Discworld

"There are many rhymes about magpies, but none of them is very reliable because they are not the one the magpies know themselves. (p. 151)"

"She was not, herself, hugely in favor of motherhood in general. Obviously it was necessary, but it wasn’t exactly difficult. Even cats managed it. But women acted as if they’d been given a medal that entitled them to boss people around. It was as if, just because they’d got the label which said “mother,” everyone else got a tiny part of the label that said “child”... (pp. 153-154)"

"The result would have been called primitive even by people who were too primitive to have a word yet for “primitive.” (p. 161)"

"“I can go where I like,” said Granny. “Yes, but you ought—” Agnes began. She wished she could bite the word back, but it was too late. “Oh, ought, is it? Where does it say ought? I don’t remember it saying ought anywhere. Anyone going to tell me where it says ought? There’s lots of things that ought, I dare say. But they ain’t. (p. 173)"

"In the moment of silence Agnes fancied she could hear the stalactites grow. (p. 173)"

"“Granny was certainly not telling the truth,” said Agnes. “Of course she wasn’t, she never does,” said Magrat. “She expects you to work it out for yourself.” (p. 175)"

"“Why’d she do that?” “So we develop insights and pull together and learn valuable lessons,” said Magrat. Nanny paused with her pipe halfway to her lips. “No,” she said, “I don’t reckon Granny’d be thinking like that, because that’s soppy garbage.” (p. 187)"

"After four years of theological college he wasn’t at all certain of what he believed, and this was partly because the Church had schismed so often that occasionally the entire curriculum would alter in the space of one afternoon. But also— They had been warned about it. Don’t expect it, they’d said. It doesn’t happen to anyone except the prophets. Om doesn’t work like that. Om works from inside. —but he’d hoped that, just once, that Om would make himself known in some obvious and unequivocal way thatcouldn’t be mistaken for wind or a guilty conscience. Just once, he’d like the clouds to part for the space of ten seconds and a voice to cry out, “YES, MIGHTILY-PRAISEWORTHY-ARE-YE-WHO-EXALTETH-OM OATS! IT’S ALL COMPLETELY TRUE! INCIDENTALLY, THAT WAS A VERY THOUGHTFUL PAPER YOU WROTE ON THE CRISIS OF RELIGION IN A PLURALISTIC SOCIETY!” It wasn’t that he lacked faith. But faith wasn’t enough. He’d wanted knowledge. (pp. 202-203)"

"He’d found knowledge, and knowledge hadn’t helped. Had not Jotto caused the Leviathan of Terror to throw itself onto the land and the seas to turn red with blood? Had not Orda, strong in his faith, caused a sudden famine thoughout the land of Smale? They certainly had. He believed it utterly. But a part of him also couldn’t forget reading about the tiny little creatures that caused the rare red tides off the coast of Urt and the effect this apparently had on local sea life, and about the odd wind cycle that sometimes kept rainclouds away from Smale for years at a time. This had been...worrying. It was because he was so very good at old languages that he’d been allowed to study in the new libraries that were springing up around the Citadel, and this had been fresh ground for worry, because the seeker after truth had found truths instead. The Third Journey of the Prophet Cena, for example, seemed remarkably like a retranslation of the Testament of Sand in the Laotan Book of the Whole. On one shelf alone he found forty-three remarkably similar accounts of a great flood, and in every single one of them a man very much like Bishop Horn had saved the elect of mankind by building a magical boat. Details varied of course. Sometimes the boat was made of wood, sometimes of banana leaves. Sometimes the news of the emerging dry land was brought by a swan, sometimes by an iguana. Of course these stories in the chronicles of other religions were mere folktales and myth, while the voyage detailed in the Book of Cena was holy truth. But nevertheless... (pp. 203-204)"

"Provided they didn’t touch his birds, Hodgesaargh didn’t much mind who ran the castle. For hundreds of years the falconers had simply got on with the important things, like falconry, which needed a lot of training, and left the kinging to amateurs. (p. 224)"

"This was a test. Everything was a test. Everything was a competition. Life put them in front of you every day. You watched yourself all the time. You had to make choices. You never got told which ones were right. Oh, some of the priests said you got given marks afterward, but what was the point of that? (p. 241)"

"Granny tried to line up her thoughts. Which light and which dark? She hadn’t been prepared for this. This didn’t feel right. This wasn’t the fight she had expected. Whose light? Whose mind was this? Silly question. She was always her. Never lose your grip on that... So...light behind her, darkness in front... She’d always said witches stood between the light and the dark. ”Am I dyin’?”"

