flew like a yellow bird, rising on drafts, plunging through cracks. It was a clean and bitter smell and it cut through the dull underground reek like a knife. (AM) Light travels slowly on the Disc and is slightly heavy, with a tendency to pile up against high mountain ranges. Research wizards have speculated that there is another, much speedier type of light which allows the slower light to
be seen, but since this moves too fast to see they have been unable to find a use for it. (LC) Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it. (RM)
It was a cold night, the type of night when frost and fog fight for domination and every sound is muffled. (M)
When light encounters a strong magical field it loses all sense of urgency. It slows right down. And on the
Discworld the magic was embarrassingly strong, which meant that the soft yellow light of dawn flowed over the sleeping landscape like the caress of a gentle lover or, as some would have it, like golden syrup. (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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