"His ancestors had been knights, and they had come to own the Chalk by killing the kings who thought they did. Swords, that’s what it had all been about. Swords and cutting off heads. That was how you got land in the old days, and then the rules were changed so that you didn’t need a sword to own land anymore, you just needed the right piece of paper. But his ancestors had still hung on to their swords, just in case people thought that the whole thing with the bits of paper was unfair, it being a fact that you can’t please everybody."

"There be a lot o’ men who became heroes ’cuz they wuz too scared tae run!"

"“But that’s okay, right? ’Cuz ye have a Plan!” “I hope I’ve got it right, though,” said Roland. “My aunts say I’m too clever by half.” “Glad tae hear it,” said Rob Anybody, “’cuz that’s much better than bein’ too stupid by three quarters!”"

"And, as always happens, and happens far too soon, the strange and wonderful becomes a memory and a memory becomes a dream. Tomorrow it’s gone."

"Tiffany walked across the grass where the palace had been. There were a few pieces of ice left, but they would be gone in an hour. There were the clouds, but clouds drifted away. The normal world pressed in on her, with its dull little songs. She was walking on a stage after the play was over, and who now could say it had ever happened?"

"“The king is insuring against ‘what everyone knows’ being wrong. It so often is."

"There are times when “it does not get any better than this” does not spring to mind."

"There were meetings. There were always meetings. And they were dull, which is part of the reason they were meetings. Dull likes company."

"It would be hard to imagine an uglier building that hadn’t won a major architectural award."

"“It is a large treadmill that provides power for the coin stamping and so forth. Powered by prisoners once upon a time, when ‘community service’ wasn’t just a word. Or even two. It was considered cruel and unusual punishment, however, which does rather suggest a lack of imagination.”"

"“I read somewhere that the coins represent a promise to hand over a dollar’s worth of gold,’ said Moist helpfully. Mr. Bent steepled his hands in front of his face and turned his eyes upwards, as though praying. “In theory, yes,” he said after a few moments. “I would prefer to say that it is a tacit understanding that we will honor our promise to exchange it for a dollar’s worth of gold provided we are not, in point of fact, asked to.”"

"“I take a keen interest in the criminal mind,” said Moist, slightly faster than he’d intended. It was true. All you needed was a talent for introspection."

"“You mean that if you do overtime you have to do more overtime to pay for it?” said Moist, still pondering how illogical logical thinking can be if a big enough committee is doing it."

"No errors get past me, you may depend upon it. An error, sir, is worse than a sin, the reason being that a sin is often a matter of opinion or viewpoint or even of timing but an error is a fact and it cries out for correction."

"Damn. He’d forgotten the ancient wisdom: take care, when you are closely observing, that you are not closely observed."

"“But what does it actually do?” Too late, he saw the signs. Hubert grasped the lapels of his jacket, as if addressing a meeting, and swelled with the urge to communicate, or at least talk at length in the belief that it was the same thing."

"“They are not at home to disappointment, sir. They have tried to declare Mrs. Lavish insane, sir.” “Really,” said Moist. “Compared to who?”"

"Whoever said you can’t fool an honest man wasn’t one."

"To a man traveling on his wits, a newspaper was a useful treasure. Stuck down your shirt, it kept the wind off your chest. You could use it to light fires. For the fastidious, it saved a daily resort to dockweed, burdock, or other broad-leaved plants. And, as a last resort, you could read it."

"It wasn’t that he wasn’t good at delegating. He was extremely good at delegating. But the talent requires people on the other end of the chain to be good at being delegated onto. They weren’t."

"Gross men, for the most part, greedy, venal, and clumsy. Cunning can do duty for thought up to a point, and then you die."

"“But I’ve been dropped right in it!” “Not by me,” said Vetinari. I can assure you that if I had, as your ill-assumed street patois has it, ‘dropped you in it,’ you would fully understand all meanings of ‘drop’ and have an unenviable knowledge of ‘it.’”"