"Granny had listened to people who’d nearly died but had come back, possibly because of a deft thump in the right place or the dislodging of some wayward mouthful that’d gone down the wrong way. Sometimes they talked about seeing a light— That’s where she ought to go, a thought told her. But...was the light the way in, or the way out? (p. 242)"

"he said. “Is there any advice you could be givin’ me?” said Granny. (p. 243)"

"Prayer’s all very well. I can see where it can help you get your mind right. But an ax is an ax no matter what you believes. (p. 255)"

"“And us?” “Oh, we’re always all right. You remember that. We happen to other people. (p. 270)"

"Verence was technically an absolute ruler and would continue to be so provided he didn’t make the mistake of repeatedly asking Lancrastrians to do anything they didn’t want to do. (p. 271)"

"It’s most unfair. Once people find out you’re a vampire they act as if you’re some kind of monster. (p. 274)"

"“Mistress Weatherwax, you are a natural disputant.” “No I ain’t!” “You’d certainly enjoy yourself at the Synod, anyway. They’ve been known to argue for days about how many angels can dance on the head of a pin.” He could almost feel Granny’s mind working. At last she said, “What size pin?” “I don’t know that, I’m afraid.” “Well, if it’s an ordinary household pin, then there’ll be sixteen.” “Sixteen angels?” “That’s right.” “Why?” “I don’t know. Perhaps they like dancing.” The mule picked its way down a bank. The mist was getting thicker here. “You’ve counted sixteen?” said Oats eventually. “No, but it’s as good an answer as any you’ll get.” (p. 277)"

"“And that’s what your holy men discuss, is it?” “Not usually. There is a very interesting debate raging at the moment about the nature of sin, for example.” “And what do they think? Against it, are they?” “It’s not as simple as that. It’s not a black and white issue. There are so many shades of gray.” “Nope.” “Pardon?” “There’s no grays, only white that’s got grubby. I’m surprised you don’t know that. And sin, young man, is when you treat people as things. Including yourself. That’s what sin is.” “It’s a lot more complicated than that—” “No. It ain’t. When people say things are a lot more complicated than that, they means they’re getting worried that they won’t like the truth. People as things, that’s where it starts.” ”Oh, I’m sure there are worse crimes—” ”But they starts with thinking about people as things…” (pp. 277-278)"

"“You strong in your faith, then?” she said, as if she couldn’t leave things alone. Oats sighed. “I try to be.” “But you read a lot of books, I’m thinking. Hard to have faith, ain’t it, when you read too many books.” (p. 278)"

"“You’re not a believer yourself, then, Mistress Weatherwax?”... “Oh, I reckon I believes in tea, sunrises, that sort of thing,” said Granny. “I was referring to religion.” “I know a few gods in these parts, if that’s what you mean.” Oats sighed. “Many people find faith a great solace,” he said. He wished he was one of them. “Good.” “Really? Somehow I thought you’d argue.” “It’s not my place to tell ’em what to believe, if they act decent.” “But it’s not something you feel drawn to, perhaps, in the darker hours?” “No. I’ve already got a hot water bottle.” (pp. 278-279; ellipsis represents a minor elision of description)"

"Suddenly he was angry. “And that’s what you think religion is, is it?” he said, trying to keep his temper. “I gen’rally don’t think about it at all,” said the voice behind him. (p. 279)"

"Oats knelt in the mud and tried a prayer, but there was no answering voice from the sky. There never had been. He’d been told never to expect one. That wasn’t how Om worked anymore. Alone of all the gods, he’d been taught, Om delivered the answers straight into the depths of the head. Since the prophet Brutha, Om was the silent god. That’s what they said. If you didn’t have faith, then you weren’t anything. There was just the dark. He shuddered in the gloom. Was the god silent, or was there no one to speak? (p. 281)"

"“Your god, Mister Oats, tries everyone. That’s what gods generally do, and that’s why I don’t truck with ’em. And they lays down rules all the time.” “There have to be rules, Mistress Weatherwax.” “And what’s the first one that your Om requires, then?” “That believers should worship no other god but Om,” said Oats promptly. “Oh yes? That’s gods for you. Very self-centered, as a rule.” (p. 306)"

"People you can believe in, sometimes, but not gods. (p. 309)"

"“Now if I’d seen him, really there, really alive, it’d be in me like a fever. If I thought there was some god who really did care two hoots about people, who watched ‘em like a father and cared for ‘em like a mother...well, you wouldn’t catch me sayin’ things like ‘there are two sides to every question’ and ‘we must respect other people’s beliefs.’ You wouldn’t find me just being gen’rally nice in the hope that it’d all turn out right in the end, not if that flame was burning in me like an unforgivin’ sword. And I did say burnin’, Mister Oats, ‘cos that’s what it’d be. You say that you people don’t burn folk and sacrifice people anymore, but that’s what true faith would mean, y’see? Sacrificin’ your own life, one day at a time, to the flame, declarin’ the truth of it, workin’ for it, breathin’ the soul of it. That’s religion. Anything else is just...is just bein’ nice. And a way of keepin’ in touch with the neighbors.” (p. 310)"

