Quotes from Terry Pratchett

Mrs. Earwig said the village women know what to do," said Annagramma hopefully. "She says to trust in their peasant wisdom." "Well, Mrs. Obble was the old woman who called, and she has just got simple peasant ignorance," said Tiffany. "She puts leaf mold on wounds if you don't watch her. Look, just because a woman's got no teeth doesn't mean she's wise. It might just mean she's been stupid for a very long time.

the bestselling novel taking the Ankh-Morpork literary world by storm was dedicated to Commander Samuel Vimes. The title of the book was Pride and Extreme Prejudice.

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. He just looks at things, but nothing he looks at is ever the same again. Including me, I suspect.

She did nothing, although sometimes when she saw him in the village she'd smile in a faint, puzzled way. After three weeks of this the suspense was too much for him and he took his own life; in fact he took it all the way across the continent, where he became a reformed character and never went home again.

The thing about witchcraft," said Mistress Weatherwax, "is that it's not like school at all. First you get the test, and then afterward you spend years findin' out how you passed it. It's a bit like life in that respect.

This one's mental.' 'Eccentric.' 'What's the difference?' 'A bag of cash.

But if you must know, your moon here is rather more powerful than the ones around my own world." "The moon?" said Twoflower. "I don't under-" "If I've got to spell it out," said the troll, testily, "I'm suffering from chronic tides.

if you ignore the rules people will, half the time, quietly rewrite them so that they don't apply to you.

I believe he collects different types of stationery,' said Vetinari. 'I have sometimes speculated that he might change his life for the better should he meet a young lady willing to dress up as a manila envelope.

Death's face became a little stiffer, if that were possible. The blue glow in his eye sockets flickered red for an instant. I SEE, he said. The tone suggested that death was too good for cat-haters. YOU LIKE GREAT BIG DOGS, I IMAGINE.

We put all our politicians in prison as soon as they're elected. Don't you?' 'Why?' 'It saves time.

Scuse me, 'scuse me," said a voice from beside him. He looked down this time at a dirty, half-scorched cat, who grinned at him. "Did that cat just speak?" asked the mayor. Maurice looked around. "Which one?" he said. "You! Did you just talk?" "Would you feel better if I said no?" said Maurice.

WHAT IS THAT SENSE INSIDE YOUR HEAD OF WISTFUL REGRET THAT THINGS ARE THE WAY THEY APPARENTLY ARE? "Sadness, master. I think. Now—" I AM SADNESS.

But smart has to have a depth as well as a length. Some smart brushes over a problem. And some smart grinds exceeding slow, like the mills of God, and it grinds fine, and when it comes up with an answer, it has been tested.

Moist made a mental note: envelopes with a stamp already on, and a sheet of folded paper inside them: Instant Letter Kit, Just Add Ink! That was an important rule of any game: always make it easy for people to give you money.

People couldn't become truly holy, he said, unless they also had the opportunity to be definitively wicked.

There is no higher life form than a librarian.

So the fire and its subsequent flood, wich destroyed everything left that was not flammable and added a particularly noisome flux to the survivors'problems, did not mark its end. Rather it was a fiery punctuation mark, a coal-like comma, or salamander semicolon, in a continuing story.

Nanny Ogg scowled and said, Granny never said as she was better than others. She just got on with it and showed 'em and people worked it out for themselves.

The period of time it takes a pictsie to go from normal to mad fighting mood is so tiny it can't be measured on the smallest clock.

Repent!'" Nanny Ogg went on. "Repent? Me? Cheek! I can't start repenting at my time of life. I'd never get any work done. Anyway," she added, "I ain't sorry for most of it.

And on this dirty night there were appropriately dirty deeds that not even the rain could wash away.

Well, there were plenty of things to do; there always were. There was no end to the wanting.

Not liking Christine would be like not liking small fluffy animals. And Christine was just like a small fluffy animal. A rabbit, perhaps. It was certainly impossible for her to get a whole idea into her head in one go. She had to nibble it into manageable bits.