The Science of Discworld by Terry Pratchett, Ian Stewart and Jack Cohen
Some questions should not be asked. However, someone always does.
‘How does it work?’ said Archchancellor Mustrum Ridcully, the Master of Unseen University.
This was the kind of question that Ponder Stibbons hated almost as much as ‘How much will it cost?’ They were two of the hardest questions a researcher ever had to face. (SD)
This was turning out to be the longest winter in living memory – so long, in fact, that living memory itself was being shortened as some of the older citizens succumbed. (SD)
Wizards can put up with any amount of deprivation and discomfort, provided it is not happening to them. (SD)
The Faculty was lukewarm on the subject of knowledge for knowledge’s sake, but they were boiling hot on the subject of warm bedrooms. (SD)
Talking to the senior wizards was like building a house of cards; if you got anything to stay upright, you just breathed out gently and moved on. (SD)
Ponder had invented a little system he’d called, in the privacy of his head, Lies-to-Wizards. It was for their own good, he told himself. There was no point in telling your bosses everything; they were busy men, they didn’t want explanations. There was no point in burdening them. What they wanted was little stories that they felt they could understand, and then they’d go away and stop worrying. (SD)
‘Perhaps you would care to say a few words, sir?’ said Ponder.
‘Yes.’ Ridcully looked thoughtful for a moment, and then brightened up. ‘Let’s get this over quickly, and have lunch.’ (SD)
The Bursar was not, as many thought, insane. On the contrary, he was a man with both feet firmly on the ground, the only difficulty being that the ground in question was on some other planet, the one with the fluffy pink clouds and the happy little bunnies. He did not mind because he much preferred it to the real one, where people shouted too much, and he spent as little time there as possible. (SD)
‘Absolute nothing is very unstable. It’s so desperate to be something.’ (SD)
They were, after all, wizards. That meant that if they saw something, they prodded it. If it wobbled they prodded it some more. If you built a guillotine, and then put a sign on it saying ‘Do Not Put Your Neck On This Block’, many wizards would never have to buy a hat again. (SD)
As a general rule, he avoided getting to know the students, since he felt they were a tedious interruption to the proper running of college life. (SD)
Everyone knew that stars were points of light. If they weren’t, some would be visibly bigger than others. Some were fainter than others, of course, but that was probably due to clouds. In any case their purpose, according to established Discworld law, was to lend a little style to the night. (SD)
The god currently gaining popularity was Om, who never answered prayers or manifested himself. It was easy to respect an invisible god. It was the ones that turned up everywhere, often drunk, that put people off. (SD)
... Progress was what you made of it. (SD)
‘He always thinks everything has to mean something,’ said Ridcully, who generally took the view that trying to find any deep meaning to events was like trying to find reflections in a mirror: you always succeeded, but you didn’t learn anything new. (SD)
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)
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. (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)
A university is very much like a coral reef. It provides calm waters and food particles for delicate yet marvellously constructed organisms that could not possible survive in the pounding surf of reality, where people ask questions like ‘Is what you do of any use?’ and other nonsense. (SD)
…it had always seemed to Rincewind that if you had to go a long way away it’d be nice to stay at home while you did it… (SD)
‘I like that explanation,’ said Ridcully. ‘It is elegant, Mister Stibbons.’
‘It’s only a guess, sir.’
‘Good enough for physics,’ said Ridcully. (SD)
'Well, sir, as you know,*'
* A phrase meaning 'I'm not sure you know this.' (SD)
'We don't need a machine for being confused. We're entirely capable of confusin' ourselves. It is a human achievement, confusion ....' (SD)
'You have nothing to fear but fear itself.'
'Oh, is that so? What help is that? You think that makes it better? Well, let me tell you, some of that fear can be pretty big and nasty -' (SD)
‘…is Man an ape, or is he an angel?’
The Librarian knew this one.
‘Ook,’ he said, which meant: ape is best, because you don’t have to fly and you’re allowed sex… (SD)
‘…what the hell is this picture all about?’
It showed on the left, a rather hunched-up, ape-like figure. As it crossed the page, it gradually arose and grew considerably less hairy until it was striding confidentially towards the edge of the page, perhaps pleased that it had essayed this perilous journey without at any time showing its genitals.
‘Looks like me when I’m getting up in the mornings,’ said the Dean, who was reading over his shoulder. (SD)
Wizards seldom bothered to look things up if they could reach an answer by bickering at cross-purposes. (SD)
‘Ah, I’ve got an idea!’ said the Dean, beaming. ‘We can get Hex to reverse the thaumic flow in the cthonic matrix of the optimized bi-direction octagonate, can’t we?’
‘Well, that’s the opinion of four glasses of sherry,’ said the Archchancellor briskly, to break the ensuing silence. ‘However, if I may express a preference, something that isn’t complete gibberish would be more welcome next time, please.’ (SD)
…HEX knew that its creators were infinitely cleverer than it was. And great masters of disguise, obviously. (SD)
…if there was any truth at all in Ponder’s tentative theory that things did change into other things, it led to the depressing thought that, well, the world was filling up with quitters, creatures which – instead of staying where they were, and really making a go of life in the ocean or the swamp or wherever – were running away to lurk in some niche and grow legs. (SD)
‘ Not dying out is some kind of achievement, is it?’ said the Lecturer of Recent Runes.