"Perdita was horrified. It’ll give them nightmares! No, thought Agnes. It’ll take the nightmares away. Sometimes, everyone has to know the monster is dead, and remember, so that they can tell their grandchildren. (p. 320)"

"She clearly wasn’t a vampire. She didn’t even like the idea of rare steak. She’d tried to see if she could fly, when she thought people weren’t looking, but she was as attractive to gravity as ever. (p. 320)"

"Traditionally a keepsake is meant to be a lock of their hair, not their entire skull— (p. 322)"

"“I’ve never been one to put myself forward,” said the Countess, “but I strongly suggest you find a new plan, dear. One which works, perhaps?” (p. 324)"

"“Your magic amulet’s gone, too,” she said. “The one with the turtle and the little man on it.” “It’s not a magic amulet, Mistress Weatherwax! Please! A magic amulet is a symbol of primitive and mechanistic superstition, whereas the Turtle of Om is...is...is...well, it’s not, do you understand?” “Oh, right. Thank you for explaining,” said Granny. (p. 331)"

"“What’s the magic word?” he snarled. “Oh, I don’t think a holy man like you should be having with magic words,” said Granny. “But the holy words are: do what I tell you or get smitten. They should do the trick.” (p. 331)"

"Vampires are not naturally cooperative creatures. It’s not in their nature. Every other vampire is a rival for the next meal. In fact, the ideal situation for a vampire is a world in which every other vampire has been killed off and no one seriously believes in vampires anymore. They are by nature as cooperative as sharks. Vampyres are just the same, the only real difference being that they can’t spell properly. (pp. 336-337)"

"There’s no point in having underlings if you don’t let them be the first to go through suspicious doors. (p. 337)"

"“Be resolute, my dear,” said the Count. Remember—that which does not kill us can only make us stronger.” “And that which does kill us leaves us dead!” (p. 338)"

"People have to kill their own vampires. (p. 341)"

"“We are vampires. We cannot help what we are.” “Only animals can’t help what they are,” said Granny. (p. 356)"

"The old Count nodded gracefully. “Your servant, madam,” he said. “I doubt it,” said Granny. (p. 356)"

"Don’t trust the cannibal just ‘cos he’s usin’ a knife and fork. (p. 360)"

"“It’s a thing that is,” said Granny sharply. “Don’t go spilling allegory all down your shirt.” “Well, I feel...blessed to have seen it.” “Really? I gen’rally feel the same about the sunrise,” said Granny. “You would too, at my time of life.” (p. 364)"

"The crowd watched silently. If it were funny, clowns wouldn’t be doing it. (p. 8)"

"“Let me see if I’ve got this right,” said Vimes. “Überwald is like this big suet pudding that everybody’s suddenly noticed, and now with this coronation as an excuse we’ve all got to rush there with knife, fork and spoon to shovel as much on our plates as possible?” “Your grasp of political reality is masterful, Vimes. You lack only the appropriate vocabulary.” (p. 16)"

"The young woman stood on a corner of the Shades. Her general stance indicated that she was, in the specialized patois of the area, a lady in waiting. To be more precise, a lady in waiting for Mr. Right, or at least Mr. Right Amount. (pp. 19-20)"

"Vimes nodded, dourly. That made sense, too. You did something because it had always been done, and the explanation was “but we’ve always done it this way.” A million dead people can’t have been wrong, can they? (p. 25)"

"Sam Vimes could parallel process. Most husbands can. They learn to follow their own line of thought while at the same time listening to what their wives say. And the listening is important, because at any time they could be challenged and must be ready to quote the last sentence in full. A vital additional skill is being able to scan the dialogue for telltale phrases, such as “and they can deliver it tomorrow” or “so I’ve invited them for dinner” or “they can do it in blue, really quite cheaply.” (pp. 29-30)"

"He was aware that a wise man should always respect the folkways of others, to use Carrot’s happy phrase, but Vimes often had difficulty with this idea. For one thing, there were people in the world whose folkways consisted of gutting other people like clams and this was not a procedure that commanded, in Vimes, any kind of respect at all. (p. 42)"

"It was funny how people were people everywhere you went, even if the people concerned weren’t the people the people who made up the phrase “people are people everywhere” had traditionally thought of as people. (p. 42)"

"“Can you think of any reason why someone would kill him?” The troll scratched his head. “Well, ‘cos dey wanted him dead, I reckon. Dat’s a good reason.” (p. 67)"

"“Really,” said Gaspode. “Nothing good starts with ‘I need your help.’” (p. 75)"