"“The world is full of things worth more than gold. But we dig the damn stuff up and then bury it in a different hole. Where’s the sense in that? What are we, magpies? Is it all about the gleam? Good heavens, potatoes are worth more than gold!” “Surely not!” “If you were shipwrecked on a desert island, what would you prefer, a bag of potatoes or a bag of gold?” “Yes, but a desert island isn’t Ankh-Morpork!” “And that proves gold is only valuable because we agree it is, right? It’s just a dream. But a potato is always worth a potato, anywhere. Add a knob of butter and a pinch of salt and you’ve got a meal, anywhere. Bury gold in the ground and you’ll be worrying about thieves forever. Bury a potato and in due season you could be looking at a dividend of a thousand percent.” “Can I assume for a moment that you don’t intend to put us on the potato standard?” said Sacharissa sharply. Moist smiled. “No, it won’t be that.”"

"It was a dream, but Moist was good at selling dreams. And if you could sell the dream to enough people, no one dared to wake up."

"You could say this about Pucci: she was easy to confide in, because she never bothered to listen. She used the time to think about what to say next."

"Whole new theories of money were growing here like mushrooms, in the dark and based on bullshit."

"His bleary eyes strayed back to the editorial. They, on the other hand, could be quite funny, since they were based on the assumption that the world would be a much better place if it was run by journalists."

"“Master, I protest! Banking is not a game!” “Dear Mr. Bent, it is a game. And it’s an old game, called ‘What can we get away with?’”"

"Pucci stood ignored and steaming with rage for a while and then flounced out. It was a good flounce, too. She had no idea how to handle people and she tried to make self-esteem do the work of self-respect, but the girl could flounce better than a fat turkey on a trampoline."

"I wonder... am I really a bastard or am I just really good at thinking like one?"

"“Why are you always in such a hurry, Mr. Lipwig?” “Because people don’t like change. But make the change happen fast enough and you go from one type of normal to another.”"

"Mr. Bent liked counting. You could trust numbers, except perhaps for pi, but he was working on that in his spare time and it was bound to give in sooner or later."

"Gods wanted belief, not rational thinking."

"Building a temple didn’t mean you believed in gods, it just meant you believed in architecture."

"“Um…oh yes, mystic stuff doesn’t hurt, people’ll believe in any damn thing if it sounds old and mysterious. Doth not a penny to the widow outshine the unconquered sun?” “What does that mean?” “I haven’t the foggiest idea,” said Moist, “I just made it up.”"

"“They said we could trust Mr. Lipwig’s word ’cos he’s as straight as a corkscrew.” “A corkscrew?” said Bent, shocked. “Yeah, we asked about that, too,” said Shady. “And they said he acts curly, but that’s okay ’cos he damn well gets the corks out!”"

"Mr Lipwig, there’s a lady in the hall to see you and we’ve thanked her for not smoking three times and she’s still doing it!"

"My name is Adora Belle Dearheart, so as you can imagine I’ve got a pretty short temper."

"Moist pointed to a sign which said If you are smoking, thank you for being beaten about the head."

"“That is a very graphic analogy which aids understanding wonderfully while being, strictly speaking, wrong in every possible way,” said Ponder."

"“Aha! The right type of question!” “I bet you don’t know the answer, though.” “You are correct. But you must admit it’s an interesting question not to know the answer to.”"

"“The box exists in ten or possibly eleven dimensions. Practically anything may be possible.” “Why only eleven dimensions?” “We don’t know,” said Ponder. “It might be simply that more would be silly.”"

"“There’s no need to get hysterical,” said Adora Belle. “Yes, there is! What there isn’t a need for is staying calm.”"

"Students, eh? Love ’em or hate ’em, you’re not allowed to hit ’em with a shovel."

"“The Umnians did make their own jewelry, though, which largely consisted of scenes of human sacrifice, badly executed in every sense of the word. They were incredibly inventive in that area. A theocracy, of course,” he added, with a shrug. “I don’t know what it is about stepped pyramids that brings out the worst in a god…”"

"“It’s funny you should say that, Reverend,” said the woman, her eyes bright with nervousness, “because I belong to a small group of ladies who run, well, a god-of-the-month club. Er…that is, we pick a god and believe in him…or her, obviously, or it, although we draw the line at the ones with teeth and too many legs, er, and foreign ones, of course, and then we pray to them for a month and then we sit down and discuss it. Well, there’s so many, aren’t there. Thousands! We’ve never really considered Om, though, but if you would care to give us a little talk next Tuesday I’m sure we’ll be happy to give him a jolly good try!”"

"Nevertheless, the human brain, which survives by hoping from one second to another, will always endeavor to put off the moment of truth."

"Plans can break down. You cannot plan the future. Only presumptuous fools plan. The wise man steers."