‘Best kind there is, sir.’ (SD)
‘“Live and let live”, you know that’s always been my motto. Well, “let me live”, really, but that’s almost the same thing.’ (SD)
‘How does it work?’ said Archchancellor Mustrum Ridcully, the Master of Unseen University.
This was the kind of question that Ponder Stibbons hated almost as much as ‘How much will it cost?’ They were two of the hardest questions a researcher ever had to face. (SD)
This was turning out to be the longest winter in living memory – so long, in fact, that living memory itself was being shortened as some of the older citizens succumbed. (SD)
Wizards can put up with any amount of deprivation and discomfort, provided it is not happening to them. (SD)
The Faculty was lukewarm on the subject of knowledge for knowledge’s sake, but they were boiling hot on the subject of warm bedrooms. (SD)
Talking to the senior wizards was like building a house of cards; if you got anything to stay upright, you just breathed out gently and moved on. (SD)
Ponder had invented a little system he’d called, in the privacy of his head, Lies-to-Wizards. It was for their own good, he told himself. There was no point in telling your bosses everything; they were busy men, they didn’t want explanations. There was no point in burdening them. What they wanted was little stories that they felt they could understand, and then they’d go away and stop worrying. (SD)
‘Perhaps you would care to say a few words, sir?’ said Ponder.
‘Yes.’ Ridcully looked thoughtful for a moment, and then brightened up. ‘Let’s get this over quickly, and have lunch.’ (SD)
The Bursar was not, as many thought, insane. On the contrary, he was a man with both feet firmly on the ground, the only difficulty being that the ground in question was on some other planet, the one with the fluffy pink clouds and the happy little bunnies. He did not mind because he much preferred it to the real one, where people shouted too much, and he spent as little time there as possible. (SD)
‘Absolute nothing is very unstable. It’s so desperate to be something.’ (SD)
They were, after all, wizards. That meant that if they saw something, they prodded it. If it wobbled they prodded it some more. If you built a guillotine, and then put a sign on it saying ‘Do Not Put Your Neck On This Block’, many wizards would never have to buy a hat again. (SD)
As a general rule, he avoided getting to know the students, since he felt they were a tedious interruption to the proper running of college life. (SD)
Everyone knew that stars were points of light. If they weren’t, some would be visibly bigger than others. Some were fainter than others, of course, but that was probably due to clouds. In any case their purpose, according to established Discworld law, was to lend a little style to the night. (SD)
The god currently gaining popularity was Om, who never answered prayers or manifested himself. It was easy to respect an invisible god. It was the ones that turned up everywhere, often drunk, that put people off. (SD)
... Progress was what you made of it. (SD)
‘He always thinks everything has to mean something,’ said Ridcully, who generally took the view that trying to find any deep meaning to events was like trying to find reflections in a mirror: you always succeeded, but you didn’t learn anything new. (SD)
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)
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. (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)
A university is very much like a coral reef. It provides calm waters and food particles for delicate yet marvellously constructed organisms that could not possible survive in the pounding surf of reality, where people ask questions like ‘Is what you do of any use?’ and other nonsense. (SD)
…it had always seemed to Rincewind that if you had to go a long way away it’d be nice to stay at home while you did it… (SD)
‘I like that explanation,’ said Ridcully. ‘It is elegant, Mister Stibbons.’
‘It’s only a guess, sir.’
‘Good enough for physics,’ said Ridcully. (SD)
'Well, sir, as you know,*'
* A phrase meaning 'I'm not sure you know this.' (SD)
'We don't need a machine for being confused. We're entirely capable of confusin' ourselves. It is a human achievement, confusion ....' (SD)
'You have nothing to fear but fear itself.'
'Oh, is that so? What help is that? You think that makes it better? Well, let me tell you, some of that fear can be pretty big and nasty -' (SD)
‘…is Man an ape, or is he an angel?’
The Librarian knew this one.
‘Ook,’ he said, which meant: ape is best, because you don’t have to fly and you’re allowed sex… (SD)
‘…what the hell is this picture all about?’
It showed on the left, a rather hunched-up, ape-like figure. As it crossed the page, it gradually arose and grew considerably less hairy until it was striding confidentially towards the edge of the page, perhaps pleased that it had essayed this perilous journey without at any time showing its genitals.
‘Looks like me when I’m getting up in the mornings,’ said the Dean, who was reading over his shoulder. (SD)
Wizards seldom bothered to look things up if they could reach an answer by bickering at cross-purposes. (SD)
‘Ah, I’ve got an idea!’ said the Dean, beaming. ‘We can get Hex to reverse the thaumic flow in the cthonic matrix of the optimized bi-direction octagonate, can’t we?’
‘Well, that’s the opinion of four glasses of sherry,’ said the Archchancellor briskly, to break the ensuing silence. ‘However, if I may express a preference, something that isn’t complete gibberish would be more welcome next time, please.’ (SD)
…HEX knew that its creators were infinitely cleverer than it was. And great masters of disguise, obviously. (SD)
…if there was any truth at all in Ponder’s tentative theory that things did change into other things, it led to the depressing thought that, well, the world was filling up with quitters, creatures which – instead of staying where they were, and really making a go of life in the ocean or the swamp or wherever – were running away to lurk in some niche and grow legs. (SD)
‘ Not dying out is some kind of achievement, is it?’ said the Lecturer of Recent Runes.
‘Best kind there is, sir.’ (SD)
‘“Live and let live”, you know that’s always been my motto. Well, “let me live”, really, but that’s almost the same thing.’ (SD